#i feel extremely ethereal listening to this one

[swordgrace]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍.

⠀ཾ༵ 𑁍┆ cregan stark x fem!targtower!reader.

SYNOPSIS: a blissful marriage to an honorable man — it is more than you could’ve asked for. with the heir on the way, you make a request of your husband.

anonymous request. unofficial sequel to wolfsblood, dragonsblood.

{ FORMAT: one-shot — requested by anonymous.

{ WORD COUNT: 6.1K.

{ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), overprotective cregan, reader is pretty horny for cregan (valid), pregnancy, reader is pregnant, sexual activities while pregnant, cregan is a father in his mind, oral sex (fem!rec), cunnilingus, cregan loves munching, vaginal fingering, teasing, biting, hair-pulling kink, obvious size difference + size kink, slight face-riding, lots of cregan admiring in this one-shot, very soft ending + aftercare

{ AUTHOR’S NOTE: I love writing for Cregan so much, y’all don’t understand the depths of my adoration for him. I churned this out pretty quickly, but I loved writing it, Father Cregan is the best! I hope that you all enjoy, & thank you for your support! ❤️

𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐩, 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐜𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬.

It was easier to breathe, you’d realized — King’s Landing had always been so stifling and pungent, the population too thick, the air acrid. Here, in the North, it was sprawling with open spaces, regions of untouched forest and unsettled countryside.

The bite of the harsh, Northern chill was not an easy adjustment to make after a lengthy life spent in Southern regions — the gnawing wind often seared your extremities, and it was not any easier on Silverwing. Fire ran through your veins, tempered by your tender heart and kindly disposition.

Your beloved husband would not have it any other way.

What had started as an unsteady, tumultuous betrothal marked by obvious bitterness from your family and wariness from his own House, had blossomed into a fruitful union. You couldn’t have asked for a better partner, and it made you realize how fortunate you were.

Snow was uncommon in most of the South, yet it remained constant in the North, mountains blanketed in endless horizons of white. It was a particularly icy day, winter winds stinging your cheeks, prickling your flesh with its pinpricks.

Mounds of pale, grayish fur swaddled your form, lined in the finest fleece, downy and plush against your skin. The trodden path to the Godswood was marked by frozen dirt, dusted over with a fresh layer of snowfall. Sprinkles of crystalline drops fell from the cloudy skies, and your breath emerged in hot wisps of air.

Lilac hues drifted toward the mountainous form of your husband, whose back was turned to you, swathed in the dappled pelt of a direwolf. Ice hung from his shoulder, a massive longsword of Valyrian Steel, an heirloom passed down through generations of House Stark.

Someday soon, it will pass to your firstborn son.

You recalled the night that you were wed, beneath the crimson leaves of the Weirwood Tree. It was serene, a moonlit dusk that struck the snow with an ethereal glow, your hands bound as you recanted your vows. It had been some moons now since that day, and you had only felt joy since then.

Cregan listened to the light crunch of snow beneath your footfalls as they reverberated throughout the Godswood, the pond frozen-over with a layer of ice. Pale bark marked with a foreign face peered back at him — this was a place that he and Rickon visited many times.

Before his little brother had passed, they pretended to fight wars here, forge their weapons, sticks found from the forest floor, and envision themselves as Knights. He could still feel his brother sometimes, his presence a whisper in the blood-red leaves, somewhere within the forest’s song.

Religion was a complicated thing for you. Your mother wielded the Faith of the Seven like a crudely-worn shortsword, letting it strike to her advantage even when it was rusty, at best. You had little interest in it, and Cregan seemed to respect your growing distance from your old roots. The Old Gods were his — you had nothing.

Inklings of snow drifted from the pale skies, growing darker as evening approached. The North became unyieldingly harsh after the sun began to wane, the sting of biting wind swirling around you, seeping into your bones. You were rather cold, but persisted for Cregan.

“Ser Rodrick said that I might find you here,” Silence dissipated, filled with the sound of your voice, as soft as feathers, a soothing balm. You stepped closer, beneath the boughs of the great tree, the canopy thick with vermillion leaves. “How are you faring?”

With Winter approaching, spreading its cold, brittle tendrils across the North, Cregan’s duties had increased tenfold. Preparing his people for winter, ensuring that food was plentiful, that they were safe — it was the burden of leadership, but there was no one better suited for it in your eyes.

“Well enough,” Cregan murmured, storm-colored hues drifting over the Weirwood tree before they turned to you, completely and utterly transfixed. You stole every wisp of air from his lungs with your beauty, clad in the trappings of his people. “I apologize for running off.”

An amiable smile crossed your features as you reached for your husband, slipping a gloved palm against the crook of his arm. “You needn’t apologize, husband. You are owed your solitude, and I wouldn’t dare tell you otherwise.” You have his bicep a gentle squeeze.

Cregan’s gaze softened, sparkling with a warmth reserved only for you, his beloved. Your presence always seemed to melt away his hardened exterior, but he much preferred it that way. He stepped closer, towering above you in all of his indomitable glory, craning down to press a kiss against your brow.

The gloved leather of his hand moved to cup your abdomen, and the growing life within. The joyous news of your pregnancy had been the talk of the North, the new Lady Stark, preparing to birth an heir of Winterfell. Those thick furs you wore obscured your belly quite well.

“I should be asking you how you fare, carrying our child,” Cregan insisted, gingerly caressing around your stomach with the pride of a doting husband. “Here you are, walking all this way to the Godswood, when it is I who should be by your side.” If there was one word to describe Cregan, it was overprotective.

Gods, he was attentive — if he did leave your side, he ensured that you were well looked-after, under the watchful protection of his guardsmen. You couldn’t fault your husband for his safeguarding nature, given that it was to be your firstborn.

Sometimes he forgot that you were a dragon-rider.

“Being beneath the open sky has done me a world of good, husband,” You mused, canting your head to one side. You were not completely round and waddling just yet — halfway through, as the Maester stated. “I cannot stand to look at that dreadful cobblestone for days on-end.”

Cregan did not protest, nor invalidate your claims. He was not the one carrying a child — he did not have a right to speak on behalf of you. A shiver rolled down your spine, due to the bitter chill of the wind, coupled with the encroaching snowfall.

Instead, he reached for your jaw, cupping your face within the roughened texture of his leather-clad palm, presenting you with a kiss. It was kept brief, yet the ardor lingered, as strong as a burning flame. “You are shivering, beloved. Let us return to the Keep.” He rumbled, shielding you beneath his cloak.

A respite from the cold would be welcome. Even if you possessed the blood of the Dragon, you did not fare well in such blisteringly glacial conditions. The thick cover of your husband’s cloak brought a sense of comfort, coupled with the natural heat that radiated from him.

Snow crunched beneath his heavy footfalls, your own masked by his boots. Cregan made sure to guide you every step of the way, hovering with his impressive shadow. “I have been contemplating a name for our child.” You spoke softly, a smile toying upon your lips.

“Have you?” Cregan appeared appeased, a stoic smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You don’t know if we are to have a son or a daughter.” He remarked, letting your hand wrap around the bulk of his forearm, guiding you through the Godswood.

“Perhaps not, but I wanted you to hear,” Such ideas had been stirring around within your mind for weeks, and with Cregan so preoccupied, you hadn’t broached the topic of conversation. “Gilliane, after your mother, should we have a daughter, and … Rickon.” You hesitated. “Should we have a son.”

Cregan’s steps began to slow, and he looked upon you with such love and devotion that it was nearly overwhelming. He couldn’t have loved you anymore if he tried — and he had tried. Towering over you, he pressed a kiss against the top of your head, one that blossomed with fondness.

You gave him the greatest honor of all — that of fatherhood, and now, you had bestowed upon him sentimental names, those of his family. Love flourished within his storm-colored hues, and he seemed to soften at your words. “You would honor me beyond words, wife. Do you not wish to pay tribute to your own family?”

Placing a hand over the growing swell of your stomach, you seemed somewhat indifferent to talk of your family. Helaena and Daeron were the exceptions in this, but it did not pain you any less. “I pay tribute by carrying our child,” You replied, your smile threadbare. “That is enough.”

Solemn, Cregan simply nodded, understanding your strained relationship with the family you had left behind in King’s Landing. From what you told him and from what he discerned, you seemed much happier here, liberated and free of such poisonous clutches. “Of course.” A soft rumble reverberated throughout his chest.

Winterfell’s snow-laden gates were now within reach, as guards in Stark tabards harkened the return of its Lord and Lady. He thoroughly enjoyed watching you interact with the denizens underneath his protection — you often greeted them with smiles and laughter.

He watched you grow into your station as Lady Stark, a growth that showed such promise. You had been shy around Northerners at first, but you now walked as if you had been in Winterfell your whole life. Cregan kept you close, his stance that of a protective husband, hovering above you with his hulking stature.

The Keep was close, and you could feel the crackling warmth of the hearth lick across your skin in the forefront of your mind. Cregan was characteristically stalwart, keeping you wedged against his side, swaddled in the thick furs of the direwolf.

Once inside, you welcomed the gust of warmer air. The Keep burned many fires and braziers when winter became sharp and bitter, your cheeks stinging from the cold. “Shall we retire this evening, or are you lacking in nourishment?” Cregan inquired, knowing that your penchant for foodstuffs had increased while pregnant.

“Could something be brought to our chambers? Perhaps a stew or a broth, that sounds rather warming.” As if on-queue, your stomach lurched with inklings of famish, as if your child also demanded something to eat.

“It will be done,” With his stoic assurance, your husband bent down to press a kiss against your temple, smoothing a palm across your back. “I will join you shortly, wife.” Cregan had a tendency to walk the Keep before retiring — spare a word to the guards, those in the kitchens, and anyone underneath his care.

“Do not keep me waiting for too long.” You mused, lips curving into a warm smile that could melt even the hardiest of ice — including that of your husband. The vulnerability that seemed to come to him in your presence was a comforting thing.

With a soft huff, Cregan cupped your chin, looking upon you with tempestuous hues, as gray as a winter’s storm. “I wouldn’t dare.” He assured, presenting you with a tender kiss. Gods, you had sorely missed his mouth in many ways, and you were swift to reciprocate.

After you had become with-child, fuller and round with the heir to Winterfell, you had not engaged Cregan as much in terms of intimacy. He wanted you to relax, to not have to lift a finger. You missed your husband in more ways than one, giving way to your own basic desires and carnal instincts.

The kiss possessed a charged edge, tension looming above, the fringes of it seeping into your lips. You held onto his forearm, an audible sigh slipping past your mouth when Cregan withdrew. He could detect your yearning — the sentiment was a mutual one, but he feared hurting you, as any man would.

With a gentle hum, you allowed your husband to leave you, watching as his impressive form encapsulated all space within the corridor he walked in. You let him tend to his duties, and you made for the spiraling stairwell, making your way to your chambers without a hitch.

Thick, wooden doors gave way to the sanctuary within, the hearth being stoked and tended-to by one of the servants. “I thought you might want it warm, m’lady.” She mused, having laid out a series of new wardrobes for you across the foot of your bed.

“Thank you, Tanea.” The new gowns and dresses seemed to be made with your new specifications in-mind, accommodating for your growing belly. Part of you felt self-conscious when it came to your pregnancy — you no longer seemed to fit into your own skin.

“You must be excited, with the babe on the way,” Tanea was easy to speak with, an exuberant young woman with cherubic features. “Your Lord-Husband certainly is.” She chimed, finishing with the hearth as she moved about.

“Is he?” Cregan was sometimes difficult to read, countenance permanently etched with that stoic Northern scowl of his, but you knew how happy he was. Knowing that your servants could see it filled you with delight. “I may need your assistance, Tanea.”

“Very much so, m’lady. He speaks as if he is a father already,” She fluttered to your side, assisting you in relinquishing the weight of your fur cloak and overcoat you wore. Tanea arranged the garments back into the large, wooden wardrobe. “Do you need anything else?”

“I do not,” You smiled, moving to sit atop the fur-laden footlocker at the end of your shared bed. “You have my gratitude, Tanea.” The girl curtsied, a proper gesture, before making her way from your chambers.

Intrigued, you happened to admire the new gowns strewn across your bed, many of them styled in the Northern way of dress, save for your evening shifts. One in particular caught your eye, made of sage-hued silk, translucent and frilly, the sleeves billowing.

Pinching the fabric between your fingers, you decided on wearing it to bed, pushing yourself up right as you organized the rest elsewhere, into the space of your wardrobe. Heavy footfalls resonated outside of your door, with it creaking open to give way to Cregan.

Your mountain of a husband carried two bowls of steaming stew, placing them down along the small, rounded table. The intricate carving of a wolf rested along the table’s edge, made of wood from the Wolfswood. “Are you tired?” He inquired, removing Ice from his shoulders, scabbard and all, placing it near his bedside.

After you had become with-child, he kept it close, in case of any unsightly, dire circumstances. He would not ever allow himself to be defenseless in your presence. You had thought it to be somewhat overly cautious, but you did not dissuade him otherwise.

“Not really,” You hummed, reaching for the many pins keeping your braids in-place. You removed them one by one, placing the ruby-studded needles upon your vanity. It felt better to let your hair down, pale tresses cascading across your shoulders in soft waves. “I am perfectly awake.”

Cregan’s visage was one of clear appreciation and adoration as he stepped closer, admiring the way you looked. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” He insisted, hands moving to assist you in unlacing your dress. This was a common practice with each passing night — you enjoyed it.

Warmth crept along your features as you stood still, allowing him to untie your bodice with his calloused fingers, until the garment loosened. “You are much too kind, husband.” Stepping from your gown, you were left in a white slip, one that had grown somewhat uncomfortable with its tightness.

“It is not a kindness, but the plain truth.” Cregan replied, pressing a kiss against the pale crown of your head, inhaling a gust of your saccharine scent. “You are my beautiful wife.” He affirmed with a grunt, and moved away to change into his own smallclothes. Abandoning his leather and armor always felt unusual for him.

There was no debating your husband, whose stubbornness was sometimes renowned. Instead, you smiled, abandoning the snug, ivory fabric for your field of sage, hastily pulling it on over the swell of your stomach.

