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havethetimeofyourstyles · 4 years ago

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in which you and harry meet again after six months.

a/n: hiiii! this is for @theharriediaries fic challenge! the photo used is the one on the left of the banner, and the dialogue i chose was ‘Is this seat taken?’ ‘By you, I hope.’ & ‘I’m sorry it took us this long.’ thank you for creating this challenge, soph!

thank you @sunflowers-styles for beta reading this for me, mwah! <3

WORD COUNT: 12k of dad!harry with slight angst and fluff (pls appreciate the dilfrry dialogues in this lmao)

COME INTO MY INBOX AND LETS TALK ABOUT ‘THE TRAIN RIDE BACK TO US’ I’d love to know your thoughts!

pls rb to share! <3

The gold bell chimed quite loudly, informing the baristas that someone had entered their shop. The aroma of fresh ground coffee beans immediately filled your senses once you pushed open the sage green door as the smell feeling of nostalgia and comforted you.

Everything looked the same in the coffee shop. The oak wood floor never changed with coffee stains in certain areas that didn’t quite seem to come off all the way, no matter how hard the employees scrubbed—but it gave the shop character, in your opinion. Different colored potted plants filled the shop in every corner and on the clean white windowsill, making the place look lively. Crisp oxygen mixed with Columbian coffee beans flowed around the shop, making customers want to come back to a comfortable environment. Black and white bistro tables sat within the café, with silver metal bases, holding the circular table tops up as they alternated with colors along the built-in brown bench against the light-gray colored wall; with matching black and white metal chairs that practically screeched against the oak wood floors when someone was trying to scoot in or out of the table.

The entire shop was the exact same from what you remembered it to be six months ago. The only difference was that when you sat on the wooden bench, specifically at the black table in the corner that was right next to the window, the person who was supposed to be in front of you wouldn’t be there; and for that, your heart dropped a little.

Trying not to think too much about your change of mood, you ordered your usual—an iced mocha latte with a pump of sweet vanilla syrup—before you paid and turned around to see which tables were available. The usual corner table was staring right at you, practically mocking you, and you wished that the table was occupied, but then you would’ve felt wrong sitting at a different table when yours was clearly open.

You took your seat on the bench, and almost immediately, you started shaking your leg underneath the table. Your seat felt hot, as if the wood was catching fire underneath you, burning your legs and making you antsy.

Luckily, the shop wasn’t crowded so it took the baristas less than six minutes to make your drink and to call out your name from behind the counter. Quickly, standing up from the burning hot seat, you made your way to the counter, thanking Mel for the drink. Since coming here, you had become quite a constant in the cute Portland coffee shop. Mel was one of the employees that had worked at the shop the longest, so she made everyone’s drinks because she knew the menu the best. So, you caught up with her a bit, and inevitably, she asked where you had been.

“You didn’t find a better coffee shop did you?” She teased, making you chuckle.

“No, I’ve just been, uh, too busy to come around. But I promise, your drinks and shop are still the best,” you said truthfully, to which she beamed. To this day, you hadn’t found a superior coffee shop than ‘Coava’ because the others just didn’t compare—they didn’t make you feel the same way you did with this one. “But thanks for the coffee.” You gave her one last smile before you turned around to make your way back to your table.

And then the bell chimed.

It was as if the sun was peeking out through the clouds; the sun beams strongly pointed down onto the wet pavement after a night of rain, leaving the air with its pleasant smell of petrichor. He was the light that seeped through the curtains, and you knew it was going to be a lovely day.

“Harry…” you stopped in your tracks, careful not to spill the contents of your coffee cup. Your heart skipped several beats once he flashed you his gorgeous smile that you were still hopelessly in love with.

“Hi, Y/N.” Harry mindlessly played with the buttons of his coat as he mentally tried to situate the nerves in his head and stomach. His breath felt like it was stuck in his throat, making his voice slightly trail off with a crack to the tone.

It felt like the two of you were the only ones in the coffee shop—minus the locals who were sitting at the tables, minding their own business, or wondering what the fuck they were doing standing in the middle of the shop—completely and fully captured by the other’s stare and presence.

The loud screeching noise of steam took you out of your dazy trance as you cleared your throat. Harry looked down at his feet before looking up at you through his lashes, shyly intertwining his hands behind his back.

“Uh, would you like to join me?”

Harry raised his brows at your proposal, pursing his lips to contain his giddy excitement. “S-Sure.” You took a deep breath before you started to walk towards the table in the corner—one he was also very familiar with. “This seat...Is this seat taken?” He asked politely but, almost instantly, mentally cursed himself because you wouldn’t have invited him if you were with someone.

