#dry fruit gift basket

[nibblesgifts]

Nibbles & Nuts Dry Fruit Wicker Tray

The Nibbles & Nuts Wicker Tray is a beautifully crafted, rustic tray designed to elevate your snacking experience. Made from high-quality wicker, it offers a charming and eco-friendly way to serve a variety of snacks, nuts, fruits, or treats. With its natural, woven design, it adds a touch of warmth and style to any setting, perfect for gatherings, picnics, or simply enjoying a cozy snack at home. Durable and versatile, this tray is both functional and decorative, making it a great addition to your kitchen or dining area.

[gtagiftbasket]

Gift Basket Hacks: Elevate Your Dry Fruit Presentation

Dry fruits are a healthy and delicious gift option, perfect for any occasion. But let's face it, a bag of prunes doesn't exactly scream "festive." Fear not, gifting guru! With a few clever hacks, you can transform your dry fruit selection into a show-stopping centerpiece in any gift basket.

Preparation is Key:

Visual Appeal: Sort your dry fruits by color and size. Apricots, golden raisins, and cashews will create a vibrant mix, while darker fruits like prunes and dates can be arranged for contrast.

Freshen Up: If your dried fruits seem a little dull, a quick refresh can make a big difference. Plump raisins by soaking them in a little rum or orange juice for 15 minutes. Apricots and mangoes can benefit from a light dusting of edible glitter for a touch of sparkle.

Container Creativity:

Ditch the Bag: Skip the boring plastic bags that come with store-bought dried fruits. Opt for clear cellophane bags or small decorative boxes. These allow the vibrant colors to shine through and add a touch of elegance.

Layer it Up: Create visual interest by layering different colored fruits in your container. Start with a base of a darker fruit like prunes, followed by a layer of golden raisins, and top it off with vibrant apricots or cranberries.

Think Outside the Box (Literally): Don't limit yourself to traditional baskets. Mason jars, decorative tins, or even beautiful mugs can be transformed into unique and reusable containers.

Sweet Additions:

Chocolate Drizzle: For a touch of indulgence, melt some dark chocolate and drizzle it over your arranged dry fruits. This adds a luxurious element and makes them even more irresistible.

Nutty Nachbarn: Complement your dried fruits with a selection of roasted nuts. Almonds, pistachios, and pecans add a delightful textural contrast and a touch of healthy fat.

Spice it Up: For an extra flavor boost, sprinkle a touch of ground cinnamon, nutmeg, or even a pinch of chili flakes over your display.

Edible Flowers: For a truly show-stopping presentation, consider adding a few edible flowers like pansies or violets. These add a touch of whimsy and sophistication.

Presentation Perfection:

The Finishing Touch: Don't forget the finishing touches! Tie a colorful ribbon around the container or add a decorative pick for a festive touch.

Personalize it: For an extra special touch, consider adding a handwritten card with a heartfelt message or the recipient's initials made from dried fruit slices.

Bonus Tip: If you're feeling extra crafty, line the bottom of your container with shredded colored paper or crinkled tissue for an extra pop of color and visual interest.

With these simple hacks, your dry fruits will go from ordinary to extraordinary. So, the next time you're looking for a thoughtful and healthy gift, consider a beautifully presented dry fruit arrangement. It's sure to leave a lasting impression!

[gtagiftbaskets01]

Fruit Bouquet | GTA Gift Baskets

Discover the perfect gift with GTA Gift Baskets' Fruit Bouquets! Crafted with fresh, juicy fruits, our elegant arrangements are ideal for any occasion—birthdays, anniversaries, or corporate gifts. Surprise your loved ones with a healthy, delicious treat. Order now: Fruity Bouquets.

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/gtagiftbasket/

Twitter: https://x.com/i/flow/login?redirect_after_login=%2FGtaGift

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/torontobulkflowers/

[farzanatrading]

Choosing Ready Made Boxes Online Sharjah is first and foremost a genuine expression of love and care. It shows that you have given thought to choosing a gift that reflects the well-being and happiness of your loved ones. Giving fruit sends messages of encouragement and appreciation, creating a warm connection between you and the recipient.

[keralagifts]

Show your love and appreciation for your dad this Father's Day by sending him special Father's Day Gifts to Anchal. Browse our collection now! Gifts like Father's Day Cake, Father's Day Flowers Bouquet, Father's Day Dry fruits Gift Pack, Father's Day Fruit Basket, Father's Day Gift Hamper etc. You can Send Gifts to Anchal from Anywhere in the World through our Online Store.

[giftdubaionline]

Traditional Special Gifts for Ramadan and EID

Gifts for Ramadan and EID

Traditional Special Gifts for Ramadan and EID The Holy Month of Ramadan is one of the most significant months in the Islamic timetable This is a special time that brings families and communities closer together. It’s a Tradition to bring gifts similar as food and incense to a host’s home as an act of love, Kindness, and Respect. The end of Ramadan is the launch of Eid Al Fitr, which means the ‘jubilee of breaking the fast ’. The stylish occasion of Eid makes sure everyone from associates and musketeers and extended family members exchanges gifts to partake in their gratefulness. Gifting is an important tradition in Arabia, recognizing close bonds and strong connections. According to Islamic Book, Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) would frequently give and admit gifts of incense, beast, apparel, and especially food, which is why it’s come to an integral aspect of indigenous culture.

Take a bite into the Traditional Food & Gifts for this EID and Ramadan month with GDO

Dates and Nuts

Enrich your tastebuds with Premium Dates. Get the Best Arabic Dates in Dubai, and Send Gifts Online to friends and family in Dubai. Take a bit into crunchy pistachios, cashews, and almonds, and Celebrate this Ramadan with the Best Dates and nuts in UAE

Dry Fruit Basket

Dry Fruit Basket is the Traditional way of Celebrating Ramadan month, especially during iftar. Get The Best Enriched dry fruit basket with a gift option to offer your dear ones on Ramadan. The crunchy almonds, cashews, and pistachios will relish their taste buds and express your love and care for them in the best way.

Fruit Baskets

Ramadan cannot be complete without Fruit Baskets, especially during iftar. Playing to get fresh and healthy gifting Optional and also planning it to be Grand. With GDO get the Best Fruit basket in town that fits your budget and share love and good health with your dear ones this Ramadan month.

Cakes

Cupcakes and celebration Cakes make the moment alive Gift Ramadan Cakes to your Homes and witness the Love that blooms in your Family. With GDO you can get the Best Ramadan Cakes and Iftar cakes that brighten your face and your heart at your Home

Get the Best of Traditional Gifts for this Ramadan and Eid. Send Gifts to all your friends and family members with GDO and celebrate this Ramadan season with the Grace of the Lord Almighty. Dive into the divine touch of traditional Ramadan gifts and sweets and treats from GDO family.

[hyukascampfire]

THE TERRIBLE HALF-TRUTHS OF THE UNDEAD ҜING

⠀(🍂 ) 𝓡EVENANT in folklore, a revenant is a spirit or animated corpse that is believed to have been revived from death to haunt the living ... ( 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 )

1︎5.5k revenant!yeonjun · ƒ ! r ft. soobin ⸺ ✴︎ 𝖿𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗌𝗒 ... smut, violence, angst, death, animal death & vivid descriptions of animal death, major character death, unprotected sex, cumming inside, dry humping (because bring it back), biting, dom yeonjun sub reader, mentions of death in childbirth, reincarnation, teasing, breast worship, yj calls reader ‘my love’, def some typos

🪶 ⦂ how fun is this collab? :,) this fic was so fun to write. i personally believe that tsfawc enjoyers will love this one,, but you'll have to read it to confirm that, right? hehe. and of course, go read everybody else's if you love this one! they're all set in the same world, and everybody worked so hard on these fics. send some love their way!

rꫀׁׅܻblogs & asks arꫀׁׅܻ always apprꫀׁׅܻciatꫀׁׅܻd!

𝒪𝑁𝐶𝐸 𝒰𝑃𝑂𝑁 𝒶 𝒯𝐼𝑀𝐸, in a land far, far away, where the treetops touched the soft clouds of the sky and the water sparkled under the glowing sun, where mountains rose high, and long, deep caves ran through them, where the sea met shore in collisions of swirling, foamy punches, where the undead walked among the living, where the winged flew above the finned, there was a land where things beyond reason and rhyme existed perfectly true. Among those strange beings and within the veils of Aethera, there was a girl loved by death. 

He sits on your shoulder, a dark, boding shadow and glared at those around you with promise in his eyes.

That’s how it seems, anyway. That’s how everybody looks at you. They dodge you, whisper about you, evade your gaze as if he might reach his claws for them next if they linger for too long.

Crows with dead eyes arrive at your doorstep like some lover’s cheeky gift, other poor creatures like fat grey mice are left to rot in the wheatfields, and yarrow stocks wilt outside the wall of your room. If Death thinks that you are flattered, he misunderstands you. You are terrified of nothing more than dying. The first time, it was a sly joke. Then it happened again, and you watched their eyes change. And it happened again and again, and your people are a suspicious type. Something can only be a coincidence so many times.

When you began to sneak into a little shack with a village boy, you thought that maybe, somehow, this would all pass. He died too. There’s really no coming back from that, is there? You don’t blame them. You’re not the freak that they all believe you to be—none of them get close enough anymore to know that, though.

The wickerbasket’s handle creaks under your fist. You usually only forage along the shallow line of the forest; you pluck from bramble bushes topped with plump berries that crawl between trees during the summer, and when the crab apple tree’s branches hang heavy with the fruit, you snatch those up too. You’re more useful to your family out here, in the woods that they deem just as cursed as you. Where you won’t be their burden.

Crisp autumn leaves crunch under your boots. You scan between them—more grey and rotted this late in the season than fresh and orangey—for the edible mushrooms and roots that you usually forage at this time of year. The basket’s already pretty heavy with a variety, black morels and sorrel and burdock, as you bend down to pull a truffle from the dirt against a tree.

You drop it down with the rest of your finds. The basket smells like earth, no doubt your hands do too. You dust your palms off on your skirts and go to rise back from your squat.

A deep, billowing horn pierces the forest’s silence. It’s both far away, wiggling between the whispers of rustling leaves, and much too close. It draws out. Long. Bone-chilling. You freeze, scanning between each tree trunk and praying that you won’t find what you fear you might.

You are much deeper into the woods than you usually are. Than you ought to be. And you know what that horn means—you know that it means something far worse than what you’d been afraid of, coming into these woods. Much more primordial than the hide-behinds you were scared you might find this deep, much less avoidable than the faerie rings you stepped around.

Why would The Wild Hunt be here? A shudder runs down your spine, and you curl your fingers into your skirts and lift them as if to prepare to run, but you don’t. Your feet find root in the forest floor and all you can do is stand terribly still in catatonia. Their horn sounds again, and a procession of wicked whoops and howls follow. Wild hoofbeat rumbles under it all—the hunt and their rides. You hope that they’re just passing through, and you won’t so much as see one of those wild riders. There were plenty of folktales that the matrons of your village would bolster to terrify you as children, but you knew even then that their stories of the riders, with their flesh falling away from them and their pale or beady eyes and their gnarled maws and frightening figures as they rode on the backs of equally terrible steeds, were not fabricated. They are not a bogeyman or a wailing banshee; they are death made in the flesh, and they are here. In your forest. 

Your legs won’t work. You curl your clammy fingers tighter around your basket and lean into the tree beside you. How deep had you wandered into the forest? Hopefully not too far; when you gain the courage to run, you hope that they do not send their hounds to snap their foul breath on your heels. Maybe just standing here and blending into the trees is best. The Hunt would love a chase, and you don’t want to become their next.

The next call comes and you throw that all to the wind. Your heart pounds against your ribcage as you let your basket clatter to the leaves and you take off. You fly over roots and shrubbery and between the trees, your blood roaring in your ears faster. You’d oblige if you could.

Above the loudness of your frantic mind, the harrowing whinnies and The Hunt’s ruckus dulls until it’s faraway again, and then it’s gone. Well, you don’t stop to check if they’ve really passed through the forest. You just run.

“There you are, love.”

His voice cuts through your frantic escape and stops you dead in your path. You almost go crashing down over the ground with the force that you dig your heels into it. Though the voice is non-threatening, you don’t turn to face the source.

He speaks again. You already know who it is. He, old as the earth you stand on itself, leads that band of wild riders. Is the king of the undead, collects souls for reaping.

And he’s the one who’s plagued you with his attention. Death.

“Why do you keep your back turned to me?” he says. “I frighten you. That hurts.” His voice lilts with amusement and sharpness. “I wish that you would face me.”

You’re not fond of the way that he speaks to you with a familiarity. But then again, you’re not fond of dying, either. Your legs are boneless beneath you. Turning, you slowly indulge him, though it takes a great amount of willpower to not run again like your jittering jaw and trembling hands ask you to.

The King of Death stands tall and utterly preternatural, leaned against a crooked tree in the woods behind you. His smile cracks across his face in a jagged way that suggests he finds you amusing, but none of that meets his eyes. They’re the color of the greyish, rotted leaves beneath you. The dark shadows beneath his eyes are the only thing belying the weight that his infinite life might have on him. That, and the hollowness that rings from him.

And though he sounded entirely playful, you are shaken by the sorrow that you find in him now that you’ve turned. Even more so, you’re not sure why you feel it echoed somewhere in the hollows of your bones. “I’m sorry,” you say. It trembles terribly. You want to say that you’re sorry you caught his attention, but it seems you’ve always had his attention. It’s more that you are petrified down to your marrow that the time’s come that you face this… strange infatuation. Here he stands: the one who leaves hollowed out husks of creatures at your doorstep. Should you run or thank him? Is Death as prideful a creature as the other kinds that inhabit Aethera? “I don’t mean to…”

He pushes off his tree, fixing his cape that cascades over only one of his shoulders. It’s tattered and falling apart like the rest of his clothing, though you think that the bronze stitching and swirling oakleaf patterns in the black say that they might have been immaculate at some point. Or maybe they weren’t, and they had started that way. He is Death, anyway. “You’re sorry?” he says. “Why are you apologizing to me? You’ve hardly done a thing to warrant it.”

Faltering, you wet your chapped lips. You’re not really sure. Holding back another apology for fear that you’ve offended him and he’ll now strike you down for it, you say, “I thought that, maybe the hunt was…” Wow, you sound stupid. You can see in the sly smile his lips form that it amuses him. That’s almost worse than angering him: intriguing him. What you really should be doing is boring him so that he’ll find you a waste of his time. Then, maybe, he’d give up haunting you.

“After you?” he finishes. Shaking his head, he says, “My hunters only answer to me.”

“Oh,” you say plainly. Part of you wants to ask why that should comfort you, especially when you’re the one that he sends little bits of death to, but rationality keeps those words in the back of your throat. You don’t really want to know. “Why are you passing by here?”

Something akin to old longing passes through those witty eyes, and then he eats up the distance between you with languid steps of his long legs until he’s nothing more than one last step in front of you. The closeness consumes the air in your lungs, leaving nothing for you but short and shallow drags. The forest has gone dead silent aside from the sound of it. His voice is even more magnetic now that he’s so close.

You recoil when he brings a hand up to brush the pad of his thumb over your cheek and then cup your jaw, as if afraid that he might snuff you out here and now. His fingers are softer than you thought they might be, and the lines of his face sharpen into what you think is hurt. Hurt that you flinched?

“We go here and there,” he says, “but it’s been a very long time since we came here.” There’s a certain thickness to his words; a certain tension coiled over them from something that you’re not privy to. And yet, there’s a farawayness, too. You bet he’s full of a lifetime of secrets. Lifetimes of secrets. “But I think I’ve found myself a reason to finally return.”

Breathy and still struggling to flatten out your breathing, you ask him, “Why?”

The Undead King’s smile turns wicked once more, and he doesn’t answer you. It’s awfully eerie.

“Do you have… business here?” you try again. It’s a roundabout way of asking, do you have someone to take away?

“I have business wherever the living go,” he says, letting your face go but not giving you any more room. You narrow your eyes. He’s quite good at non-answers. “Nothing is more certain than that I will greet every living thing eventually. I’ll come to take you, too, when the time comes.”

Your mouth dries up. The entirety of your home, all the people you’ve ever known, fear you for all the death you bring. Not one of them fears it more than you do. You’ve seen it enough to fear its frightening finality.

The drop of your face must’ve told him how much that scared you. “Dying is not such an awful thing, love. Living pales in comparison.” Searching your eyes, he adds, “But I’ve not come to take you.”

That’s easy for him to say: that death isn’t something to fear. His words don’t calm your thundering heart, but you offer him a, “Thank you…” It trails off toward the end when you realize that you don’t have his name. If he has one, anyway.

“Yeonjun.” He tilts his head, strands of sparrow hair brushing over his watching eyes. “Most don’t know it, but you’re not most people, are you?”