It gave you ample time to observe Cregan, whose musculature ensnared you time and time again. He was impressively thick, broad-shouldered and built like the Wall itself. Seeing him standing there in just his trousers made something hot stir between your legs.

You crept forward, shamelessly wrapping your arms around him from behind, and you could feel a tremor throughout his body when he huffed. “I have a handsome husband, a perfect husband — and that is the plain truth.” You hummed, cold cheek burying itself against the warmth of his skin.

Wordlessly, you peppered soft kisses against his spine, and to any scars and bruises that you could see. You listened to the sharp exhale from your husband, who did not protest your actions. Your lips felt like the kiss of snow, still cold from the chilly outdoors.

Cregan let you stay that way, and in-truth, he enjoyed it thoroughly. Those large, calloused hands placed themselves atop yours, lifting both to his lips as he kissed your knuckles. He let them drop, and you caressed him wherever you could. The gesture was soft, but he couldn’t deny the growing sensuality present between you both.

“For the blood of the dragon, your hands run cold, wife.” Cregan rumbled, soothingly tracing his fingers across your wrist, feeling your physique against his back, including the swell of your belly. You pressed your palms against his abdomen, able to feel the taut, subtle muscle there.

“It is a good thing that I have you to warm them,” The silky, soft resonance of your voice brought him comfort. You sounded so relaxed and blissful, feeling him sluggishly turn around within your hold. Cregan cupped your cheek, rough pad of his thumb tracing across your lips. You kissed his thumb. “Kiss me.”

Cregan’s lips twitched into the ghost of a smile, and he instead gestured to the meal he’d brought with him. “Once you eat and have proper sustenance, I might indulge you then, beloved.” He mused, noticing the twinge of disappointment on your face.

“Might?” There was an upward inflection within your tone, as if the mere suggestion of might had offended you to some degree. Your burly husband then caged you within his embrace, palms soothingly caressing along your hips. “Must you insist on tormenting me?” You teased.

With a low grunt, Cregan reached for his tunic, eyes twinkling with mirth. “For now.” Tugging on the dark blue linen of his nightshirt, he gestured for you to eat, sitting beside you at the table. His own chair groaned in protest, and before he knew it, you were devouring your stew.

A mouthful of warm, seasoned broth filled your maw, accompanied with hearty chunks of venison and stewed vegetables. The cuisine in the North differed greatly from the South, not that you minded. You often felt more fulfilled after meals than you used to.

“Gods, that was wonderful,” You groaned, the stew satisfying your cravings. It warmed you to the bone, causing a shudder to roll down your spine as you finished, nudging the bowl aside. “I could eat several servings of that.” Your confession prompted Cregan to smirk.

“Famished, were you?” Cregan mused, watching as you moved out of your chair, cradling your stomach with one hand. He very nearly rushed to assist you, but he knew you would’ve swatted him aside.

“Quite, but I am eating for two. Your child needs it as much as I do,” You remarked, wandering toward the hearth as you extended one palm toward the fire. The comforting heat licked across your flesh, the orange light dancing over your features. “Much better.”

Cregan joined you not long after, guiding you to sit atop the large footlocker at the end of your marital bed, closest to the open flames. His rough fingertips glided over the plane of sage-hued silks, as he admired your womanly form through the fabric. “This suits you.” He rumbled, gently tugging on the silk to accentuate his point.

“Tanea had the seamstress craft me new clothing, given that I’ve grown quite a bit,” Admittedly, you felt some insecurity in your current state, afraid that your husband may not enjoy you as he once had. “I am glad that you like it, husband. I was worried that you wouldn’t.”

Perplexed, chestnut brows furrowed together, his countenance one of clear concern. Slipping an arm behind you, he calmly stroked your side, silently beseeching you to tell him of your worries. He knew what it pertained to, even if it was left unspoken. “Your worries are misplaced. I love you.” He assured.

“It isn’t just that, I — I suppose I feared that you wouldn’t still enjoy me this way. Most husbands in the capital seemed so disinterested when their wives began to show.” This wasn’t the South, and Cregan was as far from a disinterested husband as one could get. He kissed your jaw, letting you rest against him.

“You are carrying our child, the heir to Winterfell — I would continue to love you regardless of what your body might look like. Damn the Southerners,” Cregan murmured, planting a hand atop your belly. “I look at you and I see my wife — I see perfection. My heart calls your name.” For a man so rugged and rough, his words made your blood surge with exhilaration.

Joining his hand, you placed your palm atop his, the one firmly perched against your belly. If Cregan were being truthful with himself, he found you to be painfully beautiful like this, swollen with his child, knowing that he put a pup in you. Those lascivious fantasies had now become reality.

“Ñuha dōna zokla,” My sweet wolf — your High Valyrian often brought him to heel, bringing out the siren’s lull within your voice. Cregan had made a valiant effort to learn some of the language for you, but it never sounded as pleasant on his Northern tongue. “I am yours.” You beamed, lilac hues glistening with ardor.

Bringing a calloused palm to your face, he traced the fine plane of your cheekbone, reveling in the velveteen texture of your flesh. A wolf, brought to heel at his dragon’s side. Cregan studied your Valyrian features, basking in your beauty, coaxing you in for a kiss.

Your mouth was disarmingly soft, catching him off-guard, stealing away all of his coherency. He felt you turn inward, palm planting itself against the thick, corded muscle of his thigh, gripping him tightly as he deepened your kiss.

Something warm stirred within him, a longing to feel your body against his, able to detect the hitch within your breath as he drew you closer. Your wanton need radiated from you in thick, permeating waves, enough to bring him into the intricate web of your desire.

“Easy, wife.” Cregan rumbled, wanting to temper your carnality before it raged into that of a dragon’s flame. Your pleading gaze suggested otherwise, prompting him to caress along the length of your spine. “I do not wish to hurt you.”

A begrudging sigh escaped your lips as you incessantly tugged at his tunic, staring at your husband with furrowed brows. “You wouldn’t,” You uttered, tracing your fingers over his heart. “We do not have to commit the entire act. I simply want to enjoy you in other ways — I miss it.”

Subtlety wasn’t your strongest suit, and Cregan knew this. Arousal stirred within him, cock twitching at your lascivious insinuations. “Hm,” A soft growl left him, one that seemed to share your sentiments. “Is that what my lady commands of me?” He murmured, holding you close.

“She does,” You hummed, treating him to a playful smile as you reached for his chestnut tresses. One of your hands slithered beneath his tunic, feeling along the solid, thick muscle of his abdomen. He stroked at your belly, a stern hum reverberating within his throat. “Gods, I need you.” You exhaled.

With your need laid bare, Cregan heeded you with a fire swirling within his gut. His hand dipped down to the apex of your thighs, pushing beneath your silken shift until he found your cunt. Gods, you were wet already, a tantalizing thing, one that he found delight in.

“You are warm already, beloved.” Cregan’s thunderous timbre raked down your spine, effortlessly gaining your subservience with ease. You shivered, feeling his thick fingers deftly caress across your slit, teasing and toying with you, gathering your slick.

Feather-light touches would have to suffice as Cregan lazily pressed one digit against your clit. His mouth found the slender expanse of your neck, delivering hot, passionate kisses against your throat.

A simpering whine tore past your parted lips, one filled with such urgency as you shifted closer, writhing against the sensation of his hand. Any lick of friction would do, consuming your body with its amatory heat. He grunted into the hollow of your throat, kissing you wherever you could.

Your own mouth found the impressive bulk of his shoulder, seeking to bring your teeth into his flesh. A sonorous, rumbling grunt left your husband when you bit him, leaving behind the crescent marks of your teeth. If it weren’t for your pregnancy, he would’ve marked you in this way, too.

Seeking the softness of your mouth, Cregan’s mouth twitched into a threadbare smirk as he kissed you hard, letting it linger as his hand withdrew from your skirts. A groan of disappointment left you, but he intended on making up for it fully.

He moved off of the footlocker, planting a lasting kiss against your brow. Towering over you, Cregan’s shadow eclipsed most flickers of firelight, gray hues swirling with warmth as he bent the knee to you, his beloved. It was a mesmerizing sight, one that you reveled in.

His massive musculature bullied its way between your thighs, warm palms shifting to caress along your legs, from ankle to calf. He had never seen someone as resplendent as you, breathtakingly beautiful, the blood of the dragon, his wife.

Gathering your skirts within your hands, you fisted the silks, dragging them up until they pooled around your hips. Warm lips embraced the crook of your knee, peppering kisses across your leg, until he reached the velvet flesh of your inner thighs.

Your hips began to tilt forward, seeking the pleasant heat of his mouth, a heat that he gladly granted you time and time again. Cregan kissed his way to the slick warmth between your legs, a thunderous exhale escaping him, chest vibrating with a grunt.

Cregan gingerly adjusted your position, letting your legs rest against his broad shoulders, your back sloped against the furs and footboard of your bed. He pressed a kiss against your mound, nose buried near your pelvis before he made his descent.

A warm lap of his tongue dragged itself over your core, like hot embers raking across your cunt. You sighed, blissfully succumbing to wanton desire, reaching for his crown of chestnut tresses, gripping at the back of his skull. “Cregan.” You whined, head rolling forward just a bit.

Pale waves framed your face, countenance contorted into an expression of sheer and utter bliss, brows furrowing together. Your husband happily found his solace between your legs, mouth pressing hot kisses across your cunt. His hand gripped at your haunch, the other trailing against your leg.

It was ambrosial, your taste; a finest stout, sweetest of nectars that stained his lips with your perfection. Cregan lapped at your cunt, dutiful and attentive, ensuring to find every spot that made you gasp for air.

Nimble digits fisted into the furs at your side, mouth agape as a myriad of throaty moans escaped you. Your hand roamed through his tresses, tugging and pulling whenever his tongue graced the pearl of your cunt.

Splitting past your folds, Cregan tasted every inch of you, tongue seeking your cunt with a fervor. He was vigorous in his ministrations, not shying away from consuming every drop of your arousal. His nose brushed against your mound, hands kneading into your thighs to reassure you, let you know that he had you.

Any inkling of roughness had dissipated from him in the wake of your pregnancy, replaced with a passionate devotion, a rapture reserved only for you. His strong hands held you close, caressing you wherever he could.

You tasted sweet upon his tongue, honey-thick and a feast to sate his appetite. If he would choose his fate, it would be in between your legs, listening to the myriad of moans and throaty whimpers leave you. It was satisfying to know how much you enjoyed this; derived pleasure from it.

A tremor gripped your legs, little spasms of delight making their way throughout your body. Cregan’s mouth forged a blazing path from the hood of your cunt to your entrance, tongue greedy and hot, before he went back up again, seeking your sensitive pearl.

“Cregan!” Gods, he brought you such pleasure, a pleasure that seemed to seep into your very bones, sate your endless yearning, for now. Your legs curled inward, tight atop his shoulders as you rocked yourself into his mouth, doing little to suppress the volume of your moans.

He pressed closer with a wolf’s appetite, throat burning with carnal hunger as he continued to lap at your slick cunt. Your arousal felt honey-thick upon his tongue, something reserved only for him, chin glistening with your nectar. Your legs squeezed at his head, and he knew that he pleasured you well.

Molten heat churned within the pit of your stomach, a sensation that you had been longing to feel again. Cregan did not relent, yet he happened to slow just enough to savor you, dragging his tongue toward that clutch of nerves at the hood of your cunt.

As soon as he pursed his lips around your clit, you nearly forgot your own name, thoughts completely derailed, scattered into a blissful abyss. Your body reacted with shivers and tremors, hand gripping at the nape of his neck with a reckless abandon.

Your back arched slightly, collarbone glittering with perspiration through the thick, warm haze of your chambers. The hearth had brought about a feverish heat, coupled with the throes of your intimate entanglement. Cregan derived satisfaction from your pleasure, delighted to please his wife.

Pliant flesh filled his palm as he cupped your derrière, bringing you closer, letting you grind yourself against his mouth, use him and take whatever you needed. A grunt stirred within his chest, reverberating within his throat as he went about seeking your clit, suckling on the pearl of your cunt.

“Oh Gods,” You moaned, nearly clasping a hand over your mouth to hide the salaciousness of your voice. Surely, the servants had heard you by now — you would be fortunate if all of Winterfell didn’t hear you. “I — I’m close!” Rocking forward again, you let out a whimper.

With a strangled whine, you desperately chased after your release, one that you had sorely needed. Cregan’s cock twitched at the sound of your delicious moans, a shudder rolling down his spine whenever you whimpered his name. “That’s it,” He rumbled, hot breath fanning over your core. “Go on.” His encouragement was softly spoken through his Northern timbre.

He wanted to stay there, rooted between your legs, mouth consuming your cunt as if it were his last meal; a man wrought with starvation.

Cregan favored it, thoroughly reveling in the way your body reacted to him, visceral and ecstatic. He gingerly suckled on your clit, feeling your fingers tighten within his chestnut locks, gripping him tight. He wanted you to have your release, built upon this pent-up feeling.

He could feel your encroaching release, feel the tension in your grasp, the way you let your hips continue to lurch forward. Without relenting, Cregan continued to suck at your clit, letting it intermingle with hot laps of his tongue, dutiful and fervent between your legs.

A comfortable silence filled the gap between you, intermingled with the sounds of your pleasured cries and Cregan’s sonorous grunts. That heated coil within your stomach began to unfurl, bringing an onslaught of arousal with it as you bucked into his mouth.

At last, your peak consumed you in a white-hot oblivion, and you very nearly saw the stars themselves. With a strangled gasp, your legs tightened on either side of his head, followed by a blissful rush of liquid heat. Your grip began to slack upon his tresses, chest heaving from exertion.

Cregan lingered there for a few moments more, tongue caressing your cunt, cleaning up any last drop of your nectar. His mouth glistened with it when he did inevitably withdraw, lashing across his lips before he kissed your thighs, showering you in affection.

“Do you feel better?” He mused, kissing the crook of your knee before standing to his feet. You were positively hot, feeling a feverish warmth crawl across your skin, thighs shaking in the aftermath. You hastily adjusted your slip, regarding him with a gracious expression.