You didn’t catch his slip up, instead, you smiled as your face grew warm. “By you, I hope.” Harry blushed, taking a seat on the black metal chair across from you.

“So, how’ve you been? It’s been a while since I last saw you,” you mentioned.

It’d been six months since the last time you saw and sat in front of Harry—a very long six months. The conversation six months ago wasn’t the most happiest of memories because that conversation brought in the heartache and heartbreak; the chat had included the mutual separation of your relationship that involved tears, chest pain, and as always, the smell of Colombian coffee that surrounded your afflictive conversation, hoping it would calm the tension between you two.

“Yeah, it has been a while, but I’m doing okay. How are you?”

“I’m good.” There was a bit of awkwardness swirling in the air, and you absolutely despised it—you wanted it to leave the shop and never return. You had always imagined what it would be like bumping into Harry again, more importantly, what you would say to him. And despite all those moments daydreaming of finding the right words, you were completely stuck, and you fully blamed it on the awkward tension. “Can we not be…y’know, awkward? That’s not us,” you simply said.

Harry let out a sigh of relief, adding a breathy laugh. “Yes, yes, of course. You’re right, that isn’t us at all.” Mel brought him an iced black coffee since it was his usual, and she saw that he didn’t get the chance to order because he was immediately occupied by the sight of you. He softly thanked her with a smile, only taking his attention off of you for a split second before his eyes were right back on you; he didn’t know what this conversation would lead to, nor did he want to get his hopes up, so that meant spending every moment with his complete attention and eyes averted to you. “I miss you…” he said.

There was a sense of relief as you exhaled deeply, glad that he wasn’t the only one who was missing the other. His words had brought a flutter of butterflies to your stomach, soaring as they pleased while your face felt warm.

You and Harry had been together for a year and a half before calling it quits. For most of the relationship, it was happiness and bliss—occasional fights, but they weren’t frequent—towards the last few months however, things were getting a bit stressful. You remembered the days like it was yesterday as the vivid memory crept inside of your head...

It was nearing nine in the evening and the house was quiet. The silence was louder than the ongoing noise inside your head that was constantly yelling at you, making your head ache from the incessant thoughts. It was safe to say that you weren’t happy, and that even Harry wasn’t happy either. But you had only gotten a glimpse of him during the evening, so you were simply assuming that he wasn’t content—but it was a very logical assumption since every time he looked at you, it seemed like he was becoming more stressed out by the minute; as if he didn’t already have a lot on his plate during the day, and by night, he would still have to deal with whatever argument and fight either of you would pick for no apparent reason.

It started with petty little arguments, getting annoyed and frustrated at the other because of burnt toast or something as small as running out of detergent for the laundry. But fighting over nothing had turned into completely confessing that you weren’t happy anymore, and that the exhaustion had gotten to you.

“I-I don’t know if I can do this anymore, Harry,” you said in between your sobs that you tried to contain. “All we’re doing is hurting each other—we’re not even happy together anymore!”

It felt like his heart was exploding, but it was the truth. “Darling…”

“You can’t lie and tell me that we’re happy together because it’s obvious that we’re not.” You wiped the tears from your face, leaving your skin damp from the moisture.

Harry sighed deeply, knowing he couldn’t argue anymore. He felt defeated and upset with himself; it was like he was doing well in everything else or at least trying, and he couldn’t even do his part in being a good boyfriend to you. He knew part of the reason why both of you weren’t happy was because of the neglectance, and both of you were too exhausted to even communicate that feeling. You two were both independent entrepreneurs—always knowing when to close business and how to make a well deserved investment or sale with others who were trying to buy whatever stock or product. But when it came down to each other, to Y/N and Harry, it seemed like the individuals that were trying to please and charm others had dissipated, leaving no room or patience for each other.

“We’re both busy, Harry, I get that. And maybe it’s best if we call it quits until everything settles down—until we both know what we want—”

“I want you,” he interrupted.

You softly huffed, looking down at your lap as you slightly nodded before you looked up at him again. He had tears streaming down his face and more forming in his eyes; you loved that he wasn’t embarrassed or afraid to show his true emotions—he was being vulnerable every time he let his guard down, and for that, you would appreciate him forever.

Muffled, static cracks followed by quiet little groans were heard from the baby monitor on the coffee table. Harry glanced at it before looking back at you, knowing he had to take care of his number one priority, and who were you to stop him? So, you nodded, tilting your head towards the room, and he sadly smiled before heading towards the nursery.