Your breathing had just begun evening out. It’s a shame, the way that it kicks back up at the way he looks at you. “What do you mean?” you say, but of course you know. Nobody else is given dead things like you. It’s not like you yourself are very strange; you like pretty dresses and sharing gossip with friends just as much as any other girl your age.

Giving you another one of those knowing smiles that he uses just like words, he steps back. “I’m sorry that I scare you how I do.”

You don’t answer him. What could you say to that? That he doesn’t? That would be a lie, and he would know it.

Yeonjun’s eyes flit over your face, over your cheeks made pink by the autumn cold, lingering on your lips for a few unexplainable beats, and then landing on your eyes where he searches and finds something that sends his throat bobbing with a thick swallow. “I don’t mean to be your monster. It’s only that…” He steps back again. “You remind me a terrible amount of someone I once knew.”

“Who?” Though your shoulders relax a bit with some distance between the two of you, you do your best to not let your guard down. All the stories that you recall being told, all those cautionary tales passed down through word of mouth around a fire, end with some stupid girl thinking that the monster could be changed or tricked. You’re willing to bet that the man in front of you, no matter how human he looks or how enchanting his words are, could be neither.

That doesn’t explain the ache in your chest when he holds your eyes for too long. But you shove that feeling way, way down. It’s nonsensical.

His voice takes on a parting tilt when he says, “It doesn’t matter anymore. Death takes us all.” Yeonjun dips his head at you. His smile wavers. You’d think that crooked smile on his mouth was indelible had you not seen it twitch down at the corners only for a moment. If you’d have blinked, you’d have missed it. “You think I’ll hurt you,” he says, “well, don’t let me stop you. Go ahead, run. I apologize for your basket.”

Death takes us all. You’re not sure what that’s supposed to mean, coming from him, but it sends a cold wind up your spine and goosebumps crawling over your skin.

He watches you go. You don’t look back when you do, but his gaze sits on your back until you’re sure you’re out of his sight. When you return to your home, your mother asks where the basket full of ingredients for supper went.

You imagine what her face might look like if you told her the truth. But that was impossible, so instead you tell her some stupid story about a wolf that startled you so bad that you ran home paying no mind to where your basket was. It’s close enough to the truth.

༺ ꘏ ༻

It doesn’t matter what you do; you can’t get his face out of your head. While you cut butter into flour and then roll out dough, simmer fruits over flame and you slice cheese off blocks, you replay that meeting in the forest. The memory spins and turns over no matter how hard you try to put it away from your thoughts.

It’s not every day that somebody meets the likes of him. You can’t blame yourself; he had such captivating eyes. Dark, playful, and endless. There they are again. You sigh and dust your hands off. Maybe you are just as strange as they all think that you are. Morbid curiosity is like that, though. Taking the most normal of us and making you wonder what you absolutely should not wonder about.

And you absolutely should not wonder about him.

The sun has begun to hang high in the sky, but the breeze that crawls through the window you pulled open before you got to work is a crisp one. Autumn’s really come, now. Outside the window, a huddle of children play around in the leaves that you’d raked up. You’ll have to rake those back up, but you hardly have the heart to tell them to take their playing elsewhere. Their giggles and small voices waft in with the breeze, and a traitorous part of you yearns for a family that you know you’ll never have. No man would risk that fate, not after what happened to the last man who paid you any attention. You grit your teeth at the memory.

Having a face for the thing that’s made your life the way it is is strange. Seeing him in the flesh, with handsome eyes and a taunting mouth, looking something near human, you think you’ve come to resent him for it. How dare he ruin your life? He, more than anybody, should know how fleeting life is. What is in it for him to deface what little time you have? You keep going back to that thought: why did he ever even appear to you in that forest? There is not one story in which you remember Yeonjun showing his face to those he hasn’t come to claim. Death makes his visits swift and purposeful.

Moreover, why on earth would he even look your way? You wish there was a plain way to ask him why, or even to plead with him to stop. Whatever it is he’d ask of you, you think you might give him. To get back to living, you would.

A deep, familiar voice from behind you gives you pause. “Want some help with that?” Soobin says. He stands  in the doorway, his head nearly brushing the top of the frame. It’s made too small for him. Most things in your tiny village were made too small for Soobin. There had been a time where you’d been taller than him, that had hardly lasted long enough.

“As if,” you dismiss and gesture at his dirty hands. He’d no doubt been out working his family’s field, his tunic sleeves rolled up to his elbows.  “Cow shit isn’t an ingredient.”

Anybody else might’ve scoffed or taken offense, but he just laughs and invites himself in anyway. It never fazes Soobin. He doesn’t let you push him away.

It’d be better if he did. How long before he ends up dead, too? Alive one moment, and then a husk without a soul next. You don’t think you could handle seeing cold, dead eyes where the annoying, warm shine should be. Of course it would be better if he stayed away, if he had half the mind to. Even most of the children have heard enough from their mothers to stay a healthy distance. He’s not too much better than a child, though.

“Isn’t it?” he says. His cheek is smudged with whatever sort of dirt he’s got on his hands and under his nails. “I’m done with work for the day. Want to go out to the field?”

You two have always ran off and avoided your life in between willowy, flaxen wheat stocks. They were just tall enough at this time of year to hide you away. But, for some reason, your stomach does a quick flip at the thought of being outside. It’s silly; couldn’t he find you here, too? “I’m busy,” you say. You’d already kneaded this roll of dough plenty, but you dig your fingers into it and begin again.

“Busy?” he scoffs, “Since when are you too busy to get away from work?”

Gritting your teeth, you let the sounds of your kneading answer. Now, more than ever, he should keep his distance. You know one thing that you’re sure nobody else does: Death’s come to visit. 

His brows shoot up in your peripherals. “I don’t get answers today?”

“I’m sorry,” you say, giving up working the over-kneaded dough only because your arms ache. “Why don’t you go talk off the ear of some other poor village girl? I’ve heard as much as I can handle today. And then when that one’s tired, you can bother the next, I’m sure.”  You soften the words with a quick smile his way. No matter how many times you say something sour in hopes that it’ll send him away, as soon as you glance up at his face, you reel it in.

His company is all you’ve ever had. The least you can do for him is make sure he doesn’t end up like carrion, even if he chooses to take that risk himself. You don’t know why he does.

Voice playful, he says, “I’m glad to hear that you believe I’ve got ladies falling at my feet, but I’d rather not annoy a pretty girl, so you’re my only option.” He pokes at the sleeve of your simple cotton dress. “Should I drag you out of here? Don’t your arms hurt doing all that?”

“Oh, you are a refined man, aren’t you?” you say, shuffling out of his reach. Damn him, he makes it difficult. “Well, I am a pretty girl, so you should take yourself elsewhere.”

Soobin smiles easy. “I’m bored out of my mind. You’re just going to let me suffer?”

“That’s not my issue.”

“I’d argue that it is,” he says. “Come on. Why are you giving me a cold shoulder?” Leaning, he tries to get a look at your face. “Did I upset you? I wasn’t aware that you cared much about what I thought.” When you spare him a sharp glance, he says, “I think you are very, very beautiful. Would you stop ignoring me, now?”

You wish you could fall into the easy banter that comes with being around Soobin, but you can’t. You can’t let him be around you. “Soobin, stop it,” you say, draining your voice. You don’t look at him while you say it.

Going quiet, he seems to notice that today’s different. His gaze is heavy as he stares at you for a few long moments. Crossing his arms over his chest, he asks, “What happened?”

You swallow. “Nothing. I’m just doing something.”

“Oh, alright,” he says, tone inflicting in a way that says he doesn’t believe you one bit. He pushes off the counter. “I’ve put up with you pushing me away for years. You think I don’t know what you’re doing?”

“Soobin,” you warn. If you look at him, you fear you’ll be forced to watch the only one who never cared much what a risk it was being around you leaving. So you don’t.

Your friend raises his hands in the air defensively. “Okay, then.” He makes for the doorway with languid, lingering steps. As if he doesn’t want to leave. “Tomorrow..”

That’s both a threat and a promise, knowing him. Sighing and watching the rowan tree out your window sway, you bid him a curt goodbye.

If only that jerk took offense to things. It would make things an awful lot easier for you.

༺ ꘏ ༻

Being out in the wheat fields brings you peace when you’re alone, but you find it to be terribly lonely. The earthy, sweet scent of it wraps around you, and the stalks whisper against each other in a soothing way.

When you look beside you, the patch of wheat imprinted with the shape of your bodies is empty on his side. You are quite weak; it makes you want to go knocking at his door for his company. But that would be the selfish thing to do, so you card your fingers between the golden straw instead.

A chill trickles down your spine. You feel his presence before you even see him; it’s a feeling that you used to get fleetingly, as if something far away was tugging at you. But then he became real, a living thing in front of you that can touch, and that is much different.

“Why is it that I always find you out in the wilderness?” Yeonjun says. His voice comes from behind you.

Has he been watching you? You stand and dust your bottom off, heart kicking to life. “It’s nice out here,” you say. In truth, you haven’t come outside since that day. You’ve dodged Soobin and made a million excuses as to why you won’t go anywhere past the fences of your home. “I like to… watch people go about their days. It’s interesting.” It’s true—you always watch from afar how the village folk interact. How groups of girls your age link arms and whisper to each other, how neighbors come together to fix up a shoddy fence. You watch them be a community that you are not a part of. Watching it tastes bitter sometimes, but mostly you take pleasure in imagining yourself there with them. You’re not sure why you try making small talk with him, but what else? Should you go running again? If you were to listen to your pattering heart, maybe that’s what you’d do. He’s hardly shown you any bad will, though, and he’s the one that’s come to you. Maybe it’s silly to wait until something bad happens to be cautious.

A thousand pounds in stones sit at the center of your chest, though, and his voice makes them feel lighter. Why on earth that is, you’re not sure. It’s a nice relief regardless.

He smiles. It's different from the ones he showed you before. It’s knowing; more sweet than cracking over his face like the smile you would expect from the likes of him. What use might he have in being sweet? “Could I join you?”

Blinking dumbly at him for a second, you nod. “Oh, uh… Yeah.” Settling back down into your spot, you spare him a few curious sideways glances.

The breeze billows over the gold stems, moving them like gentle waves over the ocean and blowing your hair in it too. The flattened bits rustle under his weight. He doesn’t even turn his face toward the village; instantly, his gravitational eyes are on you.

“Do you come here often?”

“I do,” you answer. Mostly when you and Soobin have too much to do and not enough will to do it. “It’s nice. The village doesn’t like me much, so it’s easier out here.” You don’t mention that mostly you don’t come here alone.

Yeonjun’s face becomes far away. It looks strikingly like somebody forced into an old, unpleasant memory. “Don’t like you?” he asks, “What reason would they have for that?”

“They fear me. Things go wrong around me, that’s all.” You pluck at the hay absentmindedly. “Things die. They’re smart to stay away.”

The hay whispers much louder for the long moment he remains quiet, digesting what you’ve said. Maybe deciding what to say, considering that it’s his fault.

“Die?” he asks, voice inflected with surprise.

Turning to him, your brow creases. Shouldn’t he know? He’s the one that’s done it to you. “Everything that gets too close ends up dead. Everything,” you say, resting your temple on your knee. “So, I guess, I just keep it all at arm’s length.” You look back at your tiny village, a collection of familiar, un-familiar thatch-roof homes. 

Continuing to blink at you, his eyes narrowed in a strange grimace, Yeonjun says, “Death follows me, too.”

What? A laugh of disbelief bubbles up in your chest. Of course, death follows him. You cover your mouth with a hand to obscure your laugh, but you just giggle at him harder.

A laugh twitches at the corners of his mouth, too. “I mean it,” he says. The lines of his face become distant again, eyes both trained on your face and melancholic as if the sight reminds him of something.

It ignites a question in your mind about something he said in the forest. “You said that I reminded you of somebody,” you say, testing the waters. “Who?”

A muscle feathers in his jaw. He looks away, as if he can’t look at you while he says it. “I loved a girl from this village once. When I was human, no less than you.”

You falter, mouth falling open to ask all the questions that flurry through your thoughts. You settle on one. “You were human?”

“I was,” he says ruefully. “And I had everything. I had the love of my life. I think that even the most bitter of creatures on this island had envy for our love. She would braid dandelions into my hair, and then I’d braid them into hers.” He swallows thickly and pauses, as if the wound was still festering and fresh. “And then she died. She died starting our family. She died because of me, in my arms.”

You don’t know what to say, so you just look into his shining eyes as if that’ll help. You’re not very useful with people, much less comforting them.

“I couldn’t accept that. I wouldn’t. So I went where I shouldn’t have gone, and angered something much bigger than myself. They thought it would be a fitting punishment for me to live an eternity, the King of Death who could not bring back his dead lover.” The harrowed look that he gives you, only briefly, has your chest heavy all over again. “They have a sense of humor, the forces.”

You imagine what it would’ve been like for him to lose his lover in that way. How far he’d gone to try and have her back, but death does not give back. Where had he gone to have been turned into this? An immortal thing, forced to roam the world and scoop up the souls of the living for an eternity? To be bound in ancient bones and made to remember forever how you had lost your lover?

The grandness of what you want to say is too big, but all those words feel pitying and patronizing in a way that you don’t think will actually bring him any comfort. Rather, you doubt anything you say will be able to patch up a wound older than you could imagine. Simply, you offer him a raw, “I’m so sorry.”

Yeonjun lets a crooked smile replace the trembling at his lips. “As long as I live, so too will she,” he says, placing his palm over his heart. “Death doesn’t so much happen when we leave behind our bodies, but when we’ve left the minds of the living.” Narrowing his eyes at you, he brushes hair behind your ear with his knuckles. “I know she lives on, somewhere out there. Somewhere. I’ll find her.”

That intrigues you. “Is there some way that you could bring her back?”

The grim light in his eyes tells you his answer. “My curse is to take life,” he says, “not to give it. But the one who made me this, he is cruel in a twisted way. If I were to find her, as a human or an animal or a blade of grass in the forest, only then could I rest.”

It is cruel. “You’ve been searching, then,” you conclude. “When you find her, you’ll both be able to rest.” But how could he find her, if as he says, she could be any living thing? Where would he even begin?

Slowly, he shakes his head, throat bobbing. “Death needs a farrier.”

She would become what he is. You swallow thickly. Was it not him who caused the deaths that follow you? Or, at least, it was not on purpose?

Opening your mouth, you go to tell him that you’ll help him look. You’re sure you’ll be of no help. He’s spent an immortal lifetime searching, and he still hasn’t found his dead lover. Nobody would know better than him where to look.

The ground shakes beneath your palms with impact, and something cuts through the wheat. The noise of its bleating becomes nearer until the both of you scramble up to find out what’s in such distress.

A deer stumbles around wildly. It looks lame, but you don’t see anything wrong with its legs. Your throat tightens at the awful sound, piercing and sad. Frozen, you watch it try to stay upright before it finally collapses down, legs still kicking as though it still wants to run but its body has begun weakening on it. “Oh my god,” you say, stumbling back. The sounds; its sounds are awful, echoing in your bones and constricting your thoughts until they’re a pinched panic.

There’s an arrow lodged into its ribcage, deep and at a terrible angle. You already know that it’s pierced some vital organs, if not its heart. It continues to writhe on the ground, not ready to give up. You’re not sure if you should approach it—you don’t want to scare it, and you can tell by the look in its wet eyes that it already wants to be away from you.

Or, maybe it had come to you. How else had it found the two of you in the middle of this field?

Yeonjun’s already on it. He puts his knees into the dirt and dried wheat to kneel by it, running his hand over the beast's pelt in long strokes. The small buck flinches at first but relaxes once he learns that his touches are gentle, not the gnashing of hungry teeth ready to make him a meal.

Blood runs like lead through your veins. You say, “Can we help it?”

He shakes his head. “He’ll die.”

Whip-lashed, you swallow thickly. He says it so unphased, and you’re sure he is. You can hardly make yourself mirror that serenity that he exudes as he runs his hand over its flank, but you get on the ground beside him anyway.

The buck’s breaths slow to desperate drags for breath. For a few long minutes, the two of you sit in silence and stay with him until he no longer fights, until his breaths are ragged. You feel his side, still warm and alive, but you see the life going from his eyes. You sit here, talking to each other about nothing just so it hears gentle voices as it goes, for a while.

Eventually, he’s gone. Quiet and at peace, no longer hurting. This time, when you look over to Yeonjun who still smooths over the deer’s skin even as he goes, guiding him delicately into whatever greets us when we go, you see death as a gentle thing.

༺ ꘏ ༻

Though you never seek him out, Yeonjun always finds you. In hidden places, away from prying eyes, he appears behind you and makes himself known. Well, you have a feeling that he watches you for a while before saying anything. It’s hard not to feel the strange tingling of his gaze over your form. It’s akin to the sixth sense that’s supposed to keep you safe out in the dark hearts of forests, an innate feeling that tells you some beast with a rotten, pale maw watches you between the trees.