“Very much,” Your confession made him smirk as he helped you into bed, abandoning his tunic at the iron-wrought foot. As he settled down, you joined him, curled within the space at his side. “Would you like me to return the favor?”

Cregan never expected you to do anything that you didn’t want to — never feel obligated, either. He would survive without a night of release. “Tomorrow, perhaps.” He murmured, moving to rest a hand against the swell of your stomach, caressing your growing bump.

“Thank you, husband — for everything.” A gentle hum left you as you placed your hand over his, allowing him to protectively cradle your stomach. You let your head rest against his shoulder, his arm holding you at his side.

A bemused huff escaped him as he peered at you with mirthful hues, gray eyes that resembled a thunderstorm. “You needn’t thank me,” He assured, briefly pressing a kiss to your temple. “You needn’t ask for it, either.” Cregan enjoyed the taste of your cunt more than anything else.

You couldn’t help but smile, sheepishly moving to press a kiss against his jaw. “I love you,” You sighed, letting your ardor for him be known as you felt your eyes grow heavy. “Tomorrow, I would like for us to see Silverwing. She grows lonely in my absence.”

Cregan knew how much the creature meant to you. He had met Silverwing before, but he dared not climb upon her back — you’d asked it of him several times before. “Of course, beloved.” He murmured, basking in the heat of the firelight.

A sharp, fluttering sensation blossomed throughout your abdomen, prompting you to gasp. It was sudden and unexpected, but not painful. It was foreign, and had been happening on rare occasions.

“What is it?” Cregan questioned, visibly concerned before you dismissed it with a bright, delighted smile. You gently guided his hand elsewhere atop your stomach, pale brows furrowing together as you searched for the source.

“There,” You mused, joyous laughter escaping you as another kick fluttered against your joined hands. “Do you feel it?” It was heartwarming to watch the happiness glisten within his eyes, the way in which he adjusted his position to truly feel. Cregan’s true smiles were a rarity, and you saw it now.

The blood of the wolf and the dragon stirred within, prompting you to smile appreciatively at your husband. This was something the both of you had made with your love, the heir to Winterfell. “They seem strong,” Cregan remarked, leaning over to plant a kiss against your brow. “Perfect, just like their mother.”

His hand never left your belly, even as he maneuvered the furs over the both of you, letting you move to lay against the warm expanse of his chest. Cregan exhaled, staring into the dying embers of the heart, tracing his digits along the swell of your stomach.

“Strong, just like their father.” You whispered, pressing a kiss against his jaw before you settled down for slumber, shielded by the protective grasp of your Lord-husband.

[okwonyo]

⟡ ONLY IF YOU SAY YES ── asking them for a kiss。

엔하이픈 ୨୧ female reader one thousand fluff established relationship ⎯⠀ kissing skinship ( other )

ˊᗜˋreblogs&feebacks !CLICK

HEESEUNG ｡｡ would be sitting next to you during a social meeting, his hand resting on your thigh as he sits close to you. would listen to his friends talking attentively, humming while they talk, rubbing his thumb on your skin.

you would find him so pretty, staring at his side profile, eyes dragging on his nose. you would tap his shoulder shyly, to make sure anyone but him can see it and draw attention to you.

would lean towards you, asking you silently what is wrong, “can y’give me a kiss?” you would ask shyly and he would coo.

an ethereal smile would grow on his face after, at the same time, a red shade would appear on yours — the longer he stares, the darker it gets. would give you the sweetest kiss ever, before whispering; “here ya go, baby”

JAY ｡｡ would be in the kitchen— which would first worry you when you wake up and feel his empty side beside you. getting up in a sense of hurry as if he might have gone away from you, your first instinct would be following the delicious scent emanating from the kitchen.

you will be welcomed by jay’s broad shoulders, a tea towel over his shoulders, muscles flexing as he cuts your fruits.

would hum when you wrap your arms around his perfect waist, pressing cheek against his back, rocking him side to side, “good morning, beautiful,” he would tell you, turning his head to you slightly.

“kiss me,” you would tell him without responding back, puckering your lips and he would kiss you instantly. and again, and again, and again.

JAKE｡｡ you would listen to your boyfriend rambling about something totally random. starting from the weather to how cereals are made, you would nod along to what he says. not because you are faking it, but because, weirdly, it genuinely tickles your interest.

a giggle would even escape your lips without you even thinking about it. and he would decide to take it personally, not because he is genuinely offended, but because he wants to be dramatic and can be.

“i’ll stop talking then if you make fun of me,” he would say, crossing his arms under his chest with a pout forming on his lips. god, he is trying to make you go crazy.

you would giggle even more, “no—” you would touch his arms and he would look away, “i just, wanted to kiss you.” this, would make him go crazy. then, he would be the one giggling on your lips.

SUNGHOON ｡｡ would be the one to want to kiss your first. it is not as if he would be discreet about it either — not as if he would at least try to be.

his gaze would linger on your face for a long while, watching you doing literally nothing with an immense attention, trying to get your attention to telepathic messages.

would bite his lower lips slightly when you put a hair strand behind your ear, revealing your beautiful side profile. after making him wait for a while, you would turn your head to his, accompanied by a knowing look all over your face, “just kiss me”

would beam, coming closer, “if you insist,” and your only mistake would be thinking that he is going to pull away anytime soon.

SUNOO ｡｡ would start to get extremely shy when he feels your eyes on him for too long. heat slowly rising from the bottom of his feet to his cheeks as he tries to avoid your look.

his hand would come hiding his whole flush, “stop staring at me like that,” he would whine, resisting at you trying to get his face out it’s hiding place — your laughter would not help, “is there something on my face or what?”

“stop hiding!” you would giggle sweetly. a proud smile will spread on your lips when he would oblige. “i just really wanted to kiss you, s’all.”

a gape would show between his lips after your question. still, he would present you his cheek with an enthusiastic smile. would turn his head to you after you kiss him, just to do the same on your lips.

JUNGWON ｡｡ would not let the occasion to tease you slip through his fingers, ever. you would be able to see it coming when he smirks.

he would hum, acting as if he was thinking about it. “a kiss?” he would ask himself, looking at the ceiling before looking back at you with a look you won’t like at all. “of course.”

soft hands cupping your face, his lips would delicately rest on your forehead, “here?” he would ask after pulling away, you would shake your head. then he would do the same on your cheek, your nose, the corner of your lips; you would always refuse. “where does my baby want a kiss then?”

you would groan and this man would laugh at your misery, “just kiss me on the mouth already!” this is all he would need to hear.

RIKI ｡｡ his initial purpose would only be doing a cute attention toward you. when you would invite him to come over, he would show up with a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

would fidget on his feet as you admire the bouquet in your hands. biting his inner cheek when your eyes would shoot back to him again. “w-what?” he would laugh nervously, “do you want to kiss me?”

his heart would drop to his stomach when you tell him that you actually want to kiss him really, extremely even, bad right now.

would put his hand on your waist and lean, making sure to not ruin the bouquet in your hand. your hand would rest on his neck, the kiss would be magical.

ㅤㅤ𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open ⎯⎯ this formating was really tiring but i love new challenges 😚

[byhees]

you fangirling over them.

엔하이픈 ・ female reader + word count 500 genre fluff established relationship idol au warnings not proof-read skinship light profanity — more

a/n. requested!

heeseung would be so incredibly smiley; he hadn’t expected for you to show this much adoration towards their new concept pictures, let alone squeal this much over their comeback teasers; listens to your rambles on how “insanely attractive he looks whilst doing even the most minimal of things” and on how “flawlessly pretty his skin looks”, with the most tender of smiles…

jay would honestly be a little embarrassed— i mean, you’re actively going on a passionate spiel about how his visuals are breathtaking and simply out-of-this-world, so how can he not? would raise his hands to shield his reddened cheeks from you, not wanting you to spot his obvious fluster; “oh my god, babe… it’s not that—“ and he’s instantly cut-off with a disbelieving “what??”; would genuinely feel so loved, because here you are, complimenting him and whisking his doubts away…

jake would flash the biggest, most charming, smirk; would drape an arm around your shoulders, tugging you close to his side— hums a little “oh really?” in response to your endearing fangirling, a small smile tugging on the corners of his lips; occasionally bites his bottom lip to hold back a little giggle, finding your exaggerated hand gestures and dramatic explanations, extremely adorable…

sunghoon would be flattered beyond the capability of words; would probably be really bashful, the swell of his cheeks tinted a pretty pink shade; has to pull you close, and bury his face in the crook of your neck, for most parts, finding your compliments really, really flustering. “oh my god?? you look so incredible.. and so ethereal… and so beautiful”, and he’d be left blushing, the tips of his ears warming up…

sunoo would probably giggle upon hearing your rambles; honestly gets pretty shy at your use of vocabulary— surreal, handsome, elegant? they all have him melting; would probably tease you for your reactions, finger raising to boop you on the nose; has to hold back a chuckle when he finds out that you’ve set one of his pictures as your lockscreen…

jungwon would be so, so shy; gets all flustered when you bombard him with heaps of compliments, his dimples making a faint appearance in the midst of your fangirling; eyes shifting to land on nearly every object in the room— cheeks dusted with a pretty red hue when you tip his chin up, locking gazes with him; is really touched when you continually rewatch the comeback trailer, eyes twinkling with unwavering admiration and pride…

riki would feel so proud; listens to your rants on how “stunningly pretty he looks”, and about how “superb he is at acting, especially in their recent trailers”, with a little grin; “oh, really?” he’d hum, the widest of smiles etched on his features— and when you send an aggressive nod his way, he only bursts out into a cacophonous guffaw; finds you so adorable— can’t help but to ruffle the top of your head, a sweet smile glued onto his lips…

taglist open! @halcyoni-ki @wondipity @yjjungwon @shysakuno @niktwazny303 @vnsux @minhosify @haechansbbg @yeomha @stepout-09-15 @chansburgah @sona-verse01 @lilly-bubblelops @smouches @mrchweeee @luvistqrzzz @nwjws @ibsysbsfsunsbs @rikisly @amyysfics @mixtape-racha @berry-and-kkami @rikislady @gweoriz networks! @kflixnet @enhanet @k-labels

[sevenop]

Billie Eilish x Fem!reader: There's nothing you could do or say

A/n: I just want to shove a revolver down my throat and pull the trigger with some indescribable pleasure of primacy. It would break my heart to see you die slowly, fade away and become a ghost of the past.

Inspired by 'i love you,' Billie's point of view. The person this is meant for, I hope you especially like this text. Let me know, dude!

Caution: mention of illness. I apologize if this offends you in any way.

There are only three hours left before the night flight to Berlin, and I still haven't seen you all day: waking up in the same bed together doesn't really count, because I'm always so short of you, you know that. I overslept godlessly, jumped out of bed in one merged impulse, like a Hellhound, and you just smiled, reminding with your calmness the mistress of the underworld - Persephone. You helped me get ready as quickly as possible, reducing my small gap in the schedule to almost zero, even though you just got up.: with slightly swollen and reddened eyes, battered, so homely in my clothes, which I always throw under your palms on purpose. In my clothes, you look so ethereal, protected, so... mine.

For you, I am a hasty whirlwind of branded clothes with a fabulous price tag and my own defenseless nakedness, demolishing everything in my path except you. I hurriedly screw up an awkward, such an unequal to your care "thank you", while my head is quickly filled to the brim with lines-schedules with the time of events for today. The usual madness.

"'Merci', we're still in France," you correct jokingly, perched on the edge of the bed and smile, with the very corners of your lips. Your pale cheek is imprinted with the silhouette of a pillow after sleep, and that smile on your lips is pure fissure.

Your hands twitch a little as you daintily dig your aristocratically skinny fingers into the fabric and take turns holding out the clothes you'd prepared for me while I was in the bathroom. You chalk it up to your over-indulgence in coffee these days, and give me the traditional neat kiss goodbye while I'm so reluctant to let you out of the protection of my palms, which look so good on your waist. You smile again, and again your smile is an immaculate fracture, your eyes a deafening abyss for the first time, unreadable to me.

"How are you feeling, my heart?" - I run my hand over your cheek. You're still too pale even by my standards, and you're also unusually cold. My own heart falls down a little, like a balloon under a weight.

"It's okay, Eilish." - You croak softly in my ear, and it feels so good, it gives me goosebumps. I bite playfully on your lobe, unable to contain myself, and close my fingers around your waist a little tighter. - I'll pack our bags, run or you'll be really late."

Something is really wrong, and I don't have time to ask: the phone in the pocket of my shorts is literally bursting with the trill of a dozen calls, and I'm really far behind schedule. So this "something" is sluggishly drowned out in the noise of my mind as I listen to the manager's plans, drive with my mom and brother from place to place, sit through several consecutive interviews, answering semi-automatically, albeit diligently sincere. Thoughts about you are silenced, resembling furniture still untouched by the hungry tongues of flame, on which the burning roof of the house immediately collapses: it is only necessary to "dive" me back into the car, bypassing the noisy and curious crowd, to not meet the usually extremely warm, understanding and peaceful lakes in mom's eyes - this lingering "something" clicks loudly, again burdening not only the head, but also the whole heart. Blinding sparks of worry gleam in her gaze, like lake pebbles catching the light of the sun through the thickness of the waters. Are there secrets again?

"Mom, is something wrong?" - the sliding door slams shut with a bang as soon as several managers and Finn deftly run into the salon, who is almost dragging the setting sun behind him, like a gel ball on a string: his shaggy red hair playfully winking golden lights in the light. The stocky guard taps the side of the van several times with a massive fist, announcing readiness, and And mom is twitching, as if someone fired a cannon - "Mom?"

"I... I don't think I'm at liberty to tell you just yet, dear." - She self-effacing, wanting to look away, but she doesn't let herself, just catches Finneas's gaze for a second, turning back to me.