You walked over to the kitchen counter, grabbed a pen and paper, and wrote ‘Meet me at Coava tomorrow. Usual time.’ before you placed it on the coffee table beside the monitor. As you were leaving, you heard soft humming coming from the baby monitor, and your heart squeezed, frowning as this was most likely going to be the last time you were going to be in this house. Taking one look around, you took in all of the memories that you made in the building that made you feel safe and warm before you stepped out, immediately welcomed by the cool temperatures of the evening.

The next afternoon when you walked into Coava, Harry was already sitting at the usual table you two sat at. His head was down, mindlessly wiping down the condensation that formed outside of his glass. You took a seat in front of him without saying a word, making him look up. He had dark circles around eyes as he hadn’t gotten much sleep.

“Hi,” you whispered. There was your usual cup of iced coffee placed in front of you. “Thank you for the coffee.”

He nodded and smiled softly, despite his current mood. “Hello.”

You took a deep breath. “So…where do we go from here?”

Harry sadly looked at you with desperation in his eyes that spoke, no, begged you to tell him to stay, to tell him that you two could and would work this out. But it seemed like you hadn’t received that specific message from his green and sorrowful eyes.

“You were right…We haven’t been able to make time for one another. So, we’ll just…take some time apart.” His heart and voice cracked at the end of his sentence, finding it hard to even form a sentence that didn’t absolutely break him. You nodded, agreeing, but it didn’t hurt any less; you knew this would be best for the two of you because both of you had to focus on yourselves, especially when Harry had his priorities, such as his family, which you weren’t going to make him change whatsoever. “Okay…so, we’re over.” He hadn’t said it as a question but rather a way to see that realization.

You reached across the table, placing your hand on his, and you were lucky that he didn’t pull away. “Harry, this doesn’t mean that I don’t love you. I…will always love you.”

“And I’ll always love you too,” he said honestly.

Behind the civil and mature conversation that occurred, there was sadness and heartbreak. There were no more smiles or laughs, no more love and affection, or anymore meet-ups during lunch or coffee dates during breaks. The painful look on Harry’s face had only pained you even more, but you both knew this split-up and time apart was for the best.

That was six months ago.

Now, as you sat across Harry, you felt an overwhelming rush of relief and joy; he just looked happier and you saw a familiar glint in his eyes as he looked at you. It may not be the same sparkle of love as it once was, which you were afraid it wasn’t, but there was still some kind of sparkle—the kind someone would give when they reunite with an old friend.

“The kids miss you—they miss you a lot.”

Your eyes look at him fondly at the mention of his children. “Really?”

“Yeah, they do. They said, and I quote, they miss their ‘pretty fairy second mom,’” Harry said quite proudly.

Harry had three kids that you absolutely adored. There was Mira and Estelle, seven-year-old twins that looked like their father. Mira was very energetic and talkative—that little girl could talk for hours on end without missing a beat; Estelle was more quiet and reserved, but once you started hanging around, she opened up and was quite fun to have a laugh with. Then there was the sweet little two-year-old boy, Rory, who resembled his mother. He was always babbling and giggling, so happy and free.

If Harry was being honest, Rory was a complete accident. Him and his ex had separated and broken up when the twins were four, but they were still seeing each other. Those occasional hangouts led to another child, which they both thought would help them bond, but six months into the pregnancy, they both knew it wasn’t right anymore—not like before. So, they stuck to coparenting and, if they were speaking the truth, it was much better than being together.

When Rory was six months old, that was when Harry met you. On an unexpected literal run in the park when you and Harry were on your daily runs, the trail was only narrow and small enough for one person to run. So, when you and Harry were running towards each other, you braced yourself for the awkwardness you were about to face with the man. Harry politely smiled, moving to his left, only for you to move to your right, which made you both giggle. The two of you then moved to the opposite side, only to clash again. The thought was quite hilarious to the two of you, so you both started laughing, clutching your stomachs. Once you two calmed down, Harry then said that he was going to his left, so you moved to your left, running the opposite directions from each other.

At the end of the trail and on your way to the parking lot, you saw Harry finish the same trail but exit from the other side. And if it said anything more, you parked right next to his car as well. Harry smiled, dimples flashing and asked you how your run was, which then led to a bit of small talk. In the six minutes you two were talking, Harry made the impulsive decision to ask you if you would like some coffee. He wouldn’t have asked if it were anyone else, and until that moment he didn’t even know if he was ready to date again. But he took the chance and decided to ask you, and luckily, you said yes.

The rest was history.

“I miss them so much too.” You smiled softly, thinking about the kids that you had thought of as your own.

“I, uh, I know it’s too much to ask, but I figured I should ask either way…Would you like to see them? Mira would never live it down if I told them that I saw you and didn’t ask if you wanted to see them.” He added a chuckle at the end, nerves creeping up his skin.