Yeonjun doesn’t feel rotten, though, preternatural and eerie as he is. As you shirk your duties and talk with him for hours, you stare into ancient eyes and watch his crooked mouth move around his words and you feel an odd comfort. As if he’s the only one who’s ever understood you, or maybe that your strangeness pales beside him and for once you’re nothing but who you are. So many nights, the sun fell on your talking until the night insects buzzed from the grasses and your eyes were heavy.

Sometimes, as you dozed off with your back to a hay bale or a hardwood wall of the abandoned home beside yours with its sagging thatched roof, you caught such festering longing in his his eyes that you’d let your lashes fall and pretend to sleep so that you could imagine what it was that he longed for. No doubt his lost lover. When you imagine him, bound in bones and coming back to haunt the living for an eternity as he mourns her infinitely, searching for her in impossible places, your chest aches with a gnawing intensity.

It’s a terrible, cursed existence. Even the nothingness of death becomes a paradise beside it.

“Is it scary?” you ask into the air, sat criss-crossed on the thick duvet of the bed. He sits across from you, looking perfectly lazy. Moonlight pools in like sterling mist through the shutters.

“What?” He watches you, sitting in your plain dress, as though you’re the only thing in the world.

You’ve begun to wonder. Wonder about those looks he gives you.

Shifting, you fix the shoulder of your soft chemise where it’s slipped down when you catch his eyes lingering on it. His throat bobs. “Dying,” you elaborate. “Is it really nothing? After we go, all of it was for nothing?”

A slow smile tugs his full lips, made a bit red in the middle where he likes to worry it. It’s such a human habit to see on something so far from human. “Hardly,” he says. “It’s like going home, right where your soul is supposed to be. Who do you think rides with me?”

Furrowing your brows, you tilt your head toward one shoulder and let your hair pool there. “The riders are dead?” You had thought they were undead in some way like Yeonjun, other sorts of revenants come back to life with their own purposes. Then, are their creepy horses dead, too? A chill goes down your arms. Sometimes, sitting here with him when his face is made soft by the orange glow of the fire he puts on, you forget what he is.

“They are.” He nods, leaned back onto his elbows, his eyes alight with a hunger that makes your insides feel funny. “It doesn’t stop once we’ve died. You don’t need to be scared, my love. So many things end, but then so many things begin. The earth no longer holds you down, the weight of being is gone. You don’t know anything like it; you don’t know leaving behind the pleasures of earth to know the ones that only the afterlife can show you.”

His eyes laced with something entirely else, he adds, “And it’s not the end. Not for everything. For some it’s only the beginning, and for others, those who have not yet fulfilled their purpose, they come back to the flesh. They return.”

You can’t tell if he means himself, or something else. The weight in his eyes, dark, endlessly swirling pools, makes you wonder again why it is that he’s lingering here: the place that he had not visited once since the death of his lover, for the fact that it still hurts too much. Why his shadow of death, his fault or not, was tangled in your soul enough to brush its fingers over the things around you.

“It’s scary,” you say, breathy. The thought of eternity.

Soft hairs brush over his eyes as he tilts his head at you. “Do I scare you?”

“No.”

“No?” he echos, pushing himself up so that he leans back onto his palms. “Isn’t that strange? Pretty little thing says she’s not afraid of death, but her heart races when I’m near. Her sweet heart jumps at just the brush of my leg. Are you sure you’re telling me the truth, love?”

Your blood roars in your veins, inflaming your cheeks and making your head dizzy. Nobody’s ever looked at you like that before. Hair prickles on your skin. “Yes,” you breathe.

Feral delight sparks in his eyes, black as pitch. His smile turns up all feline at the crooked corners. “Crawl to me, then.”

Like how fire licks up oxygen in any room it is in, his words steal the breath right from your lungs. What does he think you are? You blink at him wide-eyed and dumb for a moment.

How can he say that as though it were nothing? Moreover, how does the ravenous flare in his eyes, his head tilted back as he watches you down his nose expectantly, do that to your belly?

Your mind glazes over with something thick and heady, and you damn the nerves in your belly and begin to crawl from your end of the bed to his. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, making sure you feel every inch of the taunt in his eyes as he trains them on you. When you’ve gotten to him through the thickness in the air, you settle into his lap and bracket his waist with your thighs.

Yeonjun takes the soft fat of your hips in his fingers. “Fuck,” he says. It sounds like he’s barely holding the gates on something endlessly consuming. Something that might break loose on the two of you, and leave you changed forever with its hungry, gnashing teeth. His head hits your collarbone. “Tell me to stop. Please, tell me to go. Because I don’t know how.”

“Don’t,” you say. “Don’t stop. I want it, Yeonjun. I want this.”

He straightens, pupils blown and eyes as tense as his set jaw. “No, you don’t understand what you’re asking for. All I’ve ever done is ruin. All I’ll ever do is ruin. I won’t ruin you; not again.”

That rings bells somewhere outside the heavy fog that’s infiltrated your mind, but they don’t sound too alarming when he looks as though he wants to drag his teeth over your heart to taste its beating. It doesn’t touch the ground, when you want him to, so badly. So badly that you taste it on your tongue and it tinges your words as you tell him, “I do know what I’m asking for. I want you. Yeonjun. Don’t you want me too?” Voice and confidence wavering, you pull back. Maybe you’ve read this all wrong. A tickling shame crawls over your skull. “Do you not want me?”

“You think I don’t want you?” he says, straightening up and meeting your gaze. His breath is hot on your mouth. “I want you so fucking bad. You are in the marrow of my bones. Fuck, I have done nothing but want you, but I am foul. I will only hurt you.”

He takes your hand and places it over his chest, where a heart should be. Beneath your palm, you do not feel the thumping of an alive thing. Yeonjun has no heart. You knit your brows and examine the strain of his features. Does he think that you’ll be disgusted? Maybe the girl you were in that forest might’ve been, but being near Yeonjun has changed you in ways you couldn’t start to put your finger on. “I’m asking you to,” you say. “Show me what you want to do to me. What you’ve wanted to do to me.”

Searing silence burns between you as he drinks that in, and then he shoves you onto your back. Supporting himself with an arm beside your head, he curls his fingers into your hip and nudges your thighs wider. He doesn’t lift the hem of your chemise like you expect him to. No—Yeonjun begins to grind himself into your cunt through all the layers of your clothes. Though your dress is bunched up and his pants lay between any real contact, Yeonjun’s hard and that friction tastes fleetingly sweet.

“I want you to beg me for it,” he says, grinning down at you with cruel intention. “Beg me, and make it so pretty.”

You let little sounds linger in that back of your throat and become hungrier each time he grinds against you. It’s so much, mind swimming and sparks spraying up your spine, and yet each time it is not near enough. Damn that foxish smile on his face; you beg for him anyway. “Yeonjun,” you breathe, curling your fingers around the wrist of that hand with which he pins your hip. “P…lease, will you help me? It feels so good; I want more, please.”

He raises his eyebrows at you and an eager grind comes right over your throbbing clit. 

You know he wants more than that, but mortification already is making your voice unsteady and your cheeks burn. “Yeonjun,” you huff, hips wiggling.

The king of the undead delights fully in your shame and rewards you with more of those pointed, dry grinds. Your legs tremble; he’s giving you so little, and yet your need takes it and magnifies it into something grand.

Though he pretends he’s on some high ground, you hear his shuddering breaths each time his fucks his hips against you. He feels that roiling, liquid need in his belly just as vehemently as you do. The room fills with your breathy pants and grinding bodies. You catch your lip in your teeth and begin to meet him half-way. Your moans are low and sweet, and each one sends his jaw tighter. 

You twist and grind against each other like fumbling teens until you’re coiled up so tight that he has to pull himself away. Your throbbing cunt protests, but you know he doesn’t want you cumming like this.

“You want me to show you what I’ve wanted to do to you?” he says, working at his pants. His eyes are so drunk on you, and his cheeks betray his state. “Open your legs, my love. Let me show you a little death.”

Throat gone dry, you slowly let your thighs fall open. The dull throbbing between your thighs roars to life. He slides your skirt up your leg, stopping when he frees your knee to pepper a few hot kisses into it. Once he’s got it bunched up at your ribcage, he runs his tongue over his dry lips to wet them. “Fuck. Such a pretty pussy. I want to fucking eat you up.”

“Yeonjun,” you whine. His name is all you can muster out, anticipation sharpened to a knife point.

Flashing his teeth, he purrs, “You like that, you filthy thing. I bet you’d like for me to fuck you till your brain’s gone and all that’s left is my name. Isn’t that right? Is that what you want?”

Your thoughts stall and you nod, making your mouth into a filthy pout. God, how you want that. Maybe he’s right about you being filthy. Coming from him, it sounds like a delicious thing to be.

The pretty, leaking tip of his cock brushes your clit as he slides it up and down your slit to collect the mess there. Your thighs jump to close before your mind gets the better of it. He does this a few times—up and down, letting you feel and get used to the size and length of him all the way till his cockhead kisses your clit and you squeak.

“Are you comfortable, love?” he asks, shifting your hips with strong hands. “Do you need anything from me?”

It’s so at odds with his other, nastier words. Your head spins, the moonlight blurring. “I’m okay,” you tell him. “I… just want you. Want you to put it in, want to feel you.”

His cock catches on your hole, and he begins to push forward with promising pressure. But then he pulls back, smiling downturned. You whine; why can’t he save his capriciousness for later? You’d almost had it…

“I could give it to you, or I could not…” He hums. “Wouldn’t that be so cruel of me? To leave you wanting?”

You flutter around nothing. Every inch of your body buzzes. Alive. You are more alive now, at the promise of Death’s touch, than ever before. The irony might be something to wonder about if you weren’t dribbling down onto the bed sheets with crude need. “Stop it,” you say. Your voice is whiny. You’re glad you can hardly hear yourself past the pounding in your bloodstream.

That delights the King of Death. He wrinkles his nose at you, burning you alive with his eyes as he presses his palm to your belly and guides himself into you with his free hand. You wrap around each inch of him slowly. The air between you bows under the weight of your gazes; he holds your eyes the whole way, inch by inch until he’s seated fully into you with his groin flush to your body. He stretches you to fit, and yet it’s just right. You could ask for no more or no less; you might even think your body was made for him, were you not too busy circling your hips to feel him.

“Good?” he says, squeezing your hip. “Do you need a moment?”

Pursing your lips, you test out the shape of him with another wiggle. “Maybe… Maybe a second.” Truth be told, you need a moment to grapple with the sparks sprinkling over your mind more than you need a moment to adjust to his stretch. You let out a shuddering breath.

He traces circles into your belly, just beneath your navel. The pad of his thumb goes round and round, warm on your flesh. “As long as you need,” he says, but it’s more like a triumphant, playful coo. There’s that lopsided smirk. One day, you’d like to kiss it off him. Taking that hypnotizing finger, Yeonjun trails it up your stomach, over your ribcage. He hooks it beneath your dress and drags it higher, revealing the soft swells of your breasts to the air. You shudder, body so, so hot that your nipples peak and tighten against the cool air.

“Such pretty tits,” he says, brushing his knuckle up the underside of one. “Everything about you. Such a pretty, pretty body. God, I don’t know if I want to worship it or ruin it.” His breaths fan over your skin as he bends down and pops an eager nipple into his mouth, lavishing it before releasing it with a lewd pop and letting his mouth fall all over your breast. Lick here, nip there, until you’re squirming adequately and squeezing him like a virgin. Then he blows cool air over it and watches with eyes like a cat toying with its prey as you shudder harder, your chest jumping. “Fucking look at you,” he sneers.

“Junnie,” you say, lost for breath. You think you’ve walked yourself into the lion’s den.

His breathy laughs fall over your breast. Taking his teeth, he drags them over your skin, right over where your heart thunders a rhythm fully for him, and then he bites. Nothing more than a shallow mark, the shape of his teeth in your soft tit. He lingers there, admiring the sight before he straightens himself up again.

“Fine.” He pulls out of you slowly, but you know what comes after that, so you savor every second of it. “I suppose you’ve wanted after it long enough. Let me hear your sweet voice again, my love.”

Yeonjun fucks you just right. His cock nudges right up on your sweet spot as if he’s done this before. Like he knows where to find it. You gasp and whine—you’re just happy he’s finally giving you something. 

“Oh, fuck,” you mewl. His shoulders wear the red crescent marks of your nails. “That’s—so good right there.”

Ever egotistical and cocky, he croons, “Yeah?” Rolling himself back, he makes it his mission to hit it ruthlessly.

A sharp, pitchy sound comes tumbling past your lips. You bring your hand up over your mouth, letting your eyelids dust your burning cheeks so that you can brave the flipping in your spine and deep in your belly. It’s nearly insufferable—the way pleasure licks up your spine, how it spreads out into your veins and takes control of you.

“No,” Yeonjun growls. “Don’t you dare close your eyes. Let me see that look in your eyes when you cum.”

Your eyes are heavier than they’ve ever been, but you open them. The sight that greets you is worth the effort. Yeonjun’s lip twitches and then he throws his head back, the column of his neck on display as his Adam's apple jumps around a thick swallow.

If that sight wasn’t enough to send you teetering down into whatever depths of lust and ecstasy that he crawled out from, then the angle he hits as he pushes one of your thighs to your chest is. The world frays, deep tremors starting at one small point in your cunt and then exploding up through your stomach and down the back of your thighs. Your chest arches off the bed and you mewl helplessly, fighting and embracing your orgasm in an intoxicating death.

“Oh, fuck,” Yeonjun growls, strained with something whinier as he watches you shake beneath him. “Fuck. I’m gonna—fuck, I’m gonna cum…” His voice chokes as his hips become stuttered more than pointed, the slick sounds of your own release tangling up with his grunts and pants until he shudders and stills, cumming into your puffy, fluttering cunt.

You both catch your breaths as if there’s no air in the room left for a while. His hair’s damp on his forehead, as is yours on your neck, and his eyes droop lazily. More lazy and content than you’ve ever seen him.

Collecting you to his chest, where only your heart thumps away frantically, he presses his mouth to your ear and says, “Do you think death is so scary now?”

With your limbs nothing more than boneless and liquid pleasure floating slowly through your thoughts, you smile.

A little death can be more visceral than living, you think.

༺ ꘏ ༻

The tree stump beneath you makes your tailbone ache. You sit criss-crossed, watching Soobin work away at the soil and tend to that section of the fence that’s begun to rot and sag. Your mouth moves endlessly, filling the space that would otherwise just be made up of his grunts of hard work.

“You know, you ought to help me if you’re just going to sit and watch,” he says, straightening to swipe at his forehead, sweaty despite the cold in the air.

“Totally improper,” you say, smiling at him cheekily. “Are you saying that you can’t handle yourself, strong man?”

He glares at you with the venom only somebody made to put up with hours of chatter could muster. “What’s got you so talkative?” he says.

You know he means why you’re suddenly not glaring him away. You can’t tell him that you’ve spoken with Death himself, so instead you say, “Nothing.” Letting your legs dangle down, you smile at him.

Yeonjun hadn’t done any of it. It’s a comfort, to some degrees, to know that. It’s not your fault that they died. Being around them, being around Soobin, won’t make them turn up dead. The rest of them still don’t know that—and they wouldn’t believe it, anyway—but the black shadow hanging over your shoulders dissipates.

For the first time in so, so long, you do not feel marked by death.

“Sure.” His smile tilts. “A week ago, you wouldn’t even look at me.”

Rolling your eyes, you decide to give him a hard time. “Not true. You just have a way of getting on my nerves.”

“I take pride in that.”

“Take pride in what? Being insufferable?”

Crinkling his nose, he says, “Knowing how to bother you best.”

“Get back to work, stupid.” Your heart soars. It’s good to have friends. To let yourself have friends is an ever better thing. Is this how it is? To be with others and not feel like their burden, or like they’re crossing their fingers behind their back to ward off whatever bad things you might bring onto them? He’s made it his mission to hover around you no matter what, but this feels different.

Maybe, for so long, part of it has been your own gloom that’s obscured it all. Maybe if you didn’t bare your teeth to anybody who got too close, it could’ve been like this always. You hate to think that your own isolation could be some part your own fault. But how were you not to show your teeth when someone tried to reach their hand out to you?

It doesn’t matter now. You shove that all down and let yourself feel the slight warmth of the sun’s glow on your skin where it peeks through the clouds. It’s a nice day, you shouldn’t ruin it with those thoughts.

The sun’s begun making its descent when Soobin’s done. He takes a long drink of water, hissing with relief and crumpling down to the ground with his back to your stump.

“Are you making any way with that girl you were talking to me about?” you prompt.

Giving you a long look over his shoulder, he says, “Don’t.”

“What?” You laugh a little, raising your brows down at him. “I’m not doing anything.”

“You know what you’re doing,” he says, voice flat as he picks stickers out of his fingers.