"What do you mean?" - I frown, leisurely glancing over her: a little hunched over in her unnaturally, stiff, confused. Not at all like her. His heart began to rattle, climbing up his ribs and all the way to his throat, to lodge there in a lump of excitement and foreboding. Finneas coughs awkwardly, drawing attention to himself, as ungainly as our mother, except that his eyes are cold icebergs of concentration and utter seriousness, and his hands are resting on his knees in a tight grip, as if he's on the scariest attraction of his life. The blood in my arteries boils from the pressurization, from mine own blunt ignorance. - "Tell me, I want to know."

"Y/n hasn't told you yet?" - his voice sounds disproportionately ingratiating in the noise of people's shouts of adoration and the soft rustle of wheels gradually gaining momentum. The van moves smoothly back toward the hotel and It's not long before we'll be leave, all that's left is to pick you up, the rest of the faithful crew and a couple of our suitcases. Except to cut that anger-inducing Gordian knot of misunderstandings that has been wagging since I woke up.

"What the hell are you talking about?!" - the words come out like bright, rustling confetti from a naughty firecracker. I still couldn't help myself.

They look at each other in silence, almost shouting a heartfelt epitaph in the harmony of their voices. Finneas touches my shoulder gently with his palm, and mother takes my hands in her warm palms, and I feel a slight tremor creep through her. I feel that now I find myself along with them on this unknown attraction, that twists nerves and veins on its mechanism, being driven by fear.

"About her leukemia, Bils."

And the world immediately collapses to the size of an atom, ceasing to exist and sound at all. Boom! A shot from a shotgun at point-blank range, what smearing my bloody remains, the remnants of my mind on the darkened glass and the entire cabin. From the floor to the roof.

"What?..." - Like the four pearls clicked quietly on the stone tiles of the floor, as my the letters bounced lightly off the silence of the salon, echoing them. Even the small bunch of managers shut up instantly, looking in our direction with a kind of pity, as soon as this harbinger of doom reaches their ears. Leukemia.

"We don't know if it's really true, because the first symptoms could be conjugated by their similarity to simple severe overexertion, and the resulting diagnosis is a likely paperwork error," - Mom closes her gently fingers on my palms tighter, but my blood is already cold and I can't feel anything, as if I've ducked under the thickest of ice, - "We all just hoping that the new test show it's really true, but..."

"But she asked to be ready." - Finn's voice trembles, but he heroically finishes. - "Just in case."

"What?..." - like a wind-up puppet I scatter these long-suffering four letters again, and I don't have enough for more. In an elusive mind, a puzzle flimsily develops, answering a question that has been stuck into my head since the morning, and I see that smile of yours before my eyes - a delicate pink stroke protecting me from the catastrophe of Vesuvius: "It's okay, Eilish...". And immediately so wants seeing the world blurred, drowning in stinging salt from tears.

And I remember jumping out of the van, remember flying into the elevator, hitting the floor button a hundred thousand times in a few seconds just to get to the top faster, remember how kicking the door to our hotelroom with my whole body, catching you off guard. All of this is completely unimportant, a merged sequence that is so treacherously imprinted on my brain while being completely insignificant. You're sitting near the entrance, perched upright on your large suitcase: your sharp shoulders are outlined by my ridiculously colored T-shirt, and your long legs in baggy jeans are stretched out while you tap your converses socks against each other. You jumping up with a startle, like the devil out of a snuffbox under the force of a steel spring, when the door meets the wall with a distinctive slam. The unreadable morning abysses in your eyes are fathomlessly sad now, while I am devoid of words, all the letters of the alphabet, every possible sound. And you understand just so, without any of those empty air vibrations stealing up the already precious now time. You understand what they told me.

"It's not true," - I kneel down, not even closing the door behind me, I don't care. Wrap both palms around your face, but you just stare at me with a look of worldwide sorrow, cuddling up to me like a beaten kitten. - "Tell me I've been lied to..."

"I'm sorry, Eilish," - your soft whisper that hits me exactly in the solar plexus, - "It's true."

It's true. It feels like my guts have been left somewhere in an elevator office, a bloody trail leading right here to you. I was completely blown away.

"Billie, I-"

"Okey, listen, I'll help! I'll pay whatever it takes, I'll give them everything!" - My ligaments were tearing with excitement, turning my own measured whisper into a pathetic whimper.

"There's nothing you could do or say." - You raking me up into your arms, and without a second thought, I burst into tears: the world in front of me was starting to blur and my eyes stinging. Why? Why you? All you do is stroke my head like a whiny little baby while I crumple the fabric of your t-shirt with my hands, choking on my own despair. - "All we have to do for now is wait. We'll find out in Berlin."

"W-why didn't you tell me this morning?"

"I knew you wouldn't go anywhere after that, I didn't want to cause trouble." - You chuckle softly, and I just press myself into you tighter, my wet nose against your neck, my arms wrapped around you. Suddenly, if I let go now, you're gone forever? - "I'm sorry, I know I should have told you sooner. I just..."

"Please don't leave!" - The tears and nerves are starting to make me shake. The feeling of coldness behind my back mixes with a small flame of hope as your hands stroke my shoulder blades. - "Please, please, please..."

"I won't leave, Eilish," - your hand touches my chin, lifting my head to touch my lips with yours, and I gasp, memorizing absolutely every crack on them as if for the last time. - "I won't leave."

I don't remember how much I was hysterical, but the life-giving warmth of your hands lingered in my memory, which spread down my back, giving me like demonic wings, behind which I so want to hide you from everyone and everything. I remember how I collected your tears with my lips, resembling transparent snakes, as two worried heads appeared in the doorway - a copper-red and a light sandy one, it's mom with Finn. We leave the hotel, and I don't let go of your hand for a second: not when you're carrying a heavy suitcase that I'm trying so hard to take away, not when you jump into the car with me, not when we're sitting in line for a flight. Mom tries to defuse the situation, from time to time timidly and tenderly asking about how you feels, Finneas and dad offer all kinds of help here and there, and you just laugh it off, hiding behind this cunning, and even now beautiful in its falsity fracture playing on your lips. You squeeze my hand tighter, stoically swallowing your own excitement, devouring from the inside.

After a while, we are already climbing the airplane ramp, surrounded by the dense darkness of the night, and you are smiling again, when I look at you anxiously again: the smile that you gave me, even when you felt like dying. An old line, personally composed and now my personal nightmare in an instant, become much stronger than before. What else can I do but wait endlessly? Up all night on another red-eye I stared at you just as endlessly, when fatigue took over and you dozed off, trustingly resting your head on my shoulder. I silently memorizing absolutely every feature of your face to plug the abyss in my head. It's all infinity multiplied by infinity.

The porthole is gradually being colored in light blue tones. We have arrived in Berlin.

×××

A ragged breath bounces off the tiled walls, mixing with a loud splash: I emerge from under the thickness of the already almost cooled water, just to hang limply in the wide bathtub. There is an absolute emptiness in my head, shackle me with it's coolness, like this water around my body. So perfectly. I hear a light knock on the bathroom door, so sonorous, as if you are touching the wood with your very knuckles: they are slightly reddish, beautiful. Yes, I think I was too loud. When you don't hear an answer, you press down on the door handle and walk softly through to carefully sit on the side of the bathad. Excitement spreads in your eyes, like rainbow spots of gasoline on the surface of a puddle.

"Billie, are you okay?"

No, are you? It's so ironic that it's being asked by the person who is now in pathological danger more than anyone else. I'm supposed to be strong for you, but somehow I've suddenly broken down on my own, staring so blankly at that spotless white-washed ceiling for half an hour. Worthlessness. The water splashes again, makeshift waves rising slightly over the tub's rims, leaking onto the tile floor as I assume a sitting position and stare at you after all, eye to eye. Naked and insignificant. I can't do nothing with everything I have, I just want to shove a revolver down my throat and pull the trigger with some indescribable pleasure of primacy. It would break my heart if I see how you die slowly, fade away and become a ghost of the past.

"Yes." - My own hoarse echo, covering weakness.

"Your water's cold, a klutz," - you touch your fingertips to the cold surface and shiver. - "and you're also lying."

We stare at each other in silence, and then I break again like a branch of a flowering tree: rustling and crunching. You and the bathroom start to shake, so I cover my eyes to hold back the hailstones of tears.

"I'm sorry."

"Crying isn't like you," your hot palms touch my cheeks with indescribable care, brushing away the droplets of tears and wiping away the clear paths of sadness. - "Never been the type to let someone see right through."

You speak in my own lines, either from the fact that your thoughts are so close to my soul lyrics, or just to cheer me up. You know how much I enjoy it, how much it amuses me. But right now it's not funny, it hurts. You catch my gaze and your lips quickly fold into a sincere "sorry" before kissing my water-damp forehead.

"What will I do without you if this turns out to be true?" - I grab your wrists, pulling you closer, and you smile for the thousandth time in these two days, while the irises of your beautiful eyes reflect my praying glaciers, which melt in despondency, creating new salty rivers that flow between your slender fingers. You never let go of my face. - "What should I do, Y/n?"

"First off, get out of the cold bath so you don't get sick." - you coo, hiding mutual shards of sharp pain in a gaze that's as variable in its spectrum of light as a gothic stained glass window. - "And we'll decide the rest in a warm bed, okay?"

I climb out of the tub, stepping barefoot onto the bare tile, and you deftly throw a huge, soft towel over me and hold out another, smaller one for my hair.

"I'll be waiting, Eilish." - You kiss my lips, and I don't want to pull away, just hang on to your neck with both arms. The soft towel immediately falls to the floor, once again exposing the pale curves of my body, which you look at fleetingly, shyly.

"Stay with me, don't go, please."

And you stay, leaning patiently on the sink built into the nightstand, waiting for me to run a soft towel over the alabaster skin, collecting all the moisture, waiting for me to put on clean clothes. Silently staring, so attentive, as if memorizing.

"You're so beautiful, O'Connell." - You catch me off guard with your words just as I bend over to open the stopper in the tub. The water immediately swirls into a small spiral vortex, dancing over the drain, and your words make it an order of magnitude harder to breathe. - "My insanity.

We go back to the bedroom: I pull you with me, accompanying you confidently between the coffee table and other furnishings in the dark, and you follow obediently, understanding without any words. We lie down on the bed, and I immediately cling to you in a hug like a baby koala and you cover us with a heavy blanket and I exhale for the first time in two days as if nothing had happened. It would be so nice if it were true.

"You need to rest, Bils." - you gently pull me closer to you, though it feels like it's getting no closer, as I lavish light kisses on your face, -"You're tired."

"You still haven't answered my question."

You sigh heavily, as if your lungs are in a vise and your thoughts are trapped in a snare of fears and your own fear of choosing the wrong words. You look away, but I immediately stroke your face, bringing you back to me. I try to look warmly, even though I'm as scared as you are.

"Let's hope? And if it still don't, then... forget me, please."

I covered my eyes to collect my thoughts, but the same picture was in front of them: tourniquet, needles, thick syringe. I watch from the couch as your dark scarlet blood first spreads moderately along the transparent walls of the cylinder, and then quickly runs upwards, following the piston of the pressurized syringe. I fold my hands in front of me between my apart knees, and I can see them trembling with excitement. You told me not to go, and I just couldn't do it, I'm too worried about you. It's only when the thin needle catches a glimmer in the light, darting out of your vein, that I exhale, diligently watching the shiver. My head wants to twitch in a tic, but I don't let it. For your sake I coped then, I need to cope with the words now.

"Do you want to leave?" - The voice twitches so stupidly, echoing the heart that's throbbing behind my sternum. - "What about your promise?"

"I don't want to, but I love you," - and you don't smile anymore, just pull the corners of your lips down, exposing your own weariness. - "And I don't want you to get hurt even when just looking at me."

"Maybe won't you take it back? Say you were tryingna make me laugh." - I bump my nose against your collarbone, sending goosebumps through your body with my hot breath. - "It'll hurt me even more when I know you'll be alone, that I won't be able to be there for you when I can help in any way, Y/n."

"But now you feel weak and insignificant, I can see that, Eilish! And it's all my fault!" - You furies on, and I deftly catch your lips with mine for a soothing kiss. You exhale stunned, but immediately calm down, becoming so soft and supple in my arms. Only now do I realize how much you've broken yourself under the strain of waiting, realize I can't let go.

"I can't escape the way I love you..." - softly humming just one line, and the embers of hope are already kindling in your eyes.

"I can't escape the way I love you." - you whisper repeat confidently, quieting my restless seas in response.

And we touch each other's lips an infinite number of times, without any words or oppressive thoughts, because they are not necessary now. The excited exhalations, looks, and sensations mean so much more now. You drift off to sleep unnoticed by exhaustion, not breaking the safe warmth of the embrace, sniffle amusedly into my shoulder, and I finally smile with more than a serene smile before I drift off into the realm of Morpheus after you, gulping down a thousand hopes.

It's just over ten hours to the rubicon crossing.

×××

Finneas awkwardly grips the long fingerboard of the bass guitar, touching the thick strings with his fingers, not so much testing as seeking reassurance in the sound. He looks at me, and I shudder as I lean on the microphone stand. The stage lights flared up in one loud click, blinding me, making me frown.

"Are you ready?" - From afar, somewhere in the darkness, the cameraman's cheerful voice is heard.

"One second!" - Mom shrieks from backstage as I almost nod. Synchronously, my brother and I turn our heads in the direction of the shout, and this action also recurs by the rest of the studio staff. Mom is glowing brighter than any spotlight, Dad is almost dancing with a mixture of emotions, and you're standing backstage with them, clutching a folded sheet of paper in your hands. And you smile. At last, without a fracture, so sincerely.

Finn jumps up from his seat like a rocket, and I keep up: flying into your arms with the microphone in hand, making you stagger, but with light laugh.

"Negative." - you whisper gently in my ear, and I'm ready to burst into millions of brightest fireworks. - "The hospital really just mixed up the paperwork back then."

And when the rest of the family joins the hug with joyful hooting, and we all jump together like a football team that won a world match, the heart finally finds peace, getting into the precisely designed groove between the ribs.

You're all right.

[ad-astrah]

Finally Watched Cinderella's Castle Digital Ticket (Twice) and I Gotta Get My Feelings Out Somewhere, Somehow (Part I)

Feel free to light up my DMs to chat about it!