Your eyes lit up. “Really? You’d let me see them?”

Harry raised his brows. “Yeah, of course! You could see them anytime you want, if you’d like. Just because we’re not, y’know, together doesn’t mean that you can’t see them. I know how much you love them and how much they love you too,” he reassured.

“Would Laurie be okay with that?” You asked about his ex and the mother of said children.

He nodded. “Yeah, she would. I mean, she also knows how much they love you.” Harry was lucky that the mother of his children and his ex was so kind and chill with having someone that Harry loved be ‘another mother’ to her children; all Laurie really asked of you was to not try and replace her role as their mom and to always keep them safe when she wasn’t around, and who were you to disrespect her wishes?

“Harry, I would love to, thank you. I really do miss them.” You felt yourself getting a bit emotional because of how much you missed the kids, and it’d felt like an eternity since you last saw them.

“Great! Tomorrow is the weekend, so are you free to go to the park and maybe get some ice cream after?”

“Yeah, that sounds like a plan.” You smiled, not too widely as you tried to contain your excitement.

Harry smiled back at you before quickly looking at his phone to check the time. “I gotta get back. But I’ll see you tomorrow and will text you the details tonight.”

“Okay, see you soon.” You stood up to hug him, and his arm immediately wrapped around your waist, hugging you to his chest. His stomach was doing flips as he felt your breath against the crook of his neck. He didn’t want the moment to end, and it was the most physical contact that you two had in six months.

Pulling away, he offered you a smile before bidding you goodbye, and you finally let out the breath you had been holding the moment the bell chimed and the man you still loved walked in.

A soft blush was planted on Harry’s cheeks for the entire day. He was driving from work to Laurie’s house to pick up his beloved children as he thought about how his day turned out to be.

In all honesty, he hadn’t expected to see you in the coffee shop that you two had gone to throughout the entirety of your relationship. He had just gotten out of a meeting and was debating on going to Coava because he hadn’t been there since the day you two called it quits, but he figured it was time and thought that maybe reminiscing on the memories you two had with each other wasn’t a bad thing. So, he walked into that shop thinking he was just going to get a coffee to-go, but he had gone in there and left with something so much better.

The moment his eyes landed on yours his mind had screamed and reassured him that he wasn’t just dreaming that you were standing right in front of him, he felt his stomach drop in the best way. The heat had rushed to his cheeks, tugging on the corners of his lips, urging his mouth to smile, and he did not hold back his joy when he saw you. You were beautiful, just like he remembered, but he had no doubt that there wasn’t a day that went by where you weren’t not absolutely stunning.

And the giddy feeling he felt when he asked you if you’d like to see the kids made his heart tumble inside of his chest as he couldn’t wait for you and the kids to finally see each other again.

Harry pulled into Laurie’s driveway, and he quickly got out and knocked on the door, waiting for Laurie to answer. He chuckled as he could practically hear the twins screaming from across the house to make sure they had everything they needed. When the door opened, he was met by his ex that he once loved, and still had some platonic love for her, naturally, as the mother of his children.

“Hey, Harry! They’re just getting their stuff ready,” she greeted with a smile, opening the door wider as she walked away from the entrance and let him in. She grabbed Rory from the couch, who was mindlessly playing with a giant puzzle piece, and gave him many kisses to his cheeks before saying goodbye to her son and handing him off to Harry.

Rory’s eyes lightened up at the sight of his father. “Dada!”

“Hi, my sweet boy. I’ve missed you.” He placed soft kisses to his chubby and squeezable cheeks.

“Girls, dad’s waiting!” Laurie called out from the bottom of the stairway before turning back towards Harry. “Why do you look like that?” She gave him a knowing look.

“Like what?” Harry asked, acting like he didn’t know what she was talking about. The blush really gave him away, he thought.

“You’re just…extra happy today.”

“Can’t I be happy, Laurie? To see my kids?” He teased, smirking as he hugged Rory to his chest.

“I mean, sure, but…did something happen today?”

His smile widened, and it was like he couldn’t contain the exciting feeling anymore and he just had to tell someone. “I saw Y/N today.”

Her brows raised. “Really? How is she?”

“She’s doing well, yeah. We talked for a little bit.” Was all that he told her.

“And I’m assuming it went well.” He nodded, not wanting to tell her more. “Well, that’s great, Harry. She was, is, a lovely woman and she took care of the kids, so that’s all that matters to me,” Laurie said genuinely; she wasn’t jealous, if she was being honest. All that mattered to her was that her kids were in good hands.

Suddenly more footsteps were coming down the stairs. “Dad!” The twins yelled at the same time. He put Rory down for a moment before he bent down to hug his two girls.