Soobin’s had a thousand different crushes. There was that daughter of the shepherd, and then the wealthy merchant’s daughter and her long pretty hair, and then the neighbor… Well, you could go on. None of them ever really came to fruition for the poor guy. He thinks that it’s because he’s a poor farmer’s son, but you always tell him that it’s because he’s got an insistent mouth, and that he should be more grateful that you deal with him. Your lips turn up at the corners a little thinking about it—he’ll find the one eventually, but you like the indignant look on his face when you say it.

“I mean it!” you say, nudging him with your leg. “Tell me. I want to know.”

“You won’t even tell me what’s happening with you. Until one of us quits keeping secrets,” he says, placing accusation heavy over the words, “I’ll keep my dealings to myself. What’s it to you, anyway?”

Feeling the weight of his head as he lets it loll lazily against your thigh, you decide that it couldn’t hurt to tell him. The itch to tell somebody crawls under your skin. Especially to tell him. “You know the other day? When I was… being awful?”

His body shakes with a vindicated laugh. “If you’re nothing else, at least you’re self-aware.”

You skirt around that with your own, more awkward, laugh. It’s nice that he thinks so, but you don’t feel it. “Stop,” you huff and nudge him again. “I was foraging out where I usually go. But I guess I wandered out farther than I thought I did. You remember when they used to tell us stories, right? Like the bogeyman. That he’d come snatch us up if we didn’t listen.” Your mom especially had loved that one, back when she cared what became of you. Would she care again, if you told her that everything was fine? “Well, I don’t know if you remember the one about The Wild Hunt, but… Anyway, I was picking some stuff, and…”

Sitting up from his exhausted slouch, Soobin looks like he’s suddenly come back to life. “What?” he interrupts. His voice is strangely serious.

“What?” you say, brow creasing. “They travel here and there… but they were here. In the woods. Like, I heard them.”

Tersely, he asks, “What were you doing that deep in the woods?”

“I mean, I just kept on finding nice stuff until I just… was deeper.” You survey him. You hadn’t thought that he’d react like this. “So I ran, and then there was this guy,” you say, watching realization fall over his face. He knew those stories as much as you do—knew where you were going with this. He is as starkly superstitious as the rest of your people, you forgot. Pushing past the grimace on his face, you say, “And I knew that he was the king. The one from the stories. It was so weird; it’s like you can feel it. And I spoke to him, and then…”

Stood up now, he cuts you off once more. “Are you kidding?”

“Why are you being like that?” you say, messing with your skirts to quell the defensive bite in your tone. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You didn’t do anything? Are you trying to get killed?” He throws up his hard-working hands. “We have rules for a reason. Don’t go out into the forest, don’t make deals with faeries, don’t follow a banshee scream. And then you go and talk to the king of death? How am I not supposed to be upset about that? You know that…” Soobin blinks a few times as if second-guessing what he’s about to say, but he says it anyway. “You know that he’s the reason that they treat you how they do. You know that he’s the one who ruined your life. Why would you ever mess with that?”

You push yourself up from the ground, eyes burning. That stings like a cut. “He didn’t do it. None of it is his fault,” you say, furrowing your brows. “What are you trying to say, Soobin? Just say what you want to say. Come on.”

“He didn’t do anything?” He scoffs, letting a heavy silence hang suspended in the air for a moment before saying, “Is that what he told you? And you just believed it? Listen to yourself, does that make any sense? He’s played with your life like it’s some fucking toy, and now he’s come to rub it in your face. Think about it: do animals just fly into anybody else’s windows and die? Do the trees that they pick from just end up dead? It’s his fault that they all treat you the way you do.”

Mouth opening and closing, you don’t know what to say. 

He sees the hurt in your burning eyes and tries to reel it back in. “What I’m trying to say is—”

“I know what you’re saying,” you say, grabbing up the lunch you’ve been nibbling on. “I know exactly what you’re saying. I just never thought you’d say it out loud.”

“Say what?” Soobin says, his voice raising behind you as you storm off.

That you think it’s my fault, you want to say. That they all die because I am a plague, and you are a charity worker for being my friend. Instead, you just leave and try to choke down the tightness in your throat.

༺ ꘏ ༻

You curl your arms around yourself, the night biting cold. Yeonjun had dragged you from bed, and who knows what hour of the night it is? If the heaviness beneath your eyes is to judge it by, it’s far too deep in the dead of night to be outside with your boots half-laced and nothing but your sleep chemise on.

You might’ve just stayed wrapped up in your blankets if you weren’t so lonely as you’ve been. Soobin’s been scarce. The most you see of him is in the fields from morning to afternoons. You hope that he’ll stop by your doorstep and knock so that you can groan about it but swing the door open anyway each time, but he doesn’t. He thinks that you won’t want to see him, and so he allows you your space.

That couldn’t be further from the truth. It’s hard to be the one to come back after a conversation like that, though. You watch him from the windows and hope he understands at some point instead. It’s an awful lot easier.

Other than preparing meals and window watching, you’ve been up to nothing much at all. You hadn’t realized how much you had, but you feel him in his absence. 

“It’s cold…” you say. The fog of breath that punctuates it makes your point. Whatever he’s brought you out here for, you have no doubt it’ll be something strange. The grin on his face tells you as much.

Leading the way, he heads for the Darkwood. “Only you would come rushing out without a cloak for your shoulders.”

“Well, only you would drag me from my nice, warm bed at this time of night. For what?”

“Can’t anything be a surprise with you?” he says, shooting you a cheeky glance over his shoulder. “Surprises are fun.”

“Surprises!” you say, working your legs to catch him. “Not surprises that involve you bringing me out into the woods. You know, it’s awfully suspicious. Somebody who sees this might think that I am the type to… sneak out with men.”

“Aren’t you now?”

Your lips tug down. “You know what I mean.”

He laughs in his airy way, a twig snapping under his foot. You’re well in the woods, now. Probably somewhere near where you’d first met him.

Lifting a brow, you look at him expectantly. Maybe a will-o’-the-wisp will come floating through with its light bouncing off the trees. That would be a nice surprise, you admit.

Yeonjun circles you. His presence behind you tingles in the way it always does, but true chills erupt when his breath puffs against your ear. “Close your eyes. I have something I want to show you.”

Your mind wanders back to what Soobin had gotten so twisted up about. It might be naive and reckless and against everything you ever learned, but you let your eyes fall shut to blackness. If he was going to hurt you, you imagine he’d have had that opportunity a mind-numbing amount of times before.

“Are they shut?” he asks, waiting for your nod. His voice comes from in front of you now. “I want you to keep them shut. You can’t open your eyes, or it will all go away. Okay?”

“Okay,” you breathe, mind full of a bounty of questions. You don’t even know where to begin to assume what he’s got going on, so you stand there shifting your antsy feet.

There’s a strange, rustling sound that catches you off guard with your eyes closed. It drags on for a long moment. Curiosity pries at your eyes; you want nothing more than to just crack an eye open to spy the source of the ruckus. 

It’ll be gone if you do, anyway.

You let out a surprised squeak as something rises up beneath you, as if risen from nothing more than the dirt and roots of the forest floor, bringing you up from the earth. You wobble and send your hands out to find a perch.

A horse. It’s a horse, its mane so tangled and windswept, but matted and clumped with leaves that crunch under your palm when you find them. It reeks of mud—everything around you begins to smell of earth and decomposition.

You know that if you open your eyes, you’ll find yourself sat upon the pale white steed of the Undead King, its eyes white and its knobby knees almost as famous as the leader of The Hunt himself. It chuffs beneath you.

“Are you ready?” Yeonjun says over your shoulder. You can hear the feral grin in his voice. It’s the leader of The Hunt, a creature of folklore, that sits behind you now. He curls an arm around your waist and tugs you closer to him, securing you against the wall of his chest. “Hold on tight, my love.”

The call of the wild, that horn, bellows again like it had the first time you heard it. Rather than coming from nearby as you thought it would, it dances between trees far off just like it had that time, too. Your heart jumps up into your throat.

Taking off with a howl, the Wild Hunt follows it.

You dig your fingers into Yeonjun’s at your waist. Weight melts away, and you know you’re in the air. Your belly swoops in tandem with the howls and hoots of the riders, heart palpitating to the hoofbeats. How there’s hoofbeats as you ride through the air, you’re not sure. The ghostly fleet manifests around you in vivid imagery, though you squeeze your eyes shut. They are wild enough to imagine just what they might look like: with their clothes and flesh in tatters, with their eyes beady or pale, with their hounds piercing the air with their calls and running alongside them, they are a perfect personification of freedom.

Whip-lash sends you reeling, body going rigid. You grit your teeth and squeeze your eyes harder, wishing that you’ll touch ground soon and that everything would become real again.

Yeonjun feels you go stiff. Bringing his head back to your shoulder from his own delight, he says, “It’s okay. You’re okay. Let it into your bones. Do you think I would let it hurt you?”

He is their leader. If it got too much, you know Yeonjun would be there to catch you. Curling your fingers into his, you release that tension and allow their drumbeat to echo through you.

And when it does, your blood begins to sing along. The wind whips your cheeks and your hair, and you begin to laugh with them. The Hunt twists and turns and dances through the air, an apparition in the night, but nothing more than that.

It comes to a slow, eventually, until the noise and even your steed crumbles back down into the dirt it appeared from. Your eyes pop open hoping to catch at least a glimpse of them, but only the dark forest and pale moonlight answer. Your legs threaten to give out on you, veins still thrumming, but, oh, do you feel alive.

You feel more alive than you ever have, more than you ever could have hoped to have known. Mind spinning, you stumble. Yeonjun catches and steadies you before you can go scraping your knees on a rock.

“Oh my fucking god,” you say.

The laugh that Yeonjun breaks into has you sending him a glare, but you break too. Everything about him is ironic; and how ironic indeed that Death himself should show you how to be alive, rather than to just live?

༺ ꘏ ༻

The air is so fresh in your lungs when you step outside that it nearly burns. You clutch your basket of warm fig tarts. Songbirds trill and fly between tree tops that slowly become more bare the deeper you fall into the season, singing their sweet songs that sound like new beginnings.

Raising your hem from the ground churned up into mud from the afternoon’s trickle, you prance into town with a lively pep in your step. You spent all last night making these—Yeonjun had kept you company, watching you how he always does as you pored over making them just right. His cruel snicker when the jam had simmered over flame for too long and became too thick bounces off your bones in a sweet melody. You’ve come to adore his wicked delight, the way his smile cracks over his face and the facetious raise of his brows, more than you fear it.

Sending small smiles to the people that you pass, you stop by a huddle of kids digging sticks into the mud. They look up at you with curious eyes, stopping to gawk.

“Hey, guys,” you say, pulling back the cloth laid over the sweets. “I’ve made some fig tarts. Do you like fig? I bet you’ll like them; they’re sweet.”

The kids stand up, eyes big as they share a look. They don’t let out so much as a peep before they scurry off home.

You blink. Well, you’re used to weird reactions, but that was… different. Picking up your deflated shoulders and hesitant limbs, you make a shoddy attempt at not letting it dampen your good morning. You were expecting wary looks, anyway.

You head down a little further toward the far side of your home village, the side that breaks off after a fenceline into a great, grassy field. There’s a bustle, mothers washing their clothes in pails and hanging them up to dry and a few others whispering at each other lowly as they go about their days.

An old woman so old her back curves and her fingers have gone knobby makes her way to wherever the day’s duty demands her to be. Your neighbor—an eccentric old lady bound in her times. You decide on her: the elderly are forgotten by the young. She might enjoy knowing that her neighbors still know she exists.

“Hello,” you say, showing her your basket with a hopeful, excited heart. “I have some treats that I was wanting to give out. I know they might not be much, but would you like one? I’m not the best baker, but I do it often enough.” A face like that, dragged down by her years on this earth and not long to death, has no doubt spent many years making meals for her family. You imagine your goods would be nothing beside hers, but it’s the gesture, no?

“Oh, girl,” she says, voice crackling as she clutches her shawl tighter around her shoulders. “I’m afraid it’s best if you found yourself missing from this place. Hurry yourself up and spare the drama.”

The incessant cawing of a crow from a clawed tree fades into the background as you furrow your brows and lower your basket to ask, “...Huh?” Your belly goes up in knots; terrible knots done up tight and fast. You haven’t got a clue what she’s talking about. Elders always did speak a bit strange, though. It could be nothing much; she’s a stern old lady.

But her eyes are not angry and glaring in the way that a harrowed old hag might turn her nose up at the youth. They drag down with a cold pity.

“Listen to me, girl.” She points at you with one of those worn, sun-spotted hands. “You had best leave. The boy’s gone, and they are already not fond of you. Who will they point their fingers to?” the woman says. “I hardly know you, but I would hate to see it.”

The rest of her words fade into the roaring in your ears, the feral drumbeat of your heart like a wardrum in the cage of your ribs as it beats against them as if to escape from you. You don’t feel the basket in your hands, don’t feel the solidity of the earth beneath your feet, and don’t feel a single one of your thoughts like tangible things. They flit as if liquidated into a rotten, sick mush.

Nothing. You can think of nothing. Nothing real; nothing holding you to the earth.

“What?” Your voice hardly reaches your ears, but what does is weak and broken and like a plea for her to tell you that it’s not really what you think it is.

And if you could see or hear anything beyond your fraying little rift in reality, you would’ve heard the man coming up to you. You would’ve heard the words coming from his angry, sneering mouth, and would’ve done something when he picked up a pail of water, and you would’ve been shaken by the nasty ice water that runs down your frozen body and plasters your hair and clothes down as he pours it over you. But none of it cuts through your stupor.

He yells some awful, stabbing things at you, and a few others join him. They tell you that you are nothing but a plague, tell you to leave and to not come back here.

But this is your home. Where else would you go?

With your sopping wet dress clutched in your shaking fists as though that might keep you grounded, you choke down the tightening of your throat and sift through their faces, searching for his face. Those brown eyes, brown and always shining with nagging playfulness, do not come up anywhere. Jaw trembling, you search harder. Out on the field where he should be at this time of day, at your doorstep demanding that you go spend the day doing nothing with him, in someone’s yard helping them fix up a broken fence, no matter where you look, neither his broad silhouette nor his cheeky, dimpled face is there. You continue to stand stricken dumb, looking for him even though you know by the churning in your belly that it’s true, and you’re just hurting yourself trying to find him right where he should be.

Fine. Alive. Untouched by your disgusting, destructive presence.

When you can no longer fight the strangling tightness in your lungs and your dress is as heavy as your heart, you take off. The hem of your dress drags in mud and sticker bushes and catches on stray twigs, and you don’t know where you’re going, but you just run. You’ll give them what they want. 

You stumble, probably like some lost, undead thing, until you find yourself at the edge of the forest. Only then do you let the wall of whittle-edged tears roll down your face. And you assume you sound like a choking, dying animal with how you choke and heave on them, but he was the one you might’ve dropped your head and cried to, so what’s the use of making it pretty? No; you let it all fall as it is.

Soobin’s dead. Soobin’s dead, and it’s nobody else’s but your own fault. You clutch your chest to staunch that old ache that’s grown teeth and tears at your heart; you have and will always be the end of everything that comes near. You are just as much the plague that you began to pretend, to believe, you weren’t. It was your stupid hope that maybe you could have something and not watch it become carrion that drove that pick. It was by your hope that he’s gone.

The hair on your arms begins to raise. You pick your head up and find Yeonjun standing in front of you.

There’s a few beats of long, dreadful quiet as he takes in the state of you. He drags his eyes down and they become liquid flame—something different from the impious delight that he is made of. He becomes the King of Death.

“What happened?” he says. The chills on your arms prickle furiously at the words, furling out distant and yet furious like the center of the fire.

You shake your head, wiping your soaked cheek.

“What the fuck happened?” he growls again, taking your face into his hand. “Who did this? Who did this to you, my love? I need you to tell me who the fuck did this to you.”

Letting the venom in your mouth out, you shove his chest and say, “Get away from me. Don’t fucking touch me.”

Yeonjun’s face twists up, looking scalded. Not surprised, though. “Don’t do this,” he says. “Let me hold you while it hurts. Don’t push me away. I can’t… I won’t lose you again.”

All the pieces that you had been putting into the corners of your mind snap together at that. As many suspicions as you had, though, it feels sour hearing it confirmed from his mouth. That you are his dead past lover, reincarnated or whatever you are. That it was his presence—because even though he stayed away for centuries, a part of him still lingered with you—that now has torn down everything you ever thought you could love. He, standing there in front of you like a kicked puppy, is the ruination of your life in the flesh. The flipping of your stomach is nauseating.

“I hate you,” you spit. “I hate you so much.” You repeat it a few more times, and you sob it into his chest as he takes you into his arms. “Is this what you wanted? You’ve been waiting for this forever, haven’t you? To find me again, so that you can die and fucking leave me here. So that you can make me exactly what you are, while you get your peace. You are a liar and a thief. All you’ve ever done is steal and take. How could you do it? Huh? Tell me…” Your voice trembles and staggers off. “Tell me how you made love to me, how you made me believe that you loved me, and all you ever wanted was to save yourself? You betrayed me.”