And now, for my personal highlights/live reactions:

immediately I'm drawn in by Nick Lang's silly narrator voice and the way he warns us of what's coming. Especially the "muRrrDder!"

Jeff Blim cut his hair. JEFF BLIM CUT HIS HAIR. Not that I didn't like the long locks, but something about his Aladdin Era short hair gets me, man.

Jeff Blim literally getting to own the stage like the man was born to

Jeff Blim's slutty bard getup with the artfully messy hair and the heavy guyliner. That sinful bastard.

"Let's go." I'll follow you anyway, slutty bard.

Okay 80s rock jam! Hell yes.

idk why but I just love the line "There are tales in those walls, are they true or are they tall?"

THIS SET, THO. 80s vibes. Muppets vibes. Princess Bride vibes. Spooky, ethereal fairytale vibes. I love it! Props to the team who designed and built it.

prance, slutty bard boy, prance around that stage.

Jesus Fuck, I've only seen Joey's puppet but I'm already SOLD. Nick and Matt Lang and whoever else had a hand in making these puppets fucking OUTDID themselves! Did they use the Black Book and resurrect Jim Henson?

Throughout the show, the muppet vibes just absolutely amaze and delight me. Makes me feel like a little kid, spellbound by this fairytale. Except it's much darker, more gruesome, way more explicit, and extremely horny.

Oh look, it's Joey's Jingle/Jangle (whichever elf he was) voice from Black Friday.

Love me some o' dat non-binary representation from Ragweed. Starkid once again screaming GAY RIGHTS bitches.

I'm getting some of Jeff's Aragog from AVPS in this Narrator. Anyone else?

Stupid STUPID butcher!

Jon Matteson's accent. *giggles madly*

Angela IMMEDIATELY having to pause for applause before she finishes her first freaking line. The queen deserves it all, though.

The foreshadowing of the Stepmother cutting off Ella's feet. O_O

"It's furryyyyy and fouuuuul and full o' maGOTTTSSaaaaaggghhhh!"

Angela doing the little spinny finger thing in a guy's face to fluster them just like Max did to her character in Nerdy Prudes. I love these physical running gags. My fave being the Smoke Club, though.

OIIIINK oinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoink

Sir Preston asking for help from the audience. His "ELLAaaaaa....nooooo....."

The lighting in this entire show is SO COOL.

Again, Jeff just louging like a whore about the set like its his bitch. I live for it.

James' COSTUME. He looks SO FUCKING GOOD. Props to the costume folks...and to James' rockin' genes.

"But nothing compares to the juice and the hairs..." Oh no. Ohhhhh no I see where this is going. Don't say it, James, don't-- omg he said it.

er ee er ee er ee *window rolling down*

I thought the Prince drawing bewbies on the frosty window was funny already, and then he goes WAH WAH WAH and pretends to pinch them and I fucking lost it.

The Prince checkin' out DAT AZZZZZZ XD

"I'd wager she's wetter now than when I first found her bobbing in the river." OH MY GOD. PRINCE. THAT'S HER NOT-MOM.

If his highness has had every STD and beaten it, that's so fucked up but also damn, that boy's immune system is killin' it. Literally.

"Poor mad EllaAH"

"This is one thirsty FUCKING house." For real, omg.

"The offer stands firm. Come calling if you are!" *screams*

Jeff miming being crew and pulling the ropes for the curtains.

*audience member sneezes* "Bless you."

Angela's diction is next fucking level. PUNY. PINK. KIND.

The epic troll reveal! The puppets are SO GOOD.

THE FROG FUCKING TURNING AWAY AS SHE ASKED FOR IT TO DO SO SHE COULD KILL IT. CHRIST.

This bayou boogie song of Ella's is an absolute KILLER BOP. Holy shit. And it's SO perfect for Bryce's funky, sassy voice.

Speaking of which, BRYCE'S VOCALS. I'm gonna scream about them for forever and ever and ever. I love her voice SO FUCKING MUCH. I could listen to nothing else for the rest of my days and die a happy little gay.

"ohhhh woah woah waohhh" *flips the bird* She's such a queen for that.

"It needs oregano" WORK BITCH

Bryce's stage presence is fucking INSANE. I dunno how she's not on Broadway, but thank goodness we got her!

SIRE MANY TADPOLES!

GOD I love this absolutely depraved, horny little bastard of a prince.

It's amazing Tadeus hasn't murdered the prince yet. The man deserves a medal for the literal shit he's put up with.

Bugette?! I thought you choked on shit died and were consumed by the Hive Queen?

Rancilda being a typical troll and loving lurking under bridges and telling riddles.

Schuyler Sister vibes from the song with Justine and Lucy. So cute.

Justine and Lucy are SUCH real ones for IMMEDIATELY believing Ella about her family being trolls and for saying "fuck the ball, we're leaving NOW."

Shake dat ass, Mariah!

Lauren's physical comedy as Rancilda is NEXT LEVEL. I'm wheezing over here!

iSNn'tT it A BiiIItTcH?!

I LOOK GOOD IN THIS. What an absolute fucking BANGER. This song is gonna play in my head on repeat for the next decade. What a next level villain song.

Also this gives me some strongass Joan Jett vibes. "I love wearin' the skin of dead girls rock 'n' roll!"

and I hEEeaARr yoU'Re RiiiCCHhH

Seriously, is this the next Top Chart breakup revenge song? It should be.

"I really LIKE that song!" XD Putrice. I love how much of an absolute BIMBO she is.

Rancilda singing the song again. "SHUT UP STUPID BITCH, THE SONG'S OVER." "Okaaaaiiii"

Matt Dahan's ability to riff off the main songs and create motifs is otherworldly.

General MacNamara? Is that you?! Oh wait, nope. Still my slutty, slutty bard.

I LOOOOOOOVE this badass electric guitar intro, holy shit.

Kim Whalen, the queen, getting the bitchin' entrance she deserves.

Starkid is so, so good at their sound design to help immerse you in a scene without blowing a big budget or doing anything elaborate.

...Kim. My girl. Your arms must be tired.

She's just standing there, but Kim's stage presence is still so strong.

I can't get over how Jon's Sir Hops-A-Lot's voice is just a small...ahem. Hop, skip, and a jump away from Wiggly's.

JOEY. THAT ACCENT. You ABSOLUTE genius idiot. I love you for this stupidass voice.

Joey's bowl cut makes me giggle like mad.

I love these two puppets SO much.

GIT IT, KIM.

The call and response bit with Ella and the Goddess reminds me of Hamilton when Washington is dictating his Farewell Address. I know it's gotta be in other musicals, too, but that's the clearest comparison for this nerd at the moment.

Jeff sneaking in the "castle on a hill" song reference in this song.

Kim and Bryce dueting together is just Power incarnate. Holy cow. It's so good.

"You shall be as radiant and terrible as I." Ooooooh. Yes. Gimme.

The Narrator sneaking out from amidst the ensemble to finish off the song was really neat.

That fading spotlight before curtain for intermission with just Ella's face in view is so beautiful and haunting. What an epic close to Act I.

Also, it seems like this was also a strategic way to imply Ella's outfit being transformed there on stage during the song without actually having to do the tricky costume designing quick-change theater miracles of an ACTUAL outfit transformation. Which is really brilliant. Leave the audience to wonder until post-intermission about what Ella's starlight dress will look like.

[oscarpiastriwdc]

albums i would play for each driver on the 2024 F1 grid to expand their music taste

Max Verstappen: Graceland by Paul Simon - As a fan of classic and folk rock, I'd imagine Max has been exposed to Simon and Garfunkel and I think he'd enjoy the sprawling, detailed, careful expanse of Simon's solo masterpiece. Angels in the architecture spinning in infinity, etc etc

Checo Perez: Ramomex by Rebel'd Punk - One of the Mexican bands who pioneered punk music in the country, but Checo probably missed this release because he was too busy karting and moving to europe as a teen. It's never too late to have a proper angry punk phase, though.

Charles Leclerc: Ten Love Songs by Susanne Sundfør - Groundbreaking, life-altering pop music that pushes every boundary. This hits the sad songs craving and I think would interest him as a musician and burgeoning songwriter.

Carlos Sainz: Ultraviolence by Lana Del Rey - daddy issues. I just know he'd vibe out to Brooklyn Baby.

Lando Norris: Destiny by DJ Sabrina the Teenage DJ - I dream of sitting him down and exposing him to actually good, interesting, fun contemporary dj music.

Oscar Piastri: Speaking in Tongues by Talking Heads - He has that certain David Byrne swag and demeanor of someone who'd love the Talking Heads if only given the chance.

Fernando Alonso: 10,000 gecs by 100 gecs - At first the old man would be extremely confused but once he was on board he would be blasting The Most Wanted Person In The United States all day every day.

Lance Stroll: Talon of the Hawk by The Front Bottoms - that post that's like the problem is men are making podcasts instead of forming midwest emo bands. but it's men are becoming f1 drivers instead of forming midwest emo bands. I think some TFB exposure could be the spark of inspiration for a great career pivot.

Lewis Hamilton: Maps by billy woods and Kenny Segal - I fear Lewis might have been too worried about Merc's performance last year to have checked out this fantastic collaboration that was one of 2023's best albums.

George Russell: Contra by Vampire Weekend - I just saw Vampire Weekend live following the release of the new album and at the show there was a guy a few feet ahead of me in the merch line who had the exact same energy as GR. The mix of prep vibes and world music would work into his taste while expanding his listening beyond coldplay.

Yuki Tsunoda: GLOW ON by Turnstile - 100% a selfish pick, I want to mosh with Yuki in the pit of a Turnstile pit.

Daniel Ricciardo: The Panhandlers by The Panhandlers - A country supergroup I return to time and again, wistful and nostalgic, making you yearn for West Texas no matter where in the world you are.

Alex Albon: Pelican West by Haircut 100 - Funky British jazz pop, perfect for dancing and vibing.

Logan Sargeant: Crying, Laughing, Waving, Smiling by Slaughter Beach, Dog - I fear Logie might be too young or too norm core to have had a proper Modern Baseball phase (it's never too late logie! listen to Intersection!) but Ewald's 2023 offering seems like something he missed last year that's perfectly up his alley.

Valtteri Bottas: Merriweather Post Pavillion by Animal Collective - Weird and complex, I think he should throw it on while on a long bike ride and let his mullet fly in the breeze.

Zhou Guanyu: God Save the Animals by Alex G - no you don't understand i need him to listen to Alex G he would love it

Kevin Magnussen: Heaven or Las Vegas by Cocteau Twins - Ethereal music he can feel and let wash over him in a wave to relax and transcend the horrors of driving for Haas.

Nico Hulkenberg: Supernatural by Santana - dad music but make it funky and good

Pierre Gasly: Sex Dreams and Denim Jeans by Uffie - A perfect twist on early 2000s French electronic music, I think it'd remind him of the club while sounding entirely new and make him want to pick up a side dj gig of his own.

Esteban Ocon: Lescop by Lescop - French indie pop-rock! His most recent album is fantastic, but Este should check out Lescop's 2013 debut first.

following a conversation with @liamlawsonlesbian and her definitive book rec list i'm doing something similar for music (she bullied me into posting this sorry). large range in popularity/mainstream-ness of artists depending on the driver and what i think they're already listening to.

[bignostalgias]

Hello!! Listen i have GOT TO KNOW what the White Winter Hymnal AU is about???

like??

It looks amazing?? The art is GORGEOUS and i am foaming at the mouth for more information about the story behind it!! And i LOVE the song by the Fleet Foxes!

But yeah pretty much im obsessed and i'd like to know more about what im obsessed about. Hope you're having a wonderful timezone and take care! <3<3<3

Thank you so much for the ask and interest in Hymnal!! ☺️❤️ it’s a slow burn of an au that’s mostly based on vibes and drawing/writing them has been so cozy for me. Have a wonderful day/night as well!!

Gonna take the lazy route and post of screenshot of me summarizing it from a little earlier this week:

Aaaaand here’s a little snippet of how the forest Hymnal is set in feels:

The forest bordering the sturdy little hamlet of Berk was rich with wonder. This was known. The dark, twisting vines and roots of the wild ended shy of the ring of protective runestones, and if a vein was cut open, it seeped glittering green sap. When venturing past Berk’s protections — which should never be done alone — the sun-dappled ground of the forest was laden with moss and lichen, ethereally soft to the touch. On fortunate endeavors, gatherers returned with newborn lambs bundled in their arms, harvested like fruit from the branches of trees. However, as beautiful as it was, the wild threat the forest posed was ever present in the minds of Berk’s people. At night, lights twinkled from the depths, will o’ the wisps casting their lures. Bobcat yowls startled children from their slumber, mistaken for a human scream. The blinking eyes of wolves, reflecting torchlight, lurking between tree trunks. The forest was hungry and wanting and demanded to be satiated.

Every so often, it was.

Hiccup knew he worried his father, his friends, the farther he strayed from home, the longer he dared to be absent past sunset. How was he to tell them the once unnerving black eyes of birch trees were keeping careful vigil over him, that the bracken and tangled foliage gently parted for him instead of barred his path?

It was well known that to avoid losing ones way, a warrior must wear his tunic inside out, watch where he stepped for stray sods, and never trust trails of weathered cairns.

Hiccup had trouble recalling the last time he’d been lost.

Eventually when Hiccup is out exploring with Toothless he meets Jack, and the plot gets ✨homosexual✨

Something something something, Jack gets his head popped off and this short comic is the result

But wahoo everything turns out fine in the end!