“Hi, my loves. How are you?” He kissed both of their cheeks, making their small arms hug him tighter.

“Dad, I scored one hundred percent on all my spelling tests, so I’m qualified for the spelling bee!” Mira explained excitedly once she let go of Harry.

“Really?! That’s amazing, bug. This week, I’ll help you study for it.” Mira beamed at that before walking over to her mom to say bye.

“How are you, my sunshine?” He directly asked Estelle, knowing that she was specifically waiting for Harry to have his attention on only her. Even though she’d never told him that, he could tell that sometimes Estelle lets Mira have her moment and wanted to speak with Harry when no one else was paying attention.

“I’m good. My teacher told me I could become a math…mathmat—daddy, what are they called?” She looked at Harry for help.

“Look at you, sunshine! I’m so proud of you my little mathematician.” Estelle’s eyes widened. “Is that you meant mathematician, sweetheart?” He smiled.

“Yes, that! I did good on my math test and even baked cookies for you!” Before Harry could say anything, Estelle ran off to the kitchen to grab the plate of cookies she baked last night.

“Alright, babies, let’s go. Say bye to mommy.” The kids said their goodbyes before Harry safely buckled them into their car seats and drove home for a week at their father’s.

When all four of them reached the front door, Harry told the twins to put their belongings away and wash up for dinner. He set Rory down in his high chair before cutting up some bananas in halves, and placing them on the plastic table in front of him for his pre-dinner snack. Knowing that his kids liked home cooked meals better than takeout, fortunately, he set out the ingredients to make some fried rice, which was quick and easy.

The twins rushed down the stairs once Harry put the leftover rice into the pan filled with sautéed veggies, and they settled onto the couch in front of the TV, waiting for dinner.

“Loves, set the table for me, please!” He called out from the kitchen as he transferred the rice from the pan to a large bowl, topping it with green onions. The girls each had a task for setting the table; Mira was in charge of forks and spoons, and Estelle handled the plates since she was less clums. He rolled Rory’s high chair over to the table, which he was so lucky to have gotten a high chair with wheels because it was so much easier to move him without carrying him and the chair; and he gave everyone an equal scoop, depending on how much they ate, and if they wanted seconds, he would be glad to serve them more.

As they ate, Harry was occasionally helping Rory eat the rice, just picking up the contents that didn’t make it into his mouth, as Estelle and Mira both took turns talking. Harry loved family dinner, he tried his very best to give all three of his children the attention that they deserved, but dinner was the one time they bonded the most because no one felt competitive or had the urge to start an argument when there was food in front of them.

“Daddy, how was your day?” Estelle asked curiously, and Harry smiled at his sunshine, as if she was the sun itself, heart swooning.

“It was great, thanks for asking, my love.” He placed his spoon on his plate. “I actually wanted to talk to you all about something.” The twins didn’t respond, just stared at him, encouraging him to continue. “Do you remember Y/N?” Just at the sound of your name, the crowd went absolutely wild.

“Y/N, yes!” Screamed Estelle, which was rare for her to raise her voice.

“Pretty, fairy second mom, of course we remember her, dad!” Mira exclaimed obviously.

“Fairy!” Rory had repeated the only word he could make out from Mira’s mouth as he fussed because of the volume that had increased from his sisters.

Harry laughed. “Alright, okay, settle down. Well, I saw her today.” The twins gasped, making him chuckle. It genuinely felt like he was on a talk show with a live audience. “And I wanted to ask you all if you wanted to see her tomorrow? Figured we could go to the park and get some ice cream together?” He asked hesitantly, even though he knew they’d say yes, and he’d get another chance to see you again.

“Yes!” The girls both answered.

Harry beamed, turning to Rory. “Bubba, remember Y/N? Your slide friend? Remember you used to go on the slide with Y/N?” Rory giggled, a sound that was Harry’s weakness, and nodded. “Do you wanna see her tomorrow?”

“Slide with fairy?” Rory asked, and Harry laughed.

“Yes, slide with fairy,” he confirmed, and Rory nodded his head eagerly.

Harry smiled, glad his kids were with the plans tomorrow. The rest of the dinner was filled with the twins talking about you; they talked about what you all could do together at the park and what they wanted to show you, and Harry would be lucky if they slept through the entire night without continuously waking up because of their excitement for the upcoming afternoon.

Once everything was cleaned up and put away, the twins washed and cleaned, Harry give Rory a bath, and everyone was ready for bed, Harry said good night to his babies, spending about five minutes cuddling and talking them to sleep until they fluttered their eyes closed and off to slumber.