Pulling back, Yeonjun says, “No.”

“Yes,” you say, stumbling back away from him with a shaking, accusatory finger pointed at him. “Yes you did.”

Fingers itching to reach out to you, he holds them back by curling them into fists. “No. That’s not fair. I have spent an eternity loving you. I spent the entirety of my immortal, monstrous life searching for you, just so that I might find you in any form. I would have been glad to find you as a leaf in a tree, as long as I found you. But, then, I find you alive. Alive and back, as if… it never happened.” He steps toward you, aching to be near you. His voice wavers. “Please, don’t do this to me, love. Please, just let me have you again. I’ve waited… I’ve waited and I’ve waited, and I finally have you, and now you’re looking at me like I… Like I’d ever hurt you. Finding death—finally getting to die would be worth nothing if you weren’t there with me. It was never about that.”

“I could never love you,” you say, matching his steps forward with steps away from him. “I could never love a monster that does… Does nothing but kill. Take.”  You know your words are cruel, but you need them to be. You need him to hurt, you need him to go so far away from you that never again will you cause another living thing’s death. 

“You did.” Yeonjun’s mouth cracks into a pained smile, sharp at the corners. “You loved me just as much as I love you, once.”

“Just leave me. Leave me, and I wish to never see you again. If you love me, then you’ll give me that.” 

He looks at you, clever eyes intense and glassy, for a long time. And then he says, “Would that make you happy? Would it make it so that you could live a happy life, and find yourself something to live for?”

What’s left for you? A small village that won’t ever embrace you? No, it wouldn’t fix your life. But you open your mouth and tell him, “Yes.”

“Okay,” he says, brushing his knuckles over your cheeks reverently. He swallows in your features, running over them for what he knows is the last time he’ll be seeing you—the very last time he’ll see the face of his undying love. When he finally opens his mouth again, his voice is gentle. “I’ll leave you. If my being here hurts you, then I won’t be selfish. I love you, darling.”

Don’t go, you want to tell him. Please don’t leave. Please, hold me. But your mouth is dry, and you let the radiant hurt in your chest stop you. You let him go.

༺ ꘏ ༻

There’s only one place you can think of going to. It’s the only place your vagrant feet take you.

His spot still is held sacred by the flattened, gold wheat stalks. Your best friend, still living here on Earth in at least one way even if he’s not here to listen to your stupid rambling. And he would maybe complain, but he’d always listen.

The last thing you’d done was fight with him. What an awful thing—what an awful way to repay him for being the only one who ever dared to get close.

You sit in your spot, beside his, and rest your chin on your knees. If only the ground beneath you would open up and swallow you whole. You’d deserve it.

What’s left for you? Is there a place in the world that would keep you happily once they see what you do? No. There is not. You wish you knew what to do; you wish you had somebody to ask.

Releasing a long, tight breath, you just sit and wait for something to give you answers. A gentle breeze makes your hair dance, but it does not whisper anything to your ears. Something’s circling over head, but it doesn’t caw in the cadence of his laughter.

The day moves along without you. You’re not sure how long you sit, but it stretches somewhere between a few minutes and eternity. No matter how long you wait, there are no answers. No matter how long you mull over it.

Conceding, you begin to push yourself up from the ground. A rustle in between the foliage stops you before you stand.

A tawny hare leaps out in front of you. It sniffs around you, nose twitching. Then it stands back on its haunches. It stares straight at you, an intelligent light in its eyes that knits your brows. The wild thing stands there with a purpose that is uncharacteristic of a forest animal.

But entirely familiar in the face of your best friend. That shine in its eyes as it stands there, nose still twitching, makes your chest tighten up.

“Hey,” you say, as if it might answer you. Your eyes well up with hot tears again. Of course, it doesn’t. 

Maybe you’ve gone mad, but you know that it’s him. That idiot, coming to show you that he’s okay in the afterlife—to visit one last time and to let you know that you shouldn’t worry for him or cry for him. Look at him, full of life once again, he seems to say. The hare blinks its beady eyes. It lingers there for a long time, the ease of peace found in his gaze that Soobin hadn’t had in this life, saying that there is still something waiting out there for us once we go. You reach out a hand. He does not flinch as you scratch behind its ear.

“Okay,” you whisper. “I’m glad to know you’re alright. I know what I need to do, now.”

He blinks.

You laugh a hoarse, breathy laugh, familiar in only the way that Soobin could achieve. “You look stupid.”

Indignantly, the hare stops a bratty foot in a way reminiscent of one of Soobin’s huffs before it settles back down onto its forelegs and scurries off. He goes to live out this new form of life, because it’s true: life does not end in death. He’s shown you that.

Maybe, like this, he’ll find that pretty lady that loves him the way he deserves. That loser.

༺ ꘏ ༻

You spend only one night in your home and you know that what you’ve chosen is right. After spending your day out in the field, you sneak under night’s cover into your husk of a room and let yourself sleep there under the covers one last time. When morning breaks through the window, you gather your weary bones up and leave. 

You run into your mother on the way out. She doesn’t yell at you to leave, but her eyes have gone cold. Colder than you’re used to. You’ve killed again, in every way that counts. So you don’t bother with bidding her or any of them any grand goodbyes. You couldn’t handle the relief you might find falling over them, should you.

Plopping down to the floor, you take a few bites of the cheese and bread lathered in sweet jam that you’d swiped from the kitchen. The grass is long and willows in the wind, bending and dancing prettily. It’s so soft; you enjoy the feeling of it beneath your fingers in your quiet serenity. The scent of it, fresh over the baseness of dirt, you breathe into your lungs.

It would be the loveliest place to spend the rest of eternity.

For the first time, Yeonjun appears in front of you rather than behind you. He materializes from nothing, his elbow on his knee as casual as if he’d been sat there the whole time. The darkness beneath his eyes seems heavier, but then again you know that exact heaviness. It sits right in the very center of you.

You both are quiet for a bit. You let the tall grass whisper, instead.

“Bread?” you say and slant your lips into a smile. Bringing it up, you offer it to him.

His smile wrinkles his nose and curls at the edges. Entirely him. Yeonjun accepts the bread, ripping a bite out before throwing it away into the sea of green. Once he’s chewed, he leans in and captures your lips in a kiss that’s utterly at odds with his sharp mouth. Your lips move over each other gently, save for an indulgent nip or bite here and there.

He pushes you back into a bed of sweetgrass, never letting your lips go. Not to breathe, not to say something that’ll pale in comparison to the sweetness of your mouths on one another. He kisses you until he’s had enough to fulfill a lifetime without it, and then some more.

“My love,” he whispers into your skin, his breath hot on your collarbone. “Mine,” he says, pressing a kiss into the column of your neck, and then he says it again with a hot kiss to the place where your dress suggests your breasts. He says it a handful more times as he pushes your skirts up your thighs. “My love forever. I waited for you so long, and I would do it again.” Lowering his voice to a honeyed whisper, he adds, “I would find you no matter what.”

Laughing softly, you run your fingers through his raven hair to better see his eyes. You know he would.

Gently giving you one more of his lingering kisses that make your skin tingle, right into your bare shoulder, he presses into you. You loose a soft breath, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. The beating in your chest slows to a content purr as he begins languid thrusts in and out of you, rolling pointedly and unhurried.

Yeonjun makes love to you in a thousand dusted kisses and sweet words, your hands holding each other’s soft edges. Yeonjun traces the lines of you, taking the pads of his thumb down your cheeks and your lips and then his hand over the swell of your breasts and down your belly and over your thighs. Clamping down on him as your belly grows tight in the way it had the first time you had done this, your thighs begin to shake.

 Breathlessly, as you hurdle over the edge, all that you can say is, “I love you, ‘Junnie.” 

Yeonjun smiles at you and then presses his face into your neck. He doesn’t even brace himself against the grass to chase his own peak. Neither of you want this to end; you want to hold on to this moment and let it span forever. Slowly, Yeonjun rolls up into you until his hips finally stutter and he cums into you, his cheeks pink. The weight of him above you as he shakes with your shared ecstasy, and even as you both have come down and are nothing but lazy, is the only thing in this world. He is the only thing in this world.

Once you’ve both evened your breathing out, you roll apart and face each other, still just two forms bending the grass into your shapes. Blinking slowly and digesting his features one at a time—the angle of his eyes, softened but never tamed, the line of his nose, the line of his mouth always so proud and playful, and that pretty dot below his left eye—you let them solidify fully in your mind.

“Yeonjun,” you say, finally meeting his eyes across from you. “I want to go. I’m ready.”

The gentle, knowing look that he gives you soothes over the way your heart begins to race in your chest in rebellion. “I know,” he says.

Of course he had known. Yeonjun had been called here to ferry you into the afterlife. He had known the moment he appeared in front of you that his last soul to reap would be you; an ironic circle of karma that should be cruel, but you two make it something sweet. Chewing on your lip, you will your hands to not shake as you curl toward him. You’re no longer scared of going. You know that if you’ll be with him, it will be okay. It won’t be so scary. A hot tear rolls down your temple and then drops into your hair. “Will you be with me? I won’t be there alone?”

He tucks some hair behind your ear reverently and then leaves his hand there. “I don’t know,” he answers. “But I won’t leave you. I’ll stay right here with you.”

You lay there for a long time. Chatting and giggling and just looking into each other's eyes, until your heart becomes slow and all you feel is the wind singing in your blood. Yeonjun presses one final kiss to your forehead.

Maybe, in some years, somebody might dig up your bones and find you immortalized like this in your love. Your bones bowing toward each other, as if even death were not enough to stop you from reaching for each other. Or maybe they’ll just find yours, and Yeonjun still curling into them how you know he will for an eternity more.

Either way, the going is still slow and gentle, as death always is.

🪶 ⦂ tears. omfg i cried writing this which could totally be me being a bitch baby but it DAMN. omfg.

rꫀׁׅܻblogs & asks arꫀׁׅܻ always apprꫀׁׅܻciatꫀׁׅܻd!

▸ tׁׅagᥣׁׅ֪ꪱׁׅstׁׅ @lvrs-street2mmorrow , @soohashits , @f4iryfever , @arcturus444 , @linqed , @serenityism00 , @immelissaaa , @luv4cheol , @lickingan0rchid , @20-cms , @hhoneylix , @beestvng , @hyucktapes , @bewitchless , @prince-jjae , @blankliving , @yaoizee , @stormy1408 , @missychief1404 , @izzyy-stuff , @miukuui , @lunesdesire , @sunoolver , @cherricola-star , @xylatox , @filmnings , @hearteyes4hobi , @hyunj00 , @kangtaehyunfan029 , @caratcakemoa, @wtevr-whocares, @usuallyunlikelyfox, @zi-vian, @brrytears, @stormy1408, @soobabby, @nshmrarki, @dontwannacry04. if your tag isn't working, check the mentions part of your settings!

[uno-san]

True to His Word (Stanley Pines x Reader)

Greetings! @princeasimdiya12 requested a special Aladdin Inspired short that was a delight to write! I didn't follow the prompt to the tee but I hope that you enjoy what I cooked up regardless. And to those in my inbox, have no fear! For YOUR 🫵 request might be next. Stay turned!

On dry and scorching days like this, traversing through a crowd of folk buying and selling wares was like a death sentence. Not only did the added body heat of the crowd make you dizzy but the added cramped space reminded you of the very prison you were trying to escape from. Your home. The palace to be more specific, but certainly where you grew up.

It was only from your place of privilege that you could call your position as princess a curse. Knowing that your life didn’t simply just hold fancy banquets that filled your belly or expensively imported fabrics from countries that most peasants couldn’t even conceive, it also held a role for you to play. A script that you shouldn’t dare stray from in fear of everything around you crumbling into nothing. The pressure of failing hundreds of years worth of ancestors.

You know. Easy responsibilities of a princess.

Perhaps that’s why as of late you’ve taken to finding your way out from behind the palace’s walls. Without protection of your family and city guard you could simply exist. Not practice another language, skills to attract a suitor, or bend under the will of your parents.

This was your chance, even for a few hours, to be free. With either being yourself or even discovering what kind of person you are without outside pressure. Even getting the chance to know the citizens that you will one day rule beside your partner was a gift that most royals often refuse.

Your attempts at rebellion had been successful only a few times which wholefully gave you a disadvantage when visiting a street market for the first time. Was it always this busy? Or was today a celebration of something far beneath your station that you weren’t even aware of it? Admittedly it did make you miss your palace servants. That pang of homesickness frustrated you after all that talk of freedom. Though perhaps old habits die hard.

“We have newly brought in dresses from our sister nation, for the low, low price of-”

“Fresh fruits and vegetables are available here! Straight from the ground and into your hands for the best prices. Fill your basket and get-”

“Offering trades for any one of my wares!”

Hearing one sales pitch after another was like hearing a cacophony of balls all at once. Maybe you were even being rung yourself as you struggled to walk without getting knocked around by someone far sturdier than you. The hustle and bustle of the market didn’t even allow you the chance to give apologies from the invasion of space.

Your heart raced with all the stimuli you had yet to grow accustomed to, pounding away at your chest as if you didn’t have enough things bumping into you already. It was nearly too much for a pampered princess. Almost. After all, if this is what the general populace have to deal with on a day to day basis, shouldn’t it be your duty to understand their plight on a more personable level?

Suddenly a hand shot through the crowd to grasp onto yours. The contact was enough to knock both the wind and confidence out of you before you were dragged out of the market and off your feet. Looking ahead to see who had grabbed you proved fruitless with everybody you were being brushed past. Even your cries of protest were outbid by the various merchants already calling for attention.

Have you been found out? Was it the guards? Or worse? Some criminal looking to make a big buck with the kidnapping of a princess. The thought made you pale. That, and the ever looming alleyway that you’ve just now realized you’re pulling into to get out of sight from the main streets of the open market. At least it wasn’t claustrophobic.

“Hey!” Your voice finally boomed in the stone alleyway, “I demand that you release me immediately or else I-”

You were shoved against the wall. Your shoulder blade nearly scratched against the coarse surface but a large hand covering your mouth stopped your wince of pain. Staring back into your wide eyes were a pair of brown ones that were dark and foreboding. The man had tanned skinned from days spent out in the sun while his long brown hair was pulled into a low ponytail that hung off of his shoulder. There was a roughness to the man that made you scared, yet…intrigued as the hand used to silence you lifted itself. In its stead the man raised a finger to his mouth for a ‘Shh’

Just outside where you two hid the sound of rushing footsteps dragged your attention to the source. In small groups were guards dressed in armor you could recognize from being from the palace. Your family’s personal colors. Not the city. Though they did not have their blades drawn they still traveled with an urgency.

“Gah, where did she go?” One voice growled while they skulked passed while seemingly not noticing or caring to check the alley you were hidden in, “Scatter and find her now.”

With a scattering of ‘Yes, sir’ the sound of their ever growing search became distant. You still held in your breath as your gaze cautiously slid back towards the stranger. His attention was still towards the entryway to the alley, leaving the positioning of the light streaming into cast harsh shadows across his face to highlight his sharp jawline. The sun nearly made his eyes glow gold.

In spite of the situation at hand you found yourself turned red.

Thankfully only an eternity passed before the man let out a sigh of relief and turned to address you, a wide grin nearly splitting his face in half while he allowed air to flow between your bodies again.

“That was a close one, eh?” He winked at you, “Saw them tailing ya for awhile now. Luckily your pal Stanley was here to help out or who knows what might have happened.” The man, now identified as Stanley, patted your shoulder before stepping out to the entrance to look both ways for any incoming trouble. “What’s got palace guards so hyped up about ya anyway? Must have stolen something good, or…”

His gaze swept back to your still bewildered form and hummed. Was he trying to judge your character at this moment? Or maybe even recognize you as the princess of this city and realize what a prize he’s just passed up.

The palm of your hands finally grew sweaty and you moved to wipe them off on the fabric of your cloak that hid a majority of your form, only allowing your finer curves to shine through. Had you really been so reckless? A part of you was beginning to understand your family’s paranoia a bit better.

“-princess?” “WHAT?”

Stanley gave you a look, “I said, ‘or pissed off the princess’ since you’re, well…y’know…attractive, or…” Now his own pause gave way for awkwardness. His eyes wandered to anywhere but your growing smile before he coughed, “Forget it. Anyways, I’ve got some stuff of my own to attend to so I gotta get-”

“Thank you,” You politely interrupted, raising a hand to tuck away a strand of hair when a ray of light hit the golden bracelet wrapped around your wrist. It had been a gift from your family last year for your birthday and since then you’ve hardly taken it off, even with your peasant disguise. Again he began to stare so you quickly added, “You didn’t have to go to the trouble of helping me out, but you did. I hope to one day pay you back.”

“Oh, pffft, don’t worry about it! Besides, the street trash has to stick together, don’t we? We’re a rare species, me and you.”