And here’s Kai’s extremely lovely post-canon drawing of them recovered and happy 🥹

❄️ the entire hymnal tag ❄️

[theshiftingwitch]

The ultimate Glow Up

Extreme improvement of all areas of life

The Shifting Witch

Booster:

1. This subliminal is guaranteed to work

2. This subliminal works no matter what I believe

3. This subliminal is designed to work for me no matter what

4. Every subliminal I listen to gives me my desired results.

5. Every subliminal I choose works immediately

6. Every subliminal I listen to gives me immediate, instant, and long lasting results.

7. This subliminal gives me results immediately

8. This subliminal is already working.

9. This subliminal gave me results in seconds

10. This subliminal rewired my subconscious to give me anything I want.

11. I always get what I want instantly.

12. This subliminal works for me effortlessly.

13. Every subliminal I pick works for me effortlessly.

14. I get my desires within seconds

15. I get anything I want effortlessly.

16. My subliminals work like magic

17. This subliminal is already giving me anything I want

18. My life changed completely within seconds after using this subliminal

19. I have everything I want now that I’m listening to this subliminal

20. I have my dream life now that I’m using this subliminal.

Looks:

1- I look divine

2- Every part of me is perfect

3- My body is a perfect replica of my desires

4- My hair is healthy, shiny, and strong

5- My skin is glowing, clear, and soft

6- My eyes are captivating

7- My nose is perfectly tailored to my face

8- I have my desired face, body, weight and height

9- I look ethereal, magnetic, and alluring

10- Everywhere I go I get endless compliments on my perfect looks.

11- My face is perfectly symmetrical

12- My jawline is sharp

13- My body is healthy and energetic

14- I have a super fast metabolism

15- I am always at my desired weight

16- My eyebrows and eyelashes are always exactly how I want them

17- I don’t have any scares, pimples or hyperpigmentation

18- I look ethereal, charismatic, and enchanting

19- I am the beauty standard

20- I am the Most beautiful person in the world.

Personality:

1- I am confident

2- I am magnetic

3- I am soft spoken and sure of myself

4- I capture everyone’s attention effortlessly

5- I am smart and well spoken

6- I am charming, strong, and determined

7- I am ambitious and always go after what I want

8- I have the power to follow my dreams

9- I love myself unconditionally and it shows in the way I treat myself and others

10- I am kind, attentive, and generous

11- I am everyone’s favourite person

12- I am always the center of attention

13- I effortlessly get everything I want

14- I make friends everywhere I go

15- People are always drawn to me

16- Everywhere I go, people cater to me

17- I am effortlessly charming

18- I know my own worth and people love my confidence

19- I am destined for great things

20- I am an amazing person to be around

Love life:

1- My SP is in love with me

2- My SP is obsessed with me

3- My SP is always thinking about me

4- My SP is always looking out for me

5- My SP is dedicated to me

6- My SP cherishes me

7- My SP puts me above everything and everyone

8- My SP always calls and texts me

9- My SP is working towards a future with me

10- My SP constantly dreams about me

11- My SP says I’m the best thing they have ever had

12- My SP constantly tells me they love me

13- My SP is devoted to me

14- My SP always makes sure I’m happy

15- My SP keeps assuring me they love me without me even asking

16- My SP is always making sure I’m comfortable

17- My SP can’t go a day without talking to me

18- My SP always says that they’re obsessed with making me happy

19- My SP only has a soft spot for me

20- My SP is loyal, clingy, and devoted

21- My SP is a kind person who prioritizes me

22- My SP never entertains anyone but Me

23- My SP is dedicated to our Life together

24- My SP knows how to make me feel loved

25- My SP knows I am the one

26- My SP can never let me go to bed upset

27- My SP always assures me we are meant to be

28- My SP makes me happy

29- My SP is happy with me

30- My SP is living their best life with me

Money and wealth:

1- I am rich

2- I am wealthy

3- I am abundant

4- I always have money

5- I never run out of money

6- Cash is a loyal companion in my life

7- I am always being spoiled

8- I am always taken care of

9- I always have what I need

10- I get luxury gifts all the time

11- I make money out of thin air

12- I am always making more and more money

13- I can afford whatever I want

14- I have everything I need at all times

15- All of my desires are handed to me on a silver platter

16- The more fun I have the more money I make

17- The happier I am the richer I get

18- Money follows me everywhere I go

19- Manifesting money is so easy for me

20- Wealth is my birthright

21- Money is obsessed with me

22- Cash flows into my life on a daily basis

23- I make money in my sleep

24- I have an abundance of passive streams of income

25- I do what I love and it makes me richer every day

26- I am at peace knowing that money is always mine

27- Money flows into my life like running water

28- Riches are my divine right

29- Everything I do makes me richer

30- Everything I want comes to me effortlessly

Luck:

1- I am lucky

2- I am extremely lucky in every area of life

3- I am the luckiest person in the world

4- Everything always works out for me

5- Everything always goes my way

6- Everything I want is simply mine

7- Luck is my lifelong companion

8- Luck follows me everywhere I go

9- I manifest so easily because I’m so lucky

10- I am so lucky my life is magical

11- Miracles flow into my life everyday

12- I always get great things out of thin air

13- I feel like I’m on top of the world

14- I have everything I want and more

15- I am constantly favored by the universe

16- I always have amazing things happen to me

17- Every day is more magical than the day before

18- Everything always works out for me

19- Everything always works out in my favor

20- I am the embodiment of luck and fortune.

Self concept:

1- I am a master manifestor

2- I am the god of my reality

3- I am the operant power

4- Everything I say goes

5- Everything I desire is mine

6- I have all of my desires now

7- I manifest instantly

8- I manifest effortlessly

9- I don’t have to lift a finger to get what I want

10- I manifest within seconds

11- I create my reality

12- I decide and it’s done

13- Anything I desire comes to me instantly

14- Everything I desire comes to me effortlessly

15- My words are powerful and they manifest in seconds

16- My life is perfect because I said so

17- I am an expert at law of assumption

18- I am a master shifter

19- My reality bends to my will

20- I get everything I want when I want.

Health:

1. I am healthy

2. I am in perfect shape

3. I have a healthy body

4. I am full of energy

5. I am always healthy

6. I have always been healthy

7. My body is at optimal health levels

8. I always have energy to do what I love

9. I am always in good shape

10. My body is in perfect condition

11. My bones are strong

12. My muscles are strong and healthy

13. My joints are strong and flexible

14. My upper body is strong

15. My lower body is strong

16. I am fit

17. I am strong and flexible

18. I never get sick

19. I never get tired

20. I am never in any pain

Shifting:

1. I am a master shifter

2. I shift realities easily and instantly

3. Shifting has always been easy for me

4. Waking up in my DR is natural for me

5. I shift my awareness daily

6. Becoming aware of other realities has always been as easy as breathing for me

7. I shift every day

8. I exist in infinite realities right now

9. I am the most powerful shifter there is

10. I believe I can shift

11. I know I am shifting now

12. I am aware of my desired reality

13. I decide to shift and it’s done

14. I am the creator of my reality

15. I am pure consciousness

16. I am pure awareness

17. I know I can shift easily

18. I understand I am a master shifter

19. I know that shifting is effortless

20. I believe in my ability to shift instantly

[totally-lyrical]

you know what i liked about the movie version of wicked?

(because yes, i liked it, quite a lot!)

it wasn't ashamed to be what it is.

so many hollywood musicals are ashamed to be musicals, especially ones made recently, but wicked just... wasn't. it was a movie version of a broadway musical. full stop. and, honestly, i think it worked wonderfully!!!

they did a fantastic job of converting it into another medium, and they played around a lot with costumes, set design, and ESPECIALLY the camera work!!!

(this is a longer post than i thought so i talk more under the cut)

I want to draw attention to a specific song that was done extremely well (NOT popular, god knows thats been played to death, the poor song) "what is this feeling"

GO LISTEN TO IT.

the schtick with this song is that the leadup almost feels like glinda and elphaba are gonna be in lesbians with each other, and then the word at play becomes LOATHING. but!!!! it feels like it would make for a PERFECT romantic reprise. The whole movie i was just WAITING for the music to suddenly halt and for elphaba to say "what is this feeling"

any other hollywood musical movie would absolutely WRECK this song because hollywood executives are fucking COWARDS. but instead, they stayed true, and the movie just... works.

ariana grande was ABSOLUTELY the right choice for glinda by the way, her voice works wonderfully for the character, even if she doesnt sound at all like the original broadway actress.

i also want to draw attention to the movie version of defying gravity (cynthia erivo has the voice of a GODDESS) because!!!! !!!!! !!!!!!!!! !! its SO WELL DONE. the way her cloak-cape is massive and billowing as she flies! the way she has an innate understanding of how to use her broom and it SHOWS! the way the winds of the storm make her look simultaneously divine and, well, wicked! god the way she just makes the classic "clipart witch" look absolutely ETHEREAL. the way how in the final scenes she's framed by the massive windows, making her silhouette stand beautifully against the sunset, while glinda is off to the side more, showing that this is ELPHABA'S moment. augh i love that scene

they took the broadway version and placed it into a medium where they could do MORE with it, could take what they already did well, and then kick it up a couple notches, and it was GLORIOUS.

when i looked at the set design, i just went "yeah, that's what oz looks like. yep makes sense." like that is what you WANT set design to do (and i'd like to mention that i have basically NO knowledge of the world of oz!) and the costume work made the characters interesting and lively, without even really doing anything special!

i understand that usually, things like this are just a low-effort low-budget cash grab, but i could FEEL the care put into making this movie, and i think that says something.

[emotionaldisaster909]

I really, really love Hua Cheng for being, actually, a normal person, despite being a very unusual person.

It always feels like a revelation to me, because if you just read the novel and the manhua, Hua Cheng seems like such an enigma. His every word is like a declaration of arrogance, hatred, playfulness, pure devotion and other extremes. He knows everything, he doesn’t fear anything, he has an imposing, impossibly defined character in the three realms.

He seems ethereal, perfect and you struggle to imagine such a person.

But than you watch the donghua and actually hear him speak. And he speaks LIKE A PERSON.

Not like some ultimate yaoi gigachad.

Just like a normal human being.

He is relaxed, shy, petty, worried, tense, caring, somber, sad, happy in ALL the NORMAL places. And he suddenly goes from being some unreachable god(lol) to being relatable as FUCK.

That’s what’s so amazing about voices, (and about chinese voice acting, I’m sorry but it’s so refreshing after japanese overly emotional one, can we agree-) is how they can convey and make blatantly obvious one’s whole being, whole personality.

That’s why I’m rewatching, or, more like, re-listening the donghua over and over and over again. I just understand Hua Cheng, whose pov we never got in the novel, so much better. And he is SO UNDERSTANDABLE.

[bookscandlesnbts]

Songs that Remind me of Jikook Part 1

While we wait impatiently for the Jikook travel show, I thought it might be fun to share song recs that remind us of Jikook beyond the classics: There For You, all the other GCF songs, Own It, Body Electric, Serendipity, Magic Shop, Still With You, ect. You can use these songs to add to your playlist or when you listen to them, you can think of Jikook too! I have three recommendations in this post.

1. Agora Hills by Doja Cat.

I know Doja is controversial and so is her partner BUT this song bangs y’all. The beat is nasty and the lyrics are so so Jikook coded (to me). Screen shot of one of the most Jikook-esque parts of the song but honestly the verses fit so well too. We know how much Jungkook and Jimin love to brag on each other and gush over each other. And sometimes they even get a little wild *cough Rosebowl and hickey gate and footsies*

2. Call it What You Want by Taylor Swift

This song is the only one in Taylor’s discography that is extremely Jikook coded to me. I screenshotted my favorite part but again, the whole song screams Jikook to me. The “trust him like a brother” lyric feels like a dig to anyone who screams that Jikook are brothers as a form of coping with the fact that they definitely aren’t. And I love the whole concept of Call It What You Want being about speculation about a romantic relationship and the two lovers don’t care you can call their bond whatever you want but they will still love and support each other. If that’s not Jikook idk what is.

3. Coma by Caroline Polachek

Okay, hear me out with this one because if you haven’t heard of Caroline Polachek (she’s the least mainstream on this list) then I promise you are missing out. Caroline is amazing. Shes definitely experimental, so if that isn’t your thing then you probably won’t like this gorgeous 5 minute song, but I’m obsessed with it. Her voice is so ethereal, the instrumental is busy but addicting and the lyrics are simple but effective as hell. Overall, the song gives a wholesome lovey dovey vibe that truly feels like you are floating. It reminds me of Jikook because when I listen to this I imagine this is how they feel being with each other for so many years and truly “I am you, you are me”. If you give this one a chance and love it, let me know. I stan Caroline so hard and think everyone should experience her genius. Her whole album Desire, I Want To Turn Into You top to bottom is an art pop masterpiece.

Feel free to comment or reblog with your recs! I want to create a fun Jikook playlist with the classics and songs that generally remind me of them. I’ll do another part when inspiration strikes and I’ve got more recs!

[steifel]

HERE TO ASK YOU ABOUT UR TRANS JOHNNY AND SODA HEADCANONS 🫡

I may have gone a little over bord with these

TW: self harm, suicidal thoughts, transphobia, gender dysphoria, talks of body parts. Everything is very minor but please protect your peace

Sodapop

-first off She cam out to Johnny first on accident Darry had taken Pony to the doctors so nobody was home Soda wanted to test a theory. She was dancing around the house in a mini skirt and a stuffed bra Johnny walked into the house and was like "you wanna talk about this? You don't have to"

-soda literally broke down telling Johnny everything

-poor Johnny has no idea how to comfort people but he just sat there listening and understanding

-she told Pony next they were laying in bed one night and the conversation went like this

S: hay Pone? You know how Johnny was born a girl but hes really a boy?

P: mhm

S: well sometimes i feel like i might be your sister even though ive always kind of been your brother

P: *pulling Soda into a big hug* ok

S: thats it just ok

P: um okay.... I love you?

S: love you too pony

-she told Darry next and he required a lot more information than ponyboy did.

-how long have you known

- she/her?

-who all knows

-is your name still Sodapop

-how do you feel

-do you want me to help you tell anyone

-is there anything i can do to help you?

-after Darry got all the information he needed he just hugged his sister and said "i always wanted a little sister"

-she told Steve next

-he was actually kind of excited

-after she told Steve she started living as a girl 100% of the time

-Twobit and Dally were super confused but they eventually figured it out

-Soda is a woman of extremes she is ether so eurphoric shes ontop of the world or so dysphoric that she can barely get out of bed

-her bad dysphoria days just about kill Steve

-he knows that she's the most beautiful girl in the world and it hurts him that she doesn't know that

-when she's dysphoric he always gives her one of his long shirts to wear and then holds her in bed as long as she needs just telling her shes beautiful and playing with her hair.