Sighing, Harry closed his door, leaving the baby monitor from Rory’s room on his bedside table before he was able to unwind for the day. He always spent an extra amount of time on his skin care routine, figuring that he sometimes didn’t have time for himself and the only time he had was during nights.

When he was ready for bed, he felt a huge amount of relief to be getting into bed after a long but grateful day, and he picked up his phone and clicked on your message thread. The last time you two texted was a few weeks after the breakup, asking if you were doing okay, and he could practically feel the awkward tension through the texts as he reread them. But he was glad that this time would be a much lighter and better conversation.

Hi, Y/N. Hope this is the right number still. But if it is, kids are on board for tomorrow. Does 12:30 work for you? We could meet at the usual park. If it’s not Y/N, please don’t meet at the usual park because the kids are not on board.

You chuckled at the end of his text, happy to see that Harry is always trying to make jokes and be the comedian.

Hi, Harry! Don’t worry, this is Y/N. Probably would have hunted the person with my number down to get tomorrow’s plans. But that sounds perfect! I can't wait to see the kids tomorrow. See you then!

Harry softly smiled at his phone, not feeling the need to respond and figured he would talk to you a lot more tomorrow while the kids are playing. He stared at the message for quite some time, completely blank as he couldn’t believe the chances that he happened to see you at the shop six months after the breakup, and now he’s making plans with you tomorrow; his jaw was aching from smiling so much.

A few minutes later, he put his phone away to change before he comfortably situated himself under the blanket, feeling the heaviness of his eyes. But once he felt himself starting to drift away into dreamland, his phone buzzed on his nightstand, and he tried his best to ignore it, but curiosity got the best of him, so he picked up his phone and opened the new message.

And I can’t wait to see you tomorrow too.

And just like that, Harry was wide awake, struggling to sleep, but a smile permanently etched on his face for the night.

The day that everyone in the Styles’ household had been waiting for had finally arrived. Luckily, the kids had gotten their needed hours of sleep; Harry had only gotten a few hours of sleep, but when the sun seeped through his curtains, he didn’t dread getting up for the day. Instead, he felt a rush of eagerness, instantly remembering what the day held for him and his kids, and he jumped right out of bed.

Once the four of them were out of the house, Harry had successfully fed, cleaned, and changed his children with no complaints. The house and car ride was filled with conversations about how excited they were to see you again, asking how many more hours there was until they got to see you and if they were almost at the park.

Screams bounced off the roof of the car once Harry parked on the side of the curb; the twins had already taken their seatbelts off, getting antsy as they waited for their dad to open the car from the outside. Harry unbuckled Rory, carrying him until he rounded on the other side of the car to open the door for the twins. They quickly jumped out, clearly excited, but Harry did not forget to remind them that this was still a public area and anything could happen.

“Girls, slow down, please.” Estelle was holding Harry’s hand as Mira was holding her sister’s; Harry was still carrying Rory in his arms because his sister’s were practically lugging Harry with all their might, trying to get to their usual spot, so he didn’t want Rory to get hurt. “Loves, you know Y/N would tell you the exact same thing. Please, just slow down for me.” He pulled the Y/N card on them, knowing that they were better listeners with you than they are with him.

Once they were all close enough, they spotted a thick beige blanket under the tree with a picnic basket, and you sitting on top of it, setting everything up.

“Y/N!” The girls both screamed, Estelle letting go of Harry’s hand as they both ran towards you.

You looked up at the sound of your name, eyes brightening at the little girls running. “My Princesses! Hi, my loves!” You opened your arms widely, inviting the twins into your arms— they practically collided into your arms, making you fall onto your back since you didn’t get the chance to stand up—and embracing them with a big hug. Laughs came out of all of your mouths as wide smiles permanently stayed on your faces. “Oh, I missed you two so much!” You kissed both of their cheeks, making them giggle. You stood up, helping the girls up and brushed their clothes off with your hand from the grass. Harry and Rory were in sight, and Harry put the little boy down, making Rory run towards you. “My sweetheart, oh, you’ve gotten so big.” You hugged Rory to your chest, placing your hand behind his head as your other arm wrapped around his small body.

You were glad that Rory still had some memory of you, and didn’t shy away behind his father’s leg. You placed soft kisses on his cheeks, taking in his baby scent that you always loved.

After Rory was starting to fuss in your arms, most likely due to feeling overwhelmed from the lack of space, you let go of him before standing up.

“Hi, Y/N,” Harry greeted, offering a hug, which you gladly took.