‘You and I’, you internally corrected.

He stepped forward with an arm outstretched to wrap around your shoulders, guiding you further into the alley without much resistance from you. Though he did not draw you in, Stan did take charge in what was soon becoming a casual stroll through the streets. Every now and then you’d catch him eyeing your surroundings as if more palace guards would jump from the shadows at any moment to drag you away once and for all.

“Listen…How about your pal sticks around for a bit longer? You might be a rat like me but I can tell you’re new to these streets. I’ll just keep an eye on ya. Make sure the heat has gotten off your back.” Again he winked.

You blushed in return and you caught his grin from the corner of your eye while you glanced away to gather yourself, “At any point should I be worried about you as my guardian?”

“Eh, was gonna rob ya at the end of the night so you’ll be fine ‘till then!” The uproarious laugh that followed afterward made you join in with your own, though not as powerful as Stanley’s.

__

The two of you conversed for a long while. At first it was mainly comprised of Stanley telling jokes that you’d have to either genuinely or politely laugh at, or he’d take his time telling a daring story of some petty theft he’s done in the past with an excitable gleam in his eye. Having no actual street experience of your own you did your best to contribute to the conversation with a few embellished stories of your own.

Though the mood remained light you did catch the occasional glance of Stanley actually trying to take care of you. Either with keeping an eye down the path you both walked, or drawing you into his side in a near embrace when somebody brushed past you to attend to their own business. You felt selfish in relishing in the attention. Especially when you had loathed the same sort from your family.Yet despite all of his talk, Stanley still felt so…safe.

Eventually a silence fell between the two of you that was only filled with the soft dragging of your shoes against the paved ground beneath you. With the sun beginning to fade away you could also just faintly hear the chirp of the bugs that came out at night. It was the exact sort of peace you were hoping to find outside of the palace.

Stanley broke the silence first, “So, ever plan on telling me why?”

“Hm?” You cocked your head.

“The guards,” He reminded you, “Why were the palace guards chasing ya?”

Choosing not to respond straight away you kept your gaze fixated on the ground, drawing in air from between your teeth. You’ve had all this time to come up with a lie. Had you been so preoccupied in his presence that basic safety wasn’t a priority? In the face of your silence Stanley fell out of step with you, instead standing with a stern look in his eye that made you want to shrink in on yourself.

“Don’t try and tell me ya stole something. Else they would have made a ruckus when they found ya, but they didn’t. They tailed instead.” The thoughtful expression he held felt almost unfitting on the man you hardly knew, “Not that I’m paranoid or anything, but-” “THERE SHE IS!” Before the shock could even hit your system Stanley was dragging you behind him again. This time you were able to scramble on your feet faster than before. The peaceful sounds of the night were replaced by the pounding of your heart in your ears. Glancing over your shoulder you could just make out the silhouettes of your pursuers who were hot on your tail.

Stanley’s attention remained ahead. He’d take you left from right without a moment's thought as to where the two of you were actually headed. That became abundantly clear when Stanley finally made a wrong turn. A dead end that branched off to another dead end filled with discarded crates from shipments long past. You heard him curse beneath his breath before trying to find an alternative route. It was too late.

Sensing that the jig was up you unceremoniously placed your foot on the curve of Stan’s ass, shoving with all your might to kick him back into the alley and plummeting into the boxes below. He was left swearing from the fall while you hurried to smooth out your outfit as if to suggest you hadn’t done anything wrong by evading the guards all day who, at this point, managed to catch up to you.

You stepped forward to the clearly out of breath party to stop any perceptive eyes from spotting Stanley. The leader of the pact, whom you unfortunately did recognize, was the first to step forward. Not with a sword in hand but a furrowed brow. “Princess,” The man emphasized as if to ensure Stanley heard, “You’ve been fleeing from us all day. Do you have any idea how worried your parents are?” His tone was polite despite the venom hiding behind it. He didn’t like playing babysitter for someone like you.

“I apologize for making you run around all day. I was being selfish for wanting some outside air. Your dedication in doing so however will be rewarded by my father,” A part of you truly did feel sorry, and prayed that your politeness would soothe over what was sure to be a fight the moment you stepped behind palace walls. When he didn’t reply right away you bit the inside of your cheek.

His eyes must have burned themselves into your soul before he faced away from you. Immediately he began to bark orders to his still recovering guards. Secure a path to the castle, inform his royal blaah, blah, blah blah, blaaaaah…

You were back to being a treasure to protect. Without voice or opinion. For having people’s lives revolve around you it felt like a karmic justice to have none of your own. Deciding to play further into your role you folded your hands into each other, offering no opinions or comments. It would have been infuriating if you weren’t given the opportunity to slide your gaze towards the branching off alleyway where you had kicked Stanley into.

Stanley’s presence nearly made you gasp aloud as you had expected him to have abandoned you long ago. While he still made an effort to hide from the sight of your guards you could barely make out his head poking out from between boxes. It appeared he had time to process the reveal of your status as a princess as his face had a clear look of ‘Really?’

There was an almost embarrassment to it as well, considering all that he had to say about you earlier. Yet in spite of the fear that you would retaliate against such behavior he still stayed. From the shadows he made an obscene gesture that made you giggle and cover your mouth, your bracelet clattering soundlessly against your-

Soundless?

Your eyes snapped to your bare wrist that sported a light tan line. Immediately you search the area around you in the hopes of a light reflecting back from its metallic band. A soft whistle dragged your attention back to Stanley who had swirling on his finger-

Your bracelet.

His grin was infectious as you soon copied it. The bracelet may have been a gift yet it wasn’t one to be robbed with abandon. You had many more like it back at home.

Stanley winked at you while taking a step back into the shadows, out of reach of both the guards and you with each passing second. It was just as you heard the murmurings of your group beginning to prepare for their trip back that you noticed Stanley mouthing to you before he was gone himself, “Told ya so.”

[travelingthief]

Aristaeus

Offerings

Bee imagery

Honey

Honey sticks

Honeycomb

Honey pots/stirrers

Beeswax 

Beeswax wraps

Pieces of hives

Any fruits/vegetables (especially ones you grew/harvested)

Cheese

Farm animal imagery

Animal hides

Farm equipment

Garden equipment

Meats

Herbs

Bow and arrows

Hunting gear

Shepherd’s crook imagery

Sheep imagery

Woven baskets

Crochet/knitting/sewing supplies

Leather

Leatherworking supplies

Milk

Hay

Eggs

Flowers

Pinned bugs

Homemade products/items

Wine/beer

Golds/yellows/oranges

Devotional Acts

Learn about bees/beekeeping

Garden

Join a community garden

Go to the farmer’s market

Buy local

Learn about herbalism

Aim to lower your waste

Buy for sustainability/reduce consumerism

Care for your pets

Lie in a field

Take a nature walk

Visit a farm/orchard

Create a bee-friendly/pollinator-friendly garden

Don’t use pesticides/advocate for restrictions on pesticides

Crochet/knit/sew

Cook/bake

Pottery

Hunt

Learn animal tracks

Learn plants/crops native to your area

Eat seasonal fruits/vegetables

Reduce, reuse, recycle

Woodcarving

Whittling

Soap making

Candle-making

Leatherworking

Make soup

Make a simmer pot

Dry your clothes on a line

Have a compost bin (it’s easy!)

Have an herb garden

Shift to a more analog lifestyle

Connect with your neighbors (Make a meal, give small gifts, offer a favor, etc.)

[svaints]

Seeing your rules for Rollo, I am genuinely interested of a Rollo x baker reader, especially with trying to befriend him, I just find the idea cute-

Like- what if reader tries to befriend friends him by giving him some bake goods as a gift ( especially croissants )

|𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝐼𝑆 𝑠𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑎 𝑐𝑢𝑡𝑒 𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑎. 𝐴𝑙𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑟𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒 ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠𝑛'𝑡 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛 𝑠𝑜 𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑦 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑠𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑙𝑦 𝑝𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑜𝑓𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑒𝑥𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑟.

𝕽𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖔 𝕱𝖑𝖆𝖒𝖒𝖊 | 𝖘𝖋𝖜

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫: 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐞𝐮𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐥

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩

��𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐍𝐨𝐧𝐞

I couldn't tell if he was ignoring or disliked me in some way or form. Was it because he was annoyed or bothered? I wouldn't know, not ever. Everytime I made an approach he's 'busy' with a book, his assignments, a letter, talking to the staff or his vice president and assistant, it's always something.

The thing was I wanted to be his friend, he was alone when I'd see him anywhere. Everyone said he was rude at times but appreciate some traits of his such as being the smartest student and being helpful at times...but what else is what I'm saying.

He's mysterious to me, I'd like to know him better than knowing him based off people speaking about him.

Therefore, around 5 am I woke up early enough to bake.

Every time we're outside for lunch, I see him eating the same thing. Grapes and bread.

"Would he like any bread though? What if he doesn't like banana bread?" I thought.

So I began making plain croissants.

1/4 cups warm milk

2 tablespoons active dry yeast

1/4 cup granulated sugar

3 1/4 cups all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon salt

1 1/4 cups unsalted butter, chilled

Mixing was majority of the process to say the least...In a large bowl I combine flour and salt before adding the yeast mixture, then added everything else but butter and mixed enough till it formed into dough.

Rolling out the dough into a rectangle was fairly easy, I placed the butter in the center and folded the dough over it then again before folding it into thirds, repeating it a few more times.

The final dough was cut into triangles and rolled them into croissants, finally, I prepared a baking pan with the butter and placed them carefully onto the pan.

Meanwhile, I looked around for a spare basket i wouldn't be using anymore but that wasn't damaged either. I found one after a min or two and placed a small towel with elegant prints thinking it would suit his style more.

I placed a few fruits such as grapes of green and purple as well as daffodil from the fresh blooming garden close to the school that I started thinking it would hint the friendship I wanted to build with him.

Come to think of it, what if he doesn't accept my request? Like the other times he turned me away before I even got close to him. He didn't even speak he just left before attending something/someone.

It was worth the try.

After 20 mins then I pulled the croissants out to chill and got another small towel to wrap them all up before placing them in the middle of the basket.

The way it looked with the grapes around and small flowers on the side looked lovely, especially with how the baskets outer layer was decorated.

It was 6:34 am once I made my way to the school grounds and towards the student council office. It was a lovely morning sorta cold, but the view made up for the golden sky mixed in blue on my left.

I walked further into the school grounds and to the office before trying to open the door knowing Rollo may be awake during these hours, he always is to clean and kept the school tidy. I try opening the door again but it was locked.

I sighed setting the basket down beside me and began pulling it open again thinking because I had my hands full I must've not twisted the door knob enough.

"What are doing up so early?"

The sudden question snapped me out and I looked over my shoulder seeing Rollo looking a bit suspicious. He looked down at the basket and then at me. "So?"

I sighed picking it up, "It's unfortunate we get to talk for the first time with me trying to get into the council room but I probably wouldn't have any other opportunity to so I made this for you. It's small but the intention for this is a lot more than what you think..."

His expression was blank showing a hint of concern. He took the basket inspecting it, noticing the daffodil staring at what seemed every detail of it and the grapes before the croissants wrapped up the fresh smell filling his senses.

"I apologize for my actions. I take my responsibilitys serious...Honestly, I have seen you from the corner of my eye and everytime my attention is set to you, something comes up or I'm busy, but please don't take it personally. I don't mean to purposely stray away."

Rollo smiled a bit opening the door for us. I walked in before him as I replied to him. After we cleared the misunderstandings, he invited me for a cup of tea later after school to hand him the recipe for the croissants since he loved them so much.

He was a bit quiet letting me do most of the talking but I'm sure he just wants to know me first before opening himself to me and I was fine with that.

[nibblesgifts]

Nibbles Gifts offers a delightful All-Occasion Dry Fruit, Nut, and Chocolate Wicker Tray, perfect for any celebration or special event. This beautifully crafted wicker tray is filled with a premium selection of handpicked dry fruits, crunchy nuts, and indulgent chocolates, making it a luxurious and thoughtful gift. Whether for birthdays, festivals, or corporate gifts, this elegant tray is designed to impress and satisfy every taste. A perfect blend of health and indulgence, it’s a gift that will be cherished and enjoyed. Read More

[gtagiftbasket]

The Ultimate Guide to Crafting DIY Eid Gift Baskets

Muslims celebrate Eid al-Fitr, the conclusion of Ramadan, with pleasure and celebration all across the world. It's a time to celebrate with food, family get-togethers, and gift-giving as a way of showing gratitude and love. Creating a DIY Eid gift basket according to the recipient's preferences is one of the most creative ways to express your love and affection this Eid.

Introduction to DIY Eid Gift Baskets

Eid gift baskets are a delightful way to express your love and appreciation for friends and family during the festive season. These personalized baskets are filled with carefully chosen items that cater to the recipient's interests, making them a truly meaningful and memorable gift.

During Eid, the act of giving holds special significance, reflecting the spirit of generosity and compassion embodied by the occasion. By crafting a DIY Eid gift basket, you not only showcase your creativity but also convey your heartfelt wishes to your loved ones.

Choosing the Right Theme for Your Eid Gift Basket

When creating a DIY Eid gift basket, it's essential to consider the recipient's preferences and interests. Whether they're a food enthusiast, a beauty lover, or a bookworm, tailoring the theme of the basket to suit their tastes adds a personal touch to your gift.

Traditional themes inspired by Eid motifs and symbols can evoke a sense of cultural pride and nostalgia, while modern themes infused with contemporary elements offer a fresh and stylish twist to the traditional gift-giving tradition.

Essential Components of a DIY Eid Gift Basket

A well-curated Eid gift basket should contain a mix of items that cater to both the recipient's practical needs and their indulgent desires. From delectable treats and gourmet delights to luxurious self-care products and thoughtful trinkets, each component contributes to the overall appeal of the basket.

In addition to selecting high-quality gifts, don't forget to embellish your basket with Eid-themed decorations and accents, such as festive ribbons, sparkling ornaments, and handwritten notes conveying your warm wishes.

Step-by-Step Guide to Crafting Your Eid Gift Basket

Creating a DIY Eid gift basket is a fun and rewarding process that allows you to unleash your creativity. Follow these simple steps to craft a beautiful and personalized gift basket that will delight your loved ones:

Gathering Necessary Supplies: Start by selecting a suitable basket or container to hold your gifts. Gather a variety of items that reflect the chosen theme of your basket, including treats, trinkets, and decorations.

Assembling the Basket: Arrange the items in your basket in an aesthetically pleasing manner, keeping in mind balance and symmetry. Layer the larger items at the back and fill any empty spaces with smaller items or decorative filler.

Adding Personal Touches: Customize your basket by incorporating personal touches, such as handwritten notes, custom-made items, or photos that hold sentimental value. Consider including a heartfelt message or card to convey your warm wishes and blessings.

Creative Ideas for DIY Eid Gift Baskets

The possibilities for DIY Eid gift baskets are endless, allowing you to tailor your gifts to suit the preferences and personalities of your recipients. Here are some creative ideas to inspire your gift-giving endeavors:

Family-Oriented Baskets: Create a family-friendly basket filled with board games, movie night essentials, and gourmet snacks for a fun-filled Eid celebration.

Gourmet Treats Baskets: Indulge the foodies in your life with a basket brimming with artisanal chocolates, gourmet spreads, and exotic teas sourced from around the world.

Spa and Relaxation Baskets: Treat your loved ones to a pampering experience with a spa-themed basket featuring luxurious bath products, scented candles, and plush robes for ultimate relaxation.

Tips for Personalizing Your Eid Gift Basket

Personalization is key when crafting DIY Eid gift baskets, as it allows you to create a truly unique and meaningful gift that resonates with the recipient. Here are some tips for adding a personal touch to your gift baskets:

Adding Custom-Made Items: Incorporate handmade or customized items that reflect the recipient's interests or hobbies, such as personalized jewelry, monogrammed towels, or handcrafted artworks.

Incorporating Cultural Elements: Infuse your gift basket with elements of your cultural heritage, such as traditional handicrafts, festive decorations, or culinary delights that evoke fond memories of Eid celebrations past.

Budget-Friendly Options for DIY Eid Gift Baskets

Crafting a thoughtful and memorable Eid gift basket doesn't have to break the bank. With a little creativity and resourcefulness, you can create beautiful gift baskets on a budget. Here are some budget-friendly ideas to consider:

Utilizing Recyclable Materials: Instead of purchasing expensive baskets or containers, repurpose items you already have at home, such as mason jars, wicker baskets, or decorative boxes.

DIY Gift Ideas: Get creative with DIY gifts that are both meaningful and budget-friendly, such as homemade cookies, infused oils, or handcrafted candles. Not only are these gifts cost-effective, but they also add a personal touch to your basket.

Presentation and Packaging of Your Eid Gift Basket

The presentation of your Eid gift basket is just as important as its contents, as it sets the tone for the recipient's experience. Pay attention to the details when packaging your basket, focusing on aesthetics and visual appeal.