-when she's super euphoric you bet your ass Steve is gonna take her out and show her off (if anyone says anything bad they get jumped)

-if/when she goes on E she wears push up bras every day and that makes Steve go crazy

-if you think Soda was hot as a guy than you'll think shes a goddess as a girl

-Steve feels so lucky

-its not all fun and games though

-she gets jumped a lot

-the socs can be very vilont with her

-she tends to silently cry herself to sleep a lot

-her and Johnny get really close

-they actually trade pre transition cloths

-johnny teaches her all of the "girl" stuff he learned in childhood and she teaches him the "guy" stuff

-believe me when i tell you that Soda is a MASTER at tucking

-she wears super tight pants and skirts

-Soda is suuuuper fem

-she loves doing her hair and makeup

-this pisses pony off because she takes forever to get ready in the mornings

-the one bathroom thing starts to become a problem now that Soda takes an hour to get ready

Johnny

-was absolutely terrified to come out to the gang

- he put it off for a long time

-came out to Dall first

-and he only came out at this point because Dally could tell something was bothering his little buddy

"So you gonna tell me whats wrong or am i gonna have to guess?"

-dall was genuinely so mad. Not because he's trans but because Johnny had the gaul to ask if Dally hated him now

-when he told Pony he had a shit ton of questions

-this is mostly the reason Pony didn't have a lot of questions when Soda came out

-johnny is one of those lucky bastards that naturally looks masculine so he passes almost immediately

-he never gets out of his baggy clothes and flanels phase (me projecting)

-every single member of the gang makes him take his binder off after 8 hours

"Comon Dall just a little while longer? Please"

"Jonnycakes we can do this the easy way or the hard way now it dont matter to me but i gotta fealing you're not gonna like the hard way"

-eventually Johnny starts to feel more comfortable around the gang without it

-if he's in public though he doesn't give a fuck what dallys "hard way" is he will be wearing that binder

-while Soda usually experiences her transness through euphoria Johnny usually experiences his through disphoria

Another TW for SH and Suicidal thoughts ill let you know when it ends

-he has a tendency towards SH

-one time dally found him attempting to give himself top surgery and he had actually gotten pretty far

-Dally was horrified he's no stranger to blood and violence but it was really bad

-Johnnys gotten a lot better but there was one point where they hid all the knives and did there best to have somebody with him at all times

-Darry has had to grab his hands and hold him super tight before

-Dally had a really hard time sleeping during this time he made Johnny stay with him and he just watches Johnny sleep.

-Dally was just terrified he was gonna lose Johnny over something as stupid as how the world sees him

Major TW over

-on major dysphoria days he really just wants to be left alone.

-he mainly just sleeps on those days

-the whole gang tries to help but sometimes you just have to feel your feels you know

-he cries because of it sometimes and that just makes the dysphoria worse which makes him cry more (me too me too)

-Johnny absolutely loves it when the boys roughhouse with him cause it makes him feel like they really see him as a guy

Ok i feel like if i keep talking about Johnny im ether gonna start crying or just spill every bit of information about my transness. anyway i hope you enjoyed

[darkforestfae-tea]

How to talk to the Wind~ Air Elemental

This turned into an extremely long post. I debated on splitting it into 2 parts, but I’d rather keep it together. This took me about 2 weeks to write out! Thank you so much for reading!

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

1. If the wind Falls silent, she is listening to you. Speak.

When the wind falls silent, an almost ethereal stillness takes over, creating a moment ripe for introspection and connection. It's as if nature itself has paused, holding its breath to listen. In such moments, one might feel compelled to speak, to share thoughts or emotions that have been swirling within. This silence, often rare and fleeting, can feel like an invitation to open up, to let the words flow freely and honestly. It's a reminder that communication isn't just about being heard by others but also about the cathartic act of expressing oneself.

The wind, in many cultures and literary works, symbolizes change, movement, and the passage of time. When it ceases, it can signify a moment of clarity or a break from the chaos. This stillness can be seen as a sacred space where one can connect with deeper truths or even with the universe itself. It’s an opportunity to speak without fear of judgment, knowing that the silence is there to absorb and understand rather than to critique or dismiss. In this quietude, your words can carry more weight, echoing in the stillness and perhaps resonating more deeply within yourself and the world around you.

So, when the wind falls silent and you feel that she is listening, speak with authenticity and courage. Share your innermost thoughts, dreams, and fears. Embrace the silence as a chance to communicate not just outwardly but also inwardly. Let your words be a bridge between your inner world and the still, listening universe. This is a rare and precious moment, a chance to be truly heard, even if it is just by the silence itself.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

2. Always Whisper

When speaking to an air elemental, always whisper. This subtle yet crucial guideline underscores the ethereal nature of these magical beings. Air elementals are creatures that embody the essence of wind and air, often depicted in folklore and fantasy as graceful, invisible entities or whirling vortices. Their very existence is intertwined with the gentlest breezes and the softest whispers of nature. As such, they are attuned to the delicate sounds that most mortals overlook. Speaking in a whisper not only shows respect for their domain but also allows for clearer and more harmonious communication.

Whispering to an air elemental can create a profound connection, aligning one's voice with the subtle currents of air that they inhabit. Loud or harsh sounds may disturb or even anger these beings, as they are accustomed to the serene and tranquil aspects of their element. By whispering, one communicates on a frequency that resonates with their airy essence, fostering a sense of trust and mutual understanding. This approach can be especially important for those seeking the favor or guidance of an air elemental, as it signals a willingness to meet them on their terms.

Moreover, the act of whispering can be a meditative practice for the speaker, encouraging mindfulness and a deeper awareness of the environment. It requires one to slow down and consider the impact of their words, fostering a more intentional and respectful interaction. In this way, speaking to an air elemental in whispers not only honors their nature but also enriches the speaker's own experience, creating a serene exchange that mirrors the gentle and flowing characteristics of air itself.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

3. In case there is a wind swirl carrying autumn leaves, step back. Let her dance.

In case there is a wind swirl carrying autumn leaves, step back. Let her dance. Imagine standing on a crisp autumn afternoon, with the sun casting a golden hue over the landscape. Suddenly, a playful gust of wind sweeps through, lifting the fallen leaves into a mesmerizing dance. The leaves whirl and twirl, creating a spectacle of nature's artistry. This is a moment to pause and appreciate the beauty that often goes unnoticed in our busy lives.

Every leaf in that swirl has a story. They have transformed from vibrant greens of spring and summer to the rich reds, oranges, and yellows of fall. As they float and spin, they remind us of the cyclical nature of life and the beauty in every stage of existence. The wind's choreography is spontaneous yet perfect, showing how nature can create art without any intention or effort. It’s a gentle reminder to find joy and wonder in the simplest of moments.

So, the next time you encounter a wind swirl carrying autumn leaves, step back and let her dance. Embrace the opportunity to reconnect with nature's serene and fleeting beauty. Allow yourself to be captivated by the elegant dance of the leaves, and let it inspire a sense of peace and gratitude in your heart. It’s these small, magical moments that enrich our lives and remind us of the profound beauty that surrounds us every day.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

4. Don’t go outside if the wind is howling. There are spirits passing through.

The notion that howling winds are a sign of spirits passing through has long been a staple in folklore and ghost stories. It's a belief that has been handed down through generations, often to instill a sense of caution and respect for the unseen world. When the wind howls, it can create a symphony of eerie sounds, from whispers to wails, which easily stir the imagination. These sounds can be interpreted as the voices of spirits, adding a supernatural element to the natural phenomenon.

In many cultures, the wind is considered a conduit for spirits and otherworldly beings. For instance, in ancient Greek mythology, the Anemoi were wind gods, each representing a cardinal direction and possessing distinct personalities and powers. Similarly, in Native American traditions, the wind is often seen as a messenger, carrying the voices of ancestors and spiritual beings. These cultural narratives contribute to the belief that howling winds are more than just a meteorological event—they are a moment when the veil between the physical world and the spiritual realm becomes thin.

While science explains howling winds as the result of atmospheric pressure differences and natural air currents, the enchantment of these stories persists. Whether taken literally or metaphorically, the advice to stay indoors when the wind is howling serves as a reminder of the mysteries that still captivate the human mind. It’s a poetic way to acknowledge that there are forces in the world that remain beyond our understanding and that sometimes, it's best to respect the unknown.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

5. She already knows everything about you. Never lie.

The wind elemental possesses an uncanny ability to perceive truths hidden from mortal eyes. This ancient entity, often depicted as an invisible force that flows seamlessly through the world, has a profound connection with the very essence of nature. As such, it can sense the innermost thoughts and feelings of those it encounters. To lie to the wind elemental is not only futile but also unwise, as it already knows the truths that lie beneath the surface.

When one interacts with the wind elemental, honesty and transparency are paramount. This being of air and spirit can effortlessly read the subtle nuances of human intention and emotion, much like how it reads the shifting patterns of the weather. Attempting to deceive the wind elemental would be akin to trying to hide a secret from the sky itself. It is said that those who are forthright and open with the wind elemental often find themselves rewarded with its favor, whether that be through a gentle breeze guiding them on their path or a timely gust that aids them in a moment of need.

In legends and stories passed down through generations, the wind elemental serves as a reminder of the power of truth and integrity. Its omniscience teaches that living a life of honesty and openness can lead to harmony with the world around us. Whether seeking guidance or simply coexisting with the natural forces, respecting the knowledge and wisdom of the wind elemental can lead to a more enlightened and fulfilling journey. So, when faced with the presence of this all-knowing being, remember to speak truthfully, for the wind elemental already knows everything about you.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

6. You may play the flute. (Or another wind instrument)

Playing the flute for an air spirit is a poetic and enchanting concept that bridges the realms of music and mythology. Imagine standing on a misty hilltop at dawn, the first light of day casting a golden hue over the landscape. The air is crisp and filled with the soft rustlings of the wind through the leaves. In this serene setting, you raise your flute to your lips, poised to create a melody that will resonate with the very essence of the air spirit.

The notes of the flute, light and ethereal, seem to blend seamlessly with the natural sounds around you. As you play, you can almost feel the presence of the air spirit, a delicate and invisible entity that moves with the breeze. The music you create serves as a bridge, connecting the tangible world with the intangible, inviting the air spirit to dance and play. Each melody you produce is a tribute to the freedom and fluidity of the air, embodying a sense of grace and movement that mirrors the spirit’s own nature.

This act of playing the flute for an air spirit is more than just a whimsical idea; it's a celebration of the profound connection between humans and the natural world. It speaks to our innate desire to communicate with and honor the unseen forces that influence our lives. Through the music of the flute, you are not only entertaining an air spirit but also paying homage to the beauty and mystery of the natural world, reminding us all of the magic that exists just beyond the veil of the everyday.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

7. Listen to the Storms. Don’t talk.

The symphony of the storm is a language unto itself, a dialogue of the elements that speaks in a cadence both ancient and powerful. When the wind howls and the rain pelts against the earth, it is as though the very essence of nature is communicating in a voice that transcends human speech. To understand this voice, one must listen with more than just their ears; they must open their soul to the raw, untamed energy of the wind elemental. This force of nature, unseen but deeply felt, carries messages of change, transformation, and the relentless passage of time.

To truly connect with the wind elemental, silence is key. In silence, you can feel the whispers of the wind as it dances through the branches, swirls around rocks, and sweeps across open plains. This connection is not just about hearing, but about feeling the energy and intention behind the movement of air. It’s about recognizing that the wind is more than a mere force; it is a messenger, a guide, and a companion. By listening, we honor its presence and allow its ancient wisdom to permeate our being, grounding us in the present while connecting us to the timeless dance of the natural world.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

8. She gives life to your words. Make them meaningful. Especially when you talk to her.

The wind spirit, ethereal and ever-present, dances through the trees and whispers to the leaves, carrying stories and secrets from distant lands. When you speak to her, let your words be imbued with the same grace and fluidity she embodies. Speak not just with your voice, but with your heart and soul, allowing each word to flow like a gentle breeze caressing the earth. Your words should be as vibrant and life-giving as the wind itself, breathing existence into the thoughts and emotions you wish to convey.

Imagine your words as seeds, carried on the currents of her breath, finding fertile ground in the minds and hearts of those who listen. Nurture these seeds with sincerity and intention, allowing them to grow into something beautiful and meaningful. Acknowledge the power she holds, the invisible threads she weaves through our lives, connecting us in ways we may never fully comprehend. By doing so, you honor her essence and the life she breathes into every syllable.

When you converse with the wind spirit, let your dialogue be a symphony of respect and wonder, a harmonious exchange that elevates both speaker and listener. Embrace the silence between words, for it is in those quiet moments that her true wisdom often lies. Let your words be a reflection of the natural world she so effortlessly navigates, filled with the same awe and reverence that she inspires. In this way, your words will not only carry meaning but will resonate deeply, leaving an indelible mark on the tapestry of existence.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

9. If she whispers in your ear, listen closely. It means she trusts you enough to share secrets.

When a wind spirit whispers in your ear, it is an invitation to connect with the unseen world around you. This ethereal being, often depicted as a gentle, invisible force, chooses to share its secrets with only the most attuned and trustworthy individuals. Listening closely to these whispers can be a profound experience, offering insights that transcend ordinary understanding. It is a rare and precious gift that signifies a deep bond with the natural elements and an openness to the mysteries they hold.

The secrets shared by a wind spirit can encompass a wide range of wisdom, from ancient folklore and forgotten histories to personal guidance and intuitive knowledge. These whispers might carry messages about the environment, urging you to respect and protect the earth, or they might offer personal revelations that help you navigate your own life's journey. The key is to remain open and receptive, allowing the wind spirit's voice to resonate within you without skepticism or doubt.

Embracing the whispers of a wind spirit requires a mindful and meditative approach. Find a quiet space where you can attune yourself to the subtle nuances of the wind. As you listen, let your mind and heart remain still, creating a sanctuary for the spirit's voice to be heard. In doing so, you not only honor the trust bestowed upon you but also deepen your connection to the natural world and the timeless wisdom it offers. This sacred exchange can enrich your life, guiding you with the gentle yet profound truths carried on the wind.