You rubbed his back. “Hi, Harry. I’m so glad I’m here with you all.” You pulled away, smiling at him. Harry’s heart pounded against his chest at the sight of you smiling up at him. His heart did a backflip at the sight of your gorgeous smile, trickling all the way down to his stomach where it triggered the butterflies to release from the net.

“Please, we were all really excited to see you. So, thank you for agreeing.” His hand innocently ran down your arm, sending shivers down your spine.

You turned around to look at the kids who were making themselves comfortable on the blanket. You and Harry joined them as you sat in between Estelle and Rory, and Harry sat in between Mira and Rory.

“Okay, so I made some sandwiches. You all still like grilled cheese, right?” You hoped, and the twins nodded; you turned towards Rory. “What about you, sweet pea? Grilled cheese?” At the sound of cheese, Rory nodded his head and clapped his hands, making you smile.

Harry was so lost in his mind and heart that he was simply so distracted in helping you out as you unwrapped the sandwiches from the foil, putting them on a paper plate. He was just so fond of watching you interact with his children so naturally, like there was no time that was wasted when you and Harry were apart. And he was especially happy that the kids still loved you just as much as they did when you two were together; and how they still kept talking about you despite the breakup.

Aside from you and Harry, the kids had taken the breakup the hardest. From the knowledge they had based on what Harry and Laurie told them, they understood that their mommy and daddy couldn’t be together anymore due to adult reasons; it took them a while to adjust to that, but they eventually managed and figured it was better and more fun. But when Harry had to break the news on why they wouldn’t be seeing their ‘Pretty Fairy Second Mom’ anymore, they took it harder than expected. They simply looked at it as you didn’t want to see them anymore, which wasn’t the case at all, Harry explained.

“Sometimes adults need to take some time apart, loves. That does not mean that Y/N doesn’t love you anymore because she does very much, I can tell you that. But it's good to have some time to yourself, especially in a relationship.”

“But daddy, I thought you were gonna be together forever with Y/N,” Estelle spoke up, tears in her eyes. He was lucky that his kids loved you so much, and he never doubted that they weren’t going to. But his fear had come true when you two called it quits and he had to tell them the truth.

“And maybe we will, but as for right now, it’s best to be apart. Sometimes being apart saves the relationship rather than letting it burn,” he told them honestly, which was the best as he could explain it.

“D-Does Y/N still love you?” Mira asked softly. It wasn’t like Mira to be so soft spoken, which meant that the breakup had affected her deeply.

Harry sighed, grabbing both of their small hands. “She does,” he replied for the sake of more tears coming out of their eyes—plus, he was taking your word for it back at the cafe. “And she also loves you all so much too,” he reminded them again. What he really wanted to say was that maybe one day you two will get back together, but he really didn’t want to get their hopes up.

Looking back on his conversation from half a year ago, he was glad that he told them the truth on why you two broke up. He didn’t want to confuse his children even further, making them completely oblivious to the situation—he just wanted to be honest with them because he hoped you two would meet again and get back together at some point.

“Harry, would you like one?” You asked, bringing Harry back out of his thoughts. He smiled, nodding, not trusting his voice to speak; and you gladly handed him a plate with a sandwich, pouring some chips onto the side—his favorite chips, you still remembered.

“Thank you.” He smiled softly. The corners of your lips turned up as you bashfully looked at the picnic basket in front of you. You placed Rory’s plate in front of him as he seemed to have crawled to sit closer to you, and you cut out his sandwich into small pieces, along with cutting his grapes in half. “Oh, you don’t have to do that.” He stopped you from what you were doing, ready to take Rory from your side as he didn’t want you to feel obligated to take care of him.

“Oh, if you don’t want me to, that’s fine. But I wouldn’t mind feeding him a bit.”

“If you want to.”

You gave him the sweetest grin, and Harry was lucky to be sitting down because his knees would give out on him if he were standing. “I want to.” He only nodded, a crimson color laid on his cheeks.

Harry comfortably watched as you made conversation with the twins as you fed Rory. You always gave them your undivided attention; your expression always lit up everytime they talked about something they were passionate about or interested in, and it just made Harry fall even more with how you were always so supportive in what his kids loved. You were always uplifting them, never dragging their hopes and dreams down.

After everyone was finished with their meals and had time to digest their food, the twins asked if they could go on the swings and Harry said yes. The tree that they were under was only a few feet away, so Harry had a clear view of his girls.

“You’re, like, a magician.” Harry suddenly said, breaking the silence once the girls were safely on the swing.

You chuckled. “How’s that?”

“It’s like hiring a magician at a party—everyone is so excited to see what they do and see them in general—you’re like that; the girls and Rory were so excited to see you.”