Choosing the Right Container: Select a container that complements the theme and style of your gift basket, whether it's a rustic wooden crate, an elegant wicker hamper, or a decorative gift box adorned with ribbons and bows.

Wrapping Techniques and Embellishments: Use creative wrapping techniques to enhance the presentation of your basket, such as cellophane wrap, tissue paper, or fabric bows. Add embellishments like ribbon, twine, or dried flowers for a finishing touch that adds charm and elegance.

Meaningful Gestures with DIY Eid Gift Baskets

Beyond the material value of the gifts themselves, DIY Eid gift baskets are a heartfelt expression of love, thoughtfulness, and generosity. By investing time and effort into creating personalized gifts for your loved ones, you not only demonstrate your appreciation for them but also strengthen your bonds and create lasting memories.

Sharing DIY Eid Gift Basket Ideas with Friends and Family

Spread the joy of gift-giving by sharing your DIY Eid gift basket ideas with friends and family. Host a DIY gift basket-making party where guests can come together to create personalized gifts for each other, fostering a sense of camaraderie and community spirit.

Encourage others to embrace the spirit of giving by sharing your creative ideas and tips for crafting thoughtful and meaningful Eid gift baskets. Whether it's through social media, blog posts, or word of mouth, inspire others to celebrate the joy of Eid by spreading love and kindness through personalized gifts.

Eid Gift Basket Etiquette

While the act of giving is a cherished tradition during Eid, it's essential to observe proper gifting etiquette to ensure that your gesture is well-received and appreciated. Here are some dos and don'ts to keep in mind when presenting DIY Eid gift baskets:

Dos: Personalize your gift basket based on the recipient's preferences and interests. Include a heartfelt message or card expressing your warm wishes and blessings. Present your gift with humility and sincerity, focusing on the sentiment behind the gesture rather than the monetary value of the gifts.

Don'ts: Avoid giving gifts that may be culturally insensitive or inappropriate. Refrain from overspending or going beyond your means to impress the recipient. Respect the recipient's privacy and preferences regarding gift-giving traditions and customs.

The Joy of Giving and Receiving DIY Eid Gift Baskets

As the saying goes, "It's the thought that counts," and nowhere is this sentiment more evident than during Eid celebrations. The joy of giving and receiving DIY Eid gift baskets lies not in the material value of the gifts themselves but in the love, thoughtfulness, and effort that goes into creating them.

By embracing the tradition of gift-giving and exchanging heartfelt tokens of appreciation, we strengthen our bonds with loved ones and foster a sense of unity and belonging within our communities. Whether you're on the giving or receiving end of a DIY Eid gift basket, cherish the moments of joy, gratitude, and connection that it brings.

DIY Eid Gift Basket Ideas for Different Age Groups

Eid celebrations are inclusive of people of all ages, from young children to elderly relatives. When crafting DIY Eid gift baskets, consider the age and interests of the recipients to ensure that your gifts are well-suited to their preferences.

Kids' Gift Baskets: Fill children's gift baskets with toys, games, and sweets that cater to their age and interests. Include fun activities such as coloring books, puzzles, or craft kits to entertain them during Eid celebrations.

Adult-Themed Baskets: For adults, consider gift baskets filled with gourmet treats, fine wines, or self-care products for a relaxing and indulgent Eid experience. Tailor the contents of the basket to reflect the recipient's tastes and preferences, whether they're a foodie, a wine connoisseur, or a wellness enthusiast.

Incorporating Technology into DIY Eid Gift Baskets

In today's digital age, technology plays an integral role in our daily lives, even during festive occasions like Eid. Consider incorporating technology into your DIY Eid gift baskets to add a modern and innovative twist to traditional gift-giving.

Digital Gift Cards: Instead of traditional gift cards, opt for digital gift cards that can be instantly delivered via email or messaging apps. Choose retailers or online platforms that offer a wide selection of products and services to cater to the recipient's preferences.

Personalized Playlists: Create personalized playlists or music compilations that reflect the recipient's musical tastes and preferences. Include a mix of Eid-themed songs, traditional melodies, and favorite tracks to set the mood for festive celebrations.

Digital Photo Albums: Compile a digital photo album or slideshow featuring cherished memories and moments shared with the recipient. Include photos from past Eid celebrations, family gatherings, or special occasions to evoke nostalgia and create a sense of connection and camaraderie.

Conclusion

Crafting DIY Eid gift baskets is a heartfelt and meaningful way to celebrate the joyous occasion of Eid al-Fitr. By personalizing your gifts and tailoring them to the preferences and interests of your loved ones, you not only express your love and appreciation but also create lasting memories and strengthen your bonds with family and friends.

As you embark on your gift-giving journey, remember that it's the thought and effort behind the gesture that truly matters. Whether you're crafting elaborate gourmet baskets or simple handmade gifts, let your creativity and sincerity shine through, and spread love and joy to all those around you.

Unique FAQs

Q: Can I reuse items from previous gift baskets to create new ones?

A: Absolutely! Repurposing items such as baskets, ribbons, and decorations not only reduces waste but also adds a touch of nostalgia to your new creations.

Q: How far in advance should I start planning my DIY Eid gift baskets?

A: It's never too early to start planning! Give yourself ample time to gather supplies, brainstorm ideas, and craft your gift baskets with care and attention to detail.

Q: Are there any traditional Eid gifts that I should include in my gift baskets?

A: While there are no strict rules, traditional Eid gifts such as dates, sweets, and perfumes are always appreciated and can add a touch of cultural authenticity to your baskets.

Q: Can I personalize my gift baskets for friends of different faiths or backgrounds?

A: Absolutely! Personalizing your gift baskets based on the recipient's interests, preferences, and cultural background shows thoughtfulness and consideration, regardless of their religious beliefs.

Q: How can I ensure that my DIY Eid gift baskets are environmentally friendly?

A: Opt for eco-friendly packaging materials, such as recyclable paper, cardboard, or biodegradable packaging peanuts. Choose sustainable gifts and treats sourced from ethical and environmentally responsible suppliers whenever possible.

[azne09]

Satul Umbrelor

Author’s note : This text is an alternative version of the village of shadow’s fairytale from the prologue and epilogue of the game. This version is centered on the original characters of a fan fiction I’m working on. Please feel free to remark any spelling mistakes and typos ! English isn’t my first language.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

   Once upon a time, there was a brother and a sister who lived in a very small house with their sick mother. The little brother was brave and dauntless, with innocent eyes blue as clear as the summer sky. But he never listened to his sister’s commands and always did as he pleased.

      The older sister was kind and patient, with beautiful red hair as bright as the oven fire. But she always scolded her brother and was sure that she was always right about everything.

      One day, the little brother decided to go into the woods with his friends to search for berries. Before he left the house, his sister warned him :

     “Listen to me and be careful ! Do not wander too close to the dark forest ! Or else, you will get lost, and the Enchantress of the Village of Shadows will eat you !”

     The brother didn’t care to listen, and went into the woods happily chanting. After searching and searching through the bushes, his friends rejoiced with their baskets full. But the little boy’s basket, however, was empty.

     After his friends went back home to show their mothers the fruits of their picking, the little boy was left all alone in the woods, upset. Sitting on a tree trunk, he threw rocks on the ground while cursing the bushes for not giving him any berries.

     Suddenly, a black raven flew over his head and landed on a branch.

     “Croaak croaak !” says the raven. “Come to the Village of Shadows, little boy ! You will find loads of berries in every bush ! The most delicious ones you will ever find !”

     Ignoring his sister’s warning, the little boy jumped back on his feet and followed the raven down to the dark forest’s entrance.

     Meanwhile, at home, the older sister waited for her brother to come back. The clock was ticking fast, and soon the night would fall outside. So, the sister decided to search for him herself, and went into the woods.

     After calling his name in vain, a snake hissed at her to come closer.

     “Psssss psssss !” says the snake. “Be quick, be quick dear girl ! Your brother hassssssss gone to the dark foressssssst ! You must hurry to ssssssave him, else the Enchantressssssss will eat him ! Be quick, be quick !”

     Horrified, the sister thanked the snake and hurried into the dark forest. As she walked through a path of crooked trees and twisted thorns, the girl continued to call for her brother. She called his name again and again, until her throat went dry.

     She stopped by an arch of trees, and opened her water bottle. But at that moment, three little bats crawled from the branches of the trees and pleaded :

     “Oh please, generous girl, let us drink with you ! We are so thirsty, we do not even have the strength to fly anymore !”

     So, the young girl poured the water in her hands, and allowed the three bats to drink until the last drop. Their little stomachs full again, the bats flew around in joy.

     Suddenly, a voice called out to the girl, and the King of Bats appeared.

     “Forgive me for intruding on your forest sir,” the girl said with a bow. “I am searching for my brother. Please, have you seen him ?”

     “Alas, dear girl, I have not seen him.” the King said “But I shall reward your generosity with a gift. Come, dear girl, quench your thirst.”

     The three bats gave her a silver cup, and the King of Bats bit his right wing to pour some of his blood. The girl smiled, drank the sweet blood from the cup, and thanked the King and his subjects.

     After leaving the forest, she ended up roaming around an abandoned cemetery, covered by a freezing fog. As she walked across the tombs, shaking in her poorly stitched dress, she heard the sound of snobs. Frightened at first, the girl continued to walk until she found a garden of weeping flowers.

     “Oh please, compassionate girl, pick us up and put us on those poor soul’s tombs ! We wish to keep them company until our last petals drop, so they do not feel lonely anymore !”

     So, the young girl picked up the flowers one by one, mixing them together to create colorful bouquets, and carefully laid them down on top of every grave. 

     Suddenly, the wind began to blow, and a Dark Weaver appeared.

     “Forgive me for intruding your graveyard sir” the girl said with a bow. “I am searching for my brother. Please, have you seen him ?”

     “Alas, dear girl, I have not seen him.” the Weaver said “But I shall reward your compassion with a gift. Come, dear girl, warm yourself up.”

     In a blink of an eye, the Dark Weaver turned the fog into a beautiful gown, embellished with colorful flowers. The girl smiled, twirled around joyfully, and thanked the Dark Weaver and the flowers.

     Still looking for her brother, the girl embarked on a little boat to cross a perilous lake. Her stomach growled as she watched the fishes jumping across the waves, before a shark appeared on the surface. The girl screamed at first, before noticing that the shark's fin was bleeding.

     “Oh please, merciful girl, heal my wound ! It is so painful, I barely even have the strength to swim anymore !”

     The girl waved at the shark to come closer, and tore a piece of her precious dress apart to wrap it around the wound as a bandage. Feeling much better, the shark swam around, joyfully splashing some water on the girl who laughed along.

     Suddenly, the waves began to rise higher and higher, and the Fish King appeared.

     “Forgive me for intruding on your lake sir.” the girl said with a bow. “I am searching for my brother. Please, have you seen him ?”

     “Alas, dear girl, I have not seen him” says the King. “But I shall reward your mercy with a gift. Come, dear girl, fill up your stomach.”

     The King gave her two of his scales, one warm and salty, one fresh and sweet. The girl smiled, satisfied her hunger, and thanked the Fish King and the shark.

     Once she reached the shore, the girl ended up in a kingdom made of steel. Two wolves soldiers were guarding the entrance in their armors, but they both were asleep. 

     And as the girl advanced, she found out that the entire kingdom was asleep and that every gear was still, covered in dust and webs, rusting and rotting.

     A little wolf cub howled at her, and took her to the kingdom’s castle. Inside, the wolf cub guided the girl until they stopped in front of a rusty statue in the shape of a horse.

     “Oh please, gracious girl, lift the curse of our kingdom ! Since its heart has stopped, time has stopped as well !”

     “But how does one lift such a curse ? How can I make its heart beat ?” The girl asked herself out loud.

     With only one idea in mind, she placed a gentle kiss on top of the statue’s head, and all the rust and dust vanished away. 

     The mechanical heart started beating again, the gears began to turn, and the wolves howled in joy as they awakened from their slumber. The kingdom regained its shining golden colors, and the people celebrated their freedom.

     Suddenly, the statue turned into an Iron Steed, adorned with gold, and spoke to the girl :

     “Thank you, dear girl. Only a kiss can make one’s heart beat. The curse is broken, and I shall reward your graciousness with a gift.”

     The Iron Steed bowed its head before her, allowing her to take the golden crown on its head. The girl smiled, put the crown on her head, and thanked the Steed and the wolves. Then yet again, she asked her question : 

     “I am searching for my brother. Please, have you seen him ?”

     “I know where you can find him” The Steed told her. “I will take you to the waterfall behind which the Enchantress lives, but I will not go any further.”

     Overjoyed, the young girl hugged the Steed, climbed on its back, and galloped away to the Enchantress’s domain. Soon they reached a waterfall of night sky, with stars falling down from the sky. 

     The young girl got off the Iron Steed’s back, thanked it once again, and passed through the black waterfall under the mocking sneers of ravens. She walked and walked into the unknown, crying out her brother’s name.

     Suddenly, a light appeared, and the darkness swirled around it like a storm. In a magical cloud of stars, The Enchantress appeared before the young girl’s eyes, maleficent, yet magnificent.

     “Oh please, lady of shadows,” pleaded the young girl “set my brother free ! He is just a boy and he is so little, he doesn’t know any better !”

    The Enchantress spoke with a cruel voice.

     “The more you get, the more you crave. If you have nothing to offer me then I have nothing to give you back !”

     The girl offered her the golden crown that the Iron Steed had given her. But the Enchantress only laughed.

     “Foolish girl ! I am queen of this village ! All the crowns and the jewels, let it be made of gold, silver, or bronze, are already mine !”

     So instead, the girl offered her a piece of the fresh and sweet scale that the Fish King had given her. But the Enchantress simply laughed again.

     “Foolish girl ! I am queen of this village ! All the fishes of the lake, whether big or small, from their bones to their scales, are already mine !”

     With a gulp, the girl offered her the flowers of the dress that the Dark Weaver had given her. But yet again, the Enchantress mocked her.

    “Foolish girl ! I am queen of this village ! Every flower of the land, blooming or not, from their stem to their petals, are already mine !”

    Desesprate, the girl offered her the few drops of blood left from the cup the King of Bats had given her. And all she received was, once again, the Enchantress’s vicious laugh.

     “Foolish girl ! I am queen of this village ! My subjects, from their hair to their blood, and their souls, are already mine !”

     Appalled by her wickedness, the young girl begged the Enchantress in the name of everything good in the world. But her heart was as black as the starless night, and made of nothing but coldness but evilness.

     So, with tears in her eyes, the young girl offered her all she had left. With a sharp raven’s feather, she cut off her beautiful red hair, and gave it to the Enchantress. 

     Surprised by her determination, the Enchantress did not laugh. She observed the gorgeous red hair carefully, before breaking the silence with her words :

     “Very well, foolish girl. I shall reward your perseverance with a gift : I will set your brother free, and you shall take him back home with you. However, if you dare take one single glance behind before reaching the exit, then his soul will remain in my village forever !”

     The girl nodded her head, and the darkness twirled around the star once more like a storm. The Enchantress vanished, and the little brother appeared frightening the ravens away with a wooden sword. He ran into his sister’s arms, crying tears of joy, as she held him tight against her heart.

     “Oh dear sister, please forgive me !” he cried out “I promise that I will always listen to you, and that I will always be very careful ! I love you more than anything in the world !”

     “I love you too, sweet brother. Let us go back home to mother ! But whatever you do, do not look behind you !”

    Hand in hand, the brother and the sister passed through the dark waterfall, and began their journey back to their home. As they walked through the Kingdom made of steel, the Iron Steed and the wolves howled :

     “Be quick, be quick, gracious girl ! But do not look behind you !”

     Then, they embarked on the boat to cross the perilous lake. And as they navigated, the Fish King and the sharks rose the surface to say :

     “Be quick, be quick, merciful girl ! But do not look behind you !”

     Once they reached the shore, the sister took her brother’s hand and led him across the cold graveyard. And as they walked through the fog, the Dark Weaver and the flowers whispered :

     “Be quick, be quick compassionate girl ! But do not look behind you !”

     Finally, they reached the dark forest and began running towards the sunrise’s light ahead of them. As they ran through the crooked trees, the King of Bats and his subjects chanted :

     “Be quick, be quick generous girl ! But do not look behind you !”

     But suddenly, the young girl tripped and fell over a thorn. And her little brother, who loved her more than anything in the world, looked behind to help his sister back up.

     Disaster ! Suddenly an immense flock of ravens flew across the trees, and the voice of the Enchantress filled the entire forest like a piercing thunder :

     “Reckless boy who nevers listens ! Now, your soul belongs to me ! You will never leave this village, never !”

     Taking one last chance to save him, the young girl pushed her brother into the light, sacrificing her soul, as a wave of black feather swallowed her whole. 

     The boy cried out his sister’s name, but it was already too late. The crooked trees of the forest fell down, blocking the entrance to the village, forever.