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10. Word travels far and fast. Don’t say anything to awake the spirits.

In many cultures around the world, the concept of words carrying immense power is a common thread. Words can travel far and fast, transcending time and space, influencing those who hear them. This is particularly true in folklore and myth, where speaking certain words can invoke spirits or other supernatural entities. The cautionary advice to "not say anything to awake the spirits" underscores the belief that words have the power to affect the unseen world, where spirits reside.

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11. She has a strong temperament and gets angry easily. Make sure you’re always nice to her. You don’t want to be on her bad side.

The wind spirit, sometimes known as Zephyra, possesses a strong and unpredictable temperament that can change as swiftly as the breeze. While she can be gentle and soothing, her anger is a force to be reckoned with. Legends say that Zephyra's fury can stir up powerful storms, uproot ancient trees, and send ships veering off course. Thus, it is wise to always approach her with respect and kindness.

To stay in Zephyra's good graces, one must be mindful of their words and actions. She values honesty and sincerity above all else, and she can sense deceit like a sudden shift in the wind. Offering small tokens of appreciation, such as delicate feathers or fragrant flowers, can also help in winning her favor. These gestures show that you honor her presence and the natural world she governs.

Remember, Zephyra's moods are as changeable as the skies. Her anger may be intense, but her forgiveness is equally profound. If you find yourself having inadvertently upset her, a heartfelt apology and a promise to be more considerate in the future can go a long way. By cultivating a relationship of mutual respect and understanding, you can enjoy the blessings of Zephyra's gentle breezes and avoid the wrath of her tempestuous gales.

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12. If she’s talking to thunder, leave them alone. They don’t want you to hear.

Imagine the mystical conversation between wind and thunder, two forces of nature that hold immense power and mystery. The wind, with its gentle whispers and fierce gales, embodies the freedom and fluidity of movement. It travels across the world, touching every corner, carrying with it the secrets of faraway lands. Thunder, on the other hand, is the voice of the storm, a booming presence that commands attention and respect. It heralds the arrival of rain and lightning, bringing a sense of awe and sometimes fear. Together, they form a dynamic duo that shapes our natural world in profound ways.

So, if you ever feel the wind rustle through the trees or hear the distant rumble of thunder, take a moment to appreciate the secret conversation happening just beyond our grasp.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

13. A sudden draft can be seen as a bad omen.

The symbolic interpretation of drafts as bad omens can also be linked to the more tangible effects they have on our environment. A sudden draft can extinguish a candle, cause a door to slam shut unexpectedly, or create eerie, unsettling noises. These occurrences can easily evoke a sense of mystery and fear, especially in dimly lit or isolated settings. Consequently, such events have become fertile ground for ghost stories and superstitions, reinforcing the idea that a draft is an indicator of something ominous or otherworldly.

Despite these traditional beliefs, it's important to view sudden drafts through a rational lens as well. Modern science offers explanations for such phenomena, attributing them to changes in air pressure, temperature differences, and architectural features of buildings. While the eerie sensation of a sudden draft can still cause a shiver down the spine, understanding its natural causes can demystify the experience. Ultimately, whether one sees a draft as a bad omen or a simple quirk of the environment often depends on the interplay between cultural beliefs and scientific knowledge.

14. Never, ever, complain about her. She will remember.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Sources:

— pictures off Pinterest.

--Content taken from a list of "how to talk to the wind" The original list was bullet pointed and kept in this post as the numbers. (i.e. 1. If the wind falls silent, she is listening to you,. Speak.") I added in the paragraphs following each bullet point to go further into detail for new practitioners or anyone interested in working with the air element.

Thank you for Reading! I absolutely love sharing my knowledge & learnings with others. I try to make posts a few times a week! & they are all organized on my profile.

Until we cross paths once more! Best wishes to all you wonderful witches! Warm regards, Tea.

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

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[bambisnc]

♥♥♥ pairing : na jaemin x reader hehehehehehe genre : suggestive except i can't really write suggestive that well (YET) so mixed w angst ish cw/tw : unedited + swearing + reader is in a dress and has hair long enough to be tied up to show their pretty af neck + jaem and reader r trying to play some kinda mind games or osemthing idrfk man + lmk if there r some that i missed bc i have my language exam day after tomorrow and i need to study CRIES wc : 0.8k ish ... notes : def suggest listening to it w the osng in the bg!! ♥♥♥ mm okay so attention by charlie puth + ex situationship!jaemin

under the hazy blue and violet lights of some party, you’d be damned if you knew whose it was, you notice him surrounded by people. obviously you won't even think of going over to him, no, you have a better plan

so you bide your time, make sure to position your figure - swathed in a gorgeous dress, perfectly equal amounts of ethereal and alluring - in such a way that he wouldn't see you immediately, no god you'd rather him have a little bit of internal debating, mind filled with thoughts of you

then!! when his eyes finally catch a glimpse of you somewhere in the corner of his view he all but completely drops his conversation with the girl he'd been talking to, yearning somewhat subconsciously for a proper glance

and boy oh boy when he finally gets the opportunity to absolutely devour you with his eyes - flickering ruby hues illuminating your figure, as you throw your head back, laughing in that utterly perfect way of yours at something someone said..

he isn't really bothered that you've apparently shown up with someone to be honest, you don't really have a relationship which warrants him having any feelings like that, not anymore

but he can't help but feel extremely concerned at the way he is immediately flooded with images of you - of your playful eyes, of your exposed neck when you tie up your hair, of how your nose wrinkled slightly when you cringed at something and your lips, oh god those lips

I know that dress is karma, perfume regret You got me thinking 'bout when you were mine

so you really can't blame him when he walks towards you.. only to go right past and making his way to the roof

and you hate to be predictable but you really can't help making up some story, excusing yourself from the person you were with - name and face forgotten with practiced ease - as you follow behind

the chill air hits you as you seek the railing, attempting to look for him without making it obvious, but you barely have any time to process it before you feel a warmth, a very familiar warmth enveloping your figure

turn around with as much nonchalance as you can muster, which proves to be rather challenging because of how your heart seems to exalt with sheer joy it's obviously due to the success of your plan, due to you winning right? and see jaemin. looking just as in-place and confident as ever as he smiles at you

as if he's forgotten all that happened between you two. forgotten all the hugs, the hand-holding, the sleepovers which lead to certain experiments, somehow always ending with kisses placed at the corner of your lips till one day you decided you wanted more and pulled his collar, yanking his lips to meet yours in a passionate exchange

this is your game though. you've basically already won so you refuse to give up now in the face of the perilous adversity that is jaemin, when he’s decided to take up your challenge

so you indulge his mindless conversation, all the while subtly trailing your hand up his chest to its rightful place at the base of his neck as both of his own simply ensure your place between his figure and the railing, almost as if he's scared you'll suddenly run away you'd never, how could you?

pulling him closer with a deceptively slow pace, as if you're only just now noticing his oh so kissable lips. allowing yourself to miss a couple opportunities of making witty remarks at his words to make it seem as if you're lost in his vibrant, obsidian-like eyes and you could've sworn you saw the moon in them.. and.. wasn't it particularly beautiful then? as if his own beauty graciously rubbed off on the celestial entity

he takes the hint, finally, and without a single word, indulges you with a peck, lips meeting yours gently, softly. he breaks away rather quickly, much to your disappointment leading him to tell you to "use words to say what you want princess, y'know 'm not a mind reader"

"need you jaem," you find yourself complying, the promise of having him completely rendering your thinking capacity useless "need you to kiss me please"

and that's all he needs to dive in again, one hand gripping your waist and the other tilting your face upwards to meet his

the faint music of the party still rings in your ears, as your own arms clutch at his shoulders tighter, wanting to be closer, closer to him.

having to push him away, albeit unwillingly – because it feels so so painful to break apart from his soft, familiar embrace when for ages this is all that has consumed your thinking – when your breath fails you, a string of saliva stretching between your now slightly swollen lips; you gasp at the feeling of him placing feather-like kisses against your neck - not as a means to comfort, but to tease you, to rile you up further.. you attempt to distract yourself from how all your nerves seem to be on fire and yet are craving for more and more of his heat but your brain is only able to to take you back when you’d me jaemin for the first time, so blissfully unaware of how your entire soul would soon devote itself to him but due to your mind being afraid of “complications” would lead to a war within you, between your head and your heart

then a rather harsh bite right below your jaw jolts you back from your reverie, as if he knew your thoughts were wandering. that's definitely going to leave a mark

And now I'm all up on ya, what you expect? But you're not coming home with me tonight

the only half-coherent thought in jaemin’s head on the other hand, is : fuck this, there's no way you're not going home with him ♥♥♥

[pinkmoondoll9shihtzu]

How Do i even post about it ...

Ok so i mentioned in my previous post how two hummingbirds were circling me today when i got to the summit of the mountain, and i knew it was my father. But in that moment i was thinking, who is the 2nd one? And my thoughts were, Oh it must be another angel who's following him around

Well. I just opened up youtube and saw my favorite psychic posted a new reading, the title something like "Your father's spirit called upon an angel for your healing" .. I got shivers .. for context, i don't watch very many psychics as i don't find many of them to be trustworthy, but this girl is like on a totally different level her readings are always extremely specific & her energy is soooo beautiful like truly ethereal she is a true channeler , she also barely ever posts , you can tell it's not like a 'hustle' to her like she hadn't posted anything in like a month before this, idk she's just very sincere

the basic gist of the reading was, she said she sees "your father standing there, and to the side of him, a much larger figure, an angel" .. And he has called upon the angel to assist him, in assisting me, in healing this wound, as well as communication, because he does not have the power to heal it himself. (At one point she mentioned how he was not a spiritual person in life, he does not have psychic gifts, which is why he had to call upon this angel, which made me laugh cus it's true as fuck my dad hated all things woo-woo)

But i was like oh my god.... that was the 2nd hummingbird i saw earlier... i heard it in my mind.. There's another angel with him, but i didn't know who, and i even wondered why i didn't know who, because usually i know, when i see something and it has a message for me i know who it's from...

It's so crazy, she specified that "you lost your father very young" but also "you moved around a lot, part of the wound is that you've never been able to root in your life, you desire to root and establish something for yourself but the wound has kept you from this and that's what he's called upon this angel to heal for you" she also said the word "nomad" and i was like fully sobbing at this point cus. that's been my WHOLE life like from early childhood up until this exact moment, before and after he died, i move and move and move i never stay still ..

i've never had roots and when i'm feeling sorry for myself that's where my mind goes, "You never got to have roots". I see & know so many people who just have that they just have a home and a family they have a hometown they take it quite for granted to be known and familiar. it's like yeah i'll never see any of my childhood homes again even from the outside. i have like 5 childhood homes split in different countries. i dream of them and that's all there is.

But ok, she said like, omg dude. She said the angel is bringing you "freedom". And i fucking gasped even though that sounds vague as fuck, i have been repeatedly praying lately for My Perfect Freedom. Every night. A few weeks ago i finally took action into seeking legal help for my immigration situation and since then i've been receiving nothing but good news about it, better than i ever imagined. Especially in the past week. I'm not rly trying to talk about it online but i feel like it's important to note for the timing of this message that i literally AM getting my freedom and it's FELT angelic.

Like i've been feeling this new sense of vitality and hope and optimism in my heart that i can stay. I can just stay here. I never have to move again. I literally can root. i've been walking with denji every night, and i just look around at the neighborhood and the sky and the trees, i listen to the cicadas, i'm like holy shit, this is it, this is what it means to have joy, this is what it means to be present, nothing feels mundane, i'm just so happy to be here, i'm giving thanks every moment, i'm seeing my future unfold, the way i can get a job again, actually start saving up for a life that's real, tangible, the uncertainty i've lived with for my entire adult life is fading away, literally so recently like so so recently

and today at the mountaintop felt like a climax of this feeling, the gratitude, the panorama of opportunities, angels communicating, presentness, just not wanting or needing to be anywhere else, not needing to run away anymore

She said about how "you were best friends with your father" which i was, and she said "you share your gifts but he acknowledges you do it better than him" which cracked me up cus like. My father looooved drawing and photography which are obviously big things for me too, part of our friendship was that he pushed me to do art and make a real career of it like he wanted to.

i think i've spoken of this on here before but taking photos is something i do with him, not even like "im honoring him" but we literally do it together, it's a form of channeling. i think sometimes i channel him when i draw too but mostly my grandpa. My grandpa had very similar drawing style to me but my dad's was a little different. However when i see my dad's photography it's like yeah, we have the same eyes, physically and spiritually, same vision

Lol ok last thing she said that freaked me out was that i have a son waiting to be born who will be either my grandfather or great-grandfather reincarnate. And no joke i HAVE ALWAYS THOUGHT THIS !!!! Like its really the biggest reason i feel strongly compelled to have a child. I always thought it will be my great grandfather who died a few months before i was born. i really feel i have a son and a daughter waiting to come through and i can't deny them. i can't say it's true confirmation since it hasn't happened yet but it was just weird to hear her say that when it's something i've never even spoken of just a total hunch.

And having my children will be a huge milestone in healing this wound of almost 18 years since my dad's been gone. plus the lifelong wound of yearning to "root".

Like if what she says is really true that a new force has been summoned recently to assist me with this, it explains so much of what i've felt lately. i feel it's only come in in the past few weeks, definitely after pochita's surgery, maybe that's where my dad drew the line and said THAT'S IT WE'RE CALLING IN REINFORCEMENTS

She said whoever this father is he has a very sarcastic dry sense of humor about him. Just another lil confirmation idk hehe. The hummingbirds rly told me everything i needed to know though. in that moment i knew it was one of the craziest things that's ever happened to me even before seeing the reading but wow i rly didnt expect this. She said so much in the reading that felt like it was literally specific just for me. There's probably more i'm forgetting

Wow this is became a looooong post :) Don;t mind me. i've just.... i've been doing a lot of secret practice lately, a lot of things i don't talk about on tumblr, or tell anyone at all, because the silence gives it power. But this one i just felt called to document here for some reason. i don't question it. Goodnight fr this time....

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