     Realizing only now what he had done, the poor boy fell to his knees and cried. The snake appeared once again, and rested its head against him as it hissed :

    “Unfortunate boy. It isssss because you loved your sister sssso much, and because she too loved you more than anything in the world, that you have lossssst her forever.”

     So, the little boy went back home alone, with an empty basket and an empty heart. And as he grew up into a tall strong man, he taught his children and his grandchildren to be generous, compassionate, merciful and gracious. 

     But also to always listen to their parents and their elder brothers and sisters. And to never ever wander close to the dark forest. Or else the evil Enchantress will eat them.

     And in the Village of Shadows their soul will forever remain.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

[farzanatrading]

Choose Farzana Herbs Online Sharjah that provide a variety of health advantages have been abundantly offered by nature. popular herbs, including basil, which has immune-boosting characteristics, turmeric, which has anti-inflammatory benefits, peppermint, which has digestive-soothing properties, and lavender, which has calming features, can all significantly improve your general health and well-being.

[linnorabeifong]

Some Adorable Linzin

This work still needs some major editing and I have a love-hate relationship with it. Might delete parts, can't decide whether or not to write part two.

"Heels"

Tenzin always felt something for Lin. From the moment she was born he was infatuated with her. She was his favorite playmate, his first friend. Even as a toddler he would follow after her as she clumsily stumbled and wobbled about the island.

She was his closest friend when he was a boy. He would find her up a tree after one of her frequent arguments with Su and use his airbending to propel himself up onto the limb next to her. She would shoot him a jealous glare that would soften when he produced mangoes from the pockets of his robes. Every time she would smile and thank him, “My favorite ! You remembered.” she would squeal excitedly before biting into the fruit and letting the juices dribble down her chin. They would spend hours up in their own little world above everyone laughing and holding hands.

She returned the favor, arriving at the island with pastries she had made herself. Offering him the pineapple buns. The golden patterned crust is crispy and covered in crunchy sugar crystals; the bun underneath is soft. He asks her where she learned to bake like this, and she tells him all about a book of recipes she found at the library. He loves the way she speaks with her hands, so animated and excited. He bites into another bun. Them being made by her hands make them infinitely sweeter. She begins bringing them more regularly and they quickly become a favorite breakfast, buttered up and unceremoniously dunked into mugs of milk tea.

His heartbeat fluttered as they sparred. He could see her muscles tense as she created a wall of earth and pushed it towards him, hoping to break his concentration. He sidesteps easily, and uses his airbending to try and sweep her feet from underneath her. Her horse stance is too stable for him to succeed. “That old trick twinkletoes ?” she says. She knocks him over with a clod of earth to the shin. “Stop making this so easy for me” she groans. He smiles, she is right where he wants her. If his bending won’t work he’ll win this match the old fashioned way. He grabs at both of her ankles and pulls her down with him. They roll about on the ground until finally she claims victory. She gets up and parts her lips, showing him her teeth. He stands and shakes her hand “Good match” he says, “likewise airhead” she says pressing her hand against the new tattoo on his forehead before grabbing her things.

Citrus season comes and Tenzin climbs the trees around the island. Using his airbending to reach the very tops where the largest juiciest fruits await him. He spends hours filling baskets, then makes his way to her apartment, knocking politely before bestowing his gift upon her. She grins at him and bows her head as she accepts it. Something about the way her lips purse as she enjoys the sour fruit makes his heart race. The way she hums her satisfaction, before handing him the other half of her snack made him desperate for air. The way she makes eye contact with him as she sucks a grapefruit dry. Tilting her head, glancing at him curiously through her heavy lashes, when he explains that they are too bitter for his liking. It all enchants him.

She reciprocates, bringing him to Narook’s for some noodles with a few of her friends. Two chatty girls greet him politely, and a stocky boy eagerly shakes his hand. Then a stranger nods at him and steals his seat right next to Lin.

Apparently he is her boyfriend, some shifty fire bender who never took his hands off her. Draping an arm over her delicate shoulders, a hand holding hers, fingers reaching underneath the table for her shapely calves or shockingly a palm resting on her thigh. Blatant. Suggestive even. Some would say possessive. Tenzin is red with rage, who does this man think he is ? Just touching Lin Beifong like that. Casually. In public. Does he have no concern for her reputation ?

She giggles. Lin Beifong giggles. A sound he hasn’t heard in years. The boy looks at him grinning before he wraps his arms around her waist. She bats at his hands playfully before returning to the story she was telling. Tenzin makes eye contact with the bastard again. In spite of his vow of pacifism, he wants to connect his knuckles with the cad’s jaw.

“Got a problem ?” the boyfriend growls at him. “Kenny be nice,” Lin says, placing her hand gently on his arm. Then she takes her other hand and places it on his jaw. The jaw Tenzin wanted to break. She rubs her thumb across his stubble, then boops his nose with her pointer finger and laughs. A delicate, feminine sound. A sound that scoundrel doesn’t deserve to hear. She leans into him, pressing her chest against his “Remember what I said earlier,” she says softly before whispering in his ear. She is not loud enough for anyone at another table to hear her but unfortunately not quiet enough for Tenzin to miss what she said: “Bad boys don’t get dessert”. Tenzin thinks he is growing to be sick all over the table after hearing those words from her lips. Those indecent words directed at such a filthy lowlife.

One uncomfortable hour later the meal is finally over, thank the spirits. On their way out she grabs him by the wrist and takes him aside, “Sorry about Ken being an ass earlier, he’s just jealous because he thinks you have a crush on me. Silly, right ?”

It was silly, right ? He most certainly does not have a crush on her. That is a ridiculous notion.

A few months later the boy dumps her.

Over summer Lin joins the police academy, hoping to follow in her mother’s footsteps.

One day he bumps into her. Lin is walking to the university for a guest lecture and Tenzin just so happens to be attending the same one. He walks behind her. Noticing the way she swung her hips and swayed as she walked. She is graceful in a peculiar way. Short strides, quick steps, she looks like she is floating. He had never noticed it before but now her walk is accentuated by the little heels she is wearing. Her well turned ankles are on full display. His throat runs dry.

He catches up to her and they talk on the way to class. During the lecture he is distracted. Instead of listening to the difference between Malum Prohibitum and Malum in se he is admiring the way her pencil skirt clung tightly to her curves. The way the pink blouse she is wearing is exposing her long lovely neck and sharp collarbones.

Her soft hands brush against his when she reaches for a pen. She begins quickly jotting down notes. He reaches out for her free hand, intertwining his fingers with her delicate slender ones. She smiles at him. He looks at her hand in his. They fit together perfectly.

Bumi visits the city while he is on leave for a few days and drags him to a fire-nation bar. While Bumi is ordering his second whiskey Tenzin notices her drinking with the other recruits. She is obviously drunk. Laughing too loud at the jokes, nearly falling out of her seat. Some man Tenzin recognized reaches out a hand to keep her from falling off the stool. He returns to his conversation with Bumi. He turns his head when he hears whooping and cheering. The men had convinced her to go out on the dance floor. A slow song was playing. Lin was performing a fire nation dance. Her steps are careful and slow. She shakes her hips suggestively. The other recruits begin whistling. She shakes her head at them before resuming her dance. She quickly spins. Then she holds her arms up over her head and begins moving her hips in a circle. She speeds up and gets lower and lower. Tenzin is convinced that she is the only woman outside of Ember Island that can move like that, so smooth, so fluid. The entire bar is watching and cheering. Tenzin is entranced. She has slowed the motion down, holding her position for a few moments before the music speeds up again. She gets up and finishes her dance.

“Oh you’ve got it bad for Beifong” Bumi teases him. “I don’t” Tenzin insists “Tenzin you’ve been staring the entire time we’ve been here” Bumi counters. Tenzin flushes. Had he really been that obvious ? “Go on, go ask her to dance,” “I’m not a good dancer” “She’s good enough for both of you”

Bumi pushes him towards the dance floor despite his protests.

“That was amazing,” he says. “Would’ve been better if I had my fans,” she responds.

Lin smiles at him. “Dance with me ?” he asks hesitantly. She nods. He places his hands on her waist, she shakes her head before taking them and placing them on her hips “this is how they do it on Ember Island,” she explains. The dance starts slow and awkward. Lin steps on his toes multiple times, she really is drunk. Eventually Tenzin remembers the dance he learned on vacation long ago. He doesn’t remember it being done with the partners so close. He won’t complain about her warm body being pressed against his though. Her face is buried in the crook of his neck. She is tired. They fall into a rhythm. Swaying together against the music. Chest to chest. He spins her a few times. Then as the end of the song approaches he dips her. He can hear the gasp leave her lips. He holds her in that leaned back position for a moment.

“If you drop me Twinkle Toes…” she threatens. “I won't,” he promises.

He pulls her back up against him. She stumbles and he quickly catches her.

“See, I would never let you fall,” “Promise ?” “Promise”

It is getting late and the bar is closing now. Everyone is heading home. Lin is stumbling, her heels do little to help her. Her shoe is caught on the uneven asphalt, her ankle twists unnaturally. She hisses in pain. Tenzin catches her again. She heads over to a bench, sits and reaches down to take off her shoes.

“Allow me,” Tenzin says, removing the heels. Holding them by the straps with one hand. Tenzin then scoops her up bridal style.

“Tenzin what on Kyoshi’s earth are you doing ?” “Carrying you home,” “I can walk” “Barefoot ?” “Yes” she says like it is the most obvious thing on the earth. “You could step on broken glass” “I won’t, I’ve walked around the city barefoot my whole life” “Why do you do that ?” he asks. He genuinely wants to know. It’s a peculiar habit and a dangerous one with how dirty the streets are. “It makes me feel grounded. I'm closer to the earth. I can hear it better, and I can’t use my seismic sense with shoes on” she explains.

He realizes now how vulnerable she is in his arms. Up in the air, away from her own element. If he falls she can’t catch herself. She can’t feel her surroundings, or the vibrations of the ground. Can’t sense his heartbeat or anyone approaching. She is stripped of one of her senses. Vulnerable. Yet she trusts him because if she really wanted down she would be.

She curls up against him, he can feel her heartbeat. Fast, nervous. ‘Is this what seismic sense is like?’ he wonders. He readjusts her in his arms and begins walking. She shivers. She isn’t dressed for the nippy autumn weather at all, he wishes he had a jacket he could toss over her.

Lucky for him he doesn’t have to carry her very far, she lives in the area. Getting her to her apartment building is an easy task… getting her into her apartment not so much. He has to carry her up two flights of stairs.

“Tenzin, you can put me down now” “Nonsense” “Tenzin, I’m heavy” “No, you’re not” he says, panting despite being only halfway there.

Eventually, they reach her apartment. Tenzin still won’t let her down. She sighs, and gives him her key. He manages to unlock the door and push it open with his foot without dropping her or her shoes.

Toph is sitting on the sofa waiting for them. “So, you finally brought someone home. I was beginning to wonder when you’d get over that boy” “Mom,” Lin says incredulously. “It’s not like that, Miss.Beifong, she injured her ankle,” Tenzin quickly explains. “Call me chief or Toph, airhead” she says before her lips curl into a devilish grin. “You and twinkle toes, huh ?” she inquired. “We’re not together, mom,” Lin insists. “Uh-huh. Have fun, use protection and be quiet, your sister is sleeping,” “Mom !” Toph just laughs and heads off to her room.

Tenzin lays Lin down on the sofa, and places her shoes at the door. Grabbing ice from the fridge he notices her attempting to get up. He stops her with a glare before looking over her ankle and placing the ice on it. It’s beginning to swell. She grits her teeth. “I’m no healer, but I think it’s sprained,” he says as he takes her foot in his hand and rotates her ankle, trying to see the range of motion. She grunts. He heads into her bathroom and fetches some bandages from the medicine cabinet. He removes the ice and tightly wraps her ankle. He can hear his mothers words in his head, guiding him through it, ‘compression should lessen the swelling’. Who knew that all the time spent watching his mother at work would come in handy ?

Lin looks anxious. “You should probably go see my mom in the morning and take it easy for a few weeks,” he explains. “What ? I can’t. I have my fitness test next week” he shakes his head at her. “Take it easy, doctor’s orders”. “Thank you, Tenny,” she says after a long pause. She hadn’t called him that in a long time. Not since they were little.

“You’re welcome,” he responds as he places the bag of ice in the fridge and heads for the door. “Tenzin, what’re you doing ? It's midnight there are no ferries,” She was right of course, and he hadn’t brought his glider. “Why don’t you stay the night ? We can have a sleepover like when we were kids” she continues. Toph was already making insinuations, he can’t imagine what she’ll say if he stays the night, but he has no choice. “Alright, thank you Linny,” he responds.

With that matter settled Lin heads to the restroom to get ready for bed. Tenzin follows suit after she is done. He is just about to fall asleep on her sofa when he hears her calling for him.

He opens the bedroom door to find her in her pajamas underneath a mountain of blankets. “Tenzin, do you mind lying with me ? I can’t sleep,” She says. She stares at him, waiting for an answer, worrying her lip with her teeth. She never did like to sleep alone. Tenzin remembers how whenever she had to stay on the island as a kid how she would always sneak into Kya’s bed. Every time his parents would find them snuggled up side by side.

“Why not ?”

“I’m cold and it’s too quiet,” she whispers. He wonders how anyone could be that cold in thick flannel pajamas and underneath four blankets but seeing those green eyes staring at him, he can’t help but give in. He climbs into bed. He is much too hot with his robes. He stands up. Lin reading his mind again, averts her gaze. He removes the heavy robes leaving him in only his undershirt and pants. He is fully covered but he feels naked. He settles in, careful to maintain a distance between them.

“Thank you,” “Goodnight”

He wakes up to her head on his chest and her legs intertwined with his. He can hear her breathing. See her chest rise and fall. She looks so…peaceful. He wishes he could see that expression on her face more. A soft smile, closed eyes. He does not want to hear what Toph will say. He sits, enjoying her warm weight just a little longer before he has to return to his responsibilities. After a few moments he gets up and throws his robes back on, carefully creaks open the door and closes it behind him. He uses his airbending to walk down the hallway silently.

He is nearly there. He trips on something as he reaches the door. He falls loudly. He looks down. Those damn heels. He hears footsteps. Shit. He woke her.

He looks up expecting to see a grumpy Lin, instead Toph Beifong approaches him, “Good morning to you too loverboy, looks like somebody slept well,”.

He was never going to hear the end of this.

[giftdubaionline]

Ramadan 2023 Iftar Snacks and Gifts - Food Ideas

Ramadan Gift Ideas

Iftar evenings are always Special in this holy month of Ramadan, Ramadan Gifts 2023 falls from Mar 21 to Apr 20. This is the month of intense Prayers and Fasting, These reflect the Love, Grace & Nobility of the People. Iftar is an auspicious occasion for Muslims all around the world, where everyone gets up before sunrise for a meal and fasts until sunset. Family and Friends come together to breakfast with an iftar meal. Let’s see the Best Crunchy, Tasty, and Healthy Ramadan Food and Ramadan food Ideas in UAE Get the Best Heartly Satisfying Iftar Food and Ramadan treats from GDO.

Ramadan Fruit Basket Delivery

Iftar Feast cannot be completed without Fruit Baskets. If you are looking to go with a fun and healthy diet and also planning it during a Grand Celebration like Ramadan Month, Tasting the Premium Fruit Basket is the Right Choice for you this Iftar Eve. With GDO get the Best Ramadan Fruit basket in town that fits your budget and share Love and good health with your dear one this Ramadan month.

Iftar Dry Fruits and Nuts

The Traditional way of rejoicing in Iftar is to get the Best Mixed Dry Fruit and Ramadan Dates Gift Basket, especially during this Ramadan month. Get the Best Enriched Dry fruit basket for your dear ones this Ramadan. Get a chance to taste the Best Crunchy almonds, Cashews, and pistachios that will relish your taste buds.

Ramadan Cakes Online

In this Ramadan festival Cakes are decorated with a variety of Ramadan themes to bring the Ramadan spirit into your homes. Get the Best Ramadan cakes at the Best prices. You can gift them to your family and friends and brighten their happy faces with smiles and love. Get Ramadan Cakes Instant Delivery to your Doorsteps today https://www.giftdubaionline.com/gift-delivery-by-occasions/ramadan-gifts

Best Ramadan Chocolates

Get the Best Ramadan Chocolates Gifts in Town, With GDO get a 15% Flat offer on all your delicious chocolates. Share your Sweetness and Love with your friends and Family. With GDO you can get the Best Ramadan Chocolates in UAE delivered to your doorsteps. Celebrate this Iftar with the best GDO chocolates.

Ramadan Sweets and Cookies in UAE

Arabic Sweets Online and Cookies are all part of the tradition. Savour through your favorite treats and cookies and get them instantly delivered to your Door. Celebrate this Ramadan with Fresh and yummy Handmade Ramadan sweets and delicious Ramadan Chocolates.