You playfully gasped, holding Rory to your chest. “You were excited to see me? Well, I was excited to see you!” You booped his nose, making Rory giggle.

“Fairy!” He exclaimed, and you and Harry laughed. Rory was a quiet two-year-old, but he picked up on keywords that he repeatedly said.

“So, are you seeing anyone?” You cut to the chase, skipping the small talk.

Harry chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Nope. Not entirely sure if anyone wants to date a thirty-four-year-old with three kids.”

You raised your brows in shock, and he knew that look you’re giving him very well—prepared to tease him; even though you weren’t that much younger than him either. “What? Do you think no one wants to date a hot dad? Harry, you’re peak-dilf, everyone wants to date you.”

“And what about you? Do you wanna date me? A dilf?” He teased; a smirk that you knew all too well appeared on his face, making you want to kiss it off, which was what you used to do.

Pursing your lips and cheeks heating up, you gave him an obvious look before you said, “Think you know the answer to that one, baby.” In all honesty, the pet name had slipped, and for a brief moment your eyes widened at the realization, but you brushed it off and continued with your confident and teasing attitude; and it worked quite well on Harry because he definitely heard what you used to call him loud and clear. It made his heart flutter as he missed you calling him that; he never wanted to hear that name come out of anyone else’s mouth because only yours would do it justice.

Harry was left to ponder about your response before you changed the subject, talking to Rory. “Sweets, do you wanna go on the slide?” The little boy jumped up and down, pulling your arm as he had a big smile on his face. You looked at Harry, and he gave you a nod, telling you that he would stay put and watch your belongings.

You and Rory walked hand in hand, or more like hand and finger, to the slide. It was an open purple slide with two sides, and it lasted about two seconds if you slid correctly and if the slide was slippery enough. You helped Rory step onto the playground as the dull metal steps were quite high for him to reach on his own before you guided him towards the slide.

Sitting down at the top and on the edge of the slide, you carried Rory into your lap, hyping him up for what he had been waiting for. “Ready, sweets? Are you ready?” Your tone was pure excitement as you squeezed and tickled his belly.

“Go, Y/N, go!” Directed Rory, and you scooted forward and held onto the sweet boy in your arms tightly as you two slid down the slide. Mouthfuls of squealing screams and giggles came from Rory’s mouth as he clapped his hands towards the end of the slide, causing you to cheer as well.

And the proper dad that he was, Harry clicked the red button on the screen to stop recording you and Rory from the slide. He zoomed in, capturing the bright smiles placed on his sweet boy’s and the love of his life’s face, screenshotting the perfect frame. He didn’t think the day could have gone any better than this; it was quite the perfect day, he thought.

When it was rounding two in the afternoon, Rory’s eyes were starting to droop, exhaustion taking over him from running around for almost an hour that his little body couldn’t keep up, so a nap was in his favor. He lazily looked up at you, reaching his arms up for you to carry him, which you happily held him. He settled his head on your shoulder, and it only took a few kisses and back rubs for him to be out like a light while the sun still shined in his face.

You walked over to the blanket, figuring it was time to call it a day at the park; Harry and the twins were running around nearby on the bedded grass area playing tag. They retreated to the blanket once they saw you with Rory in your arms, breaths heavy from their run.

“Oh, my sweet, sweet boy.” Harry sighed when he got to spot under the tree; you handed Rory to him, admiring the two boys cuddling as Harry pressed quiet and soft kisses to his son’s head. Since your lap was available, Estelle and Mira took the chance to finally be able to properly cuddle you since Rory was taking most of your attention. The girls took one leg each, and you wrapped your arms around their waist, kissing their shoulder.

The five of you stayed put for a while, calming down under the breezy weather that had started to pick up until it got even colder was when Harry decided it was time to leave. Luckily the girls were still awake to help with cleaning up, and were rather helpful because Harry was trying his best with Rory situated on one side of his body.

Once all of you were next to your cars, Harry placed Rory in his car seat as you were hugging the girls goodbye. You and Harry agreed that everyone was too tired to go out for some ice cream since all the twins wanted to do was lie down. Harry knew he didn’t want the day to end, even though it was still quite early, but the older he got, the tougher it was to keep up with his little children who just loved running around; a relaxing and peaceful night was calling him.

“Hey.” Harry closed the passenger door before he rounded the car to meet you on the grass. “I know we talked about going for ice cream today, but it seemed like we’re all too tired, but I was wondering…” he paused for a moment, a bit of hesitancy in his voice. “Would you like to come over? Maybe…for dinner, or to have a glass or w-water?” He scratched the back of his neck, nerves getting the best of him.

You smiled, thinking he was the absolute cutest when he was flustered. “Harry, I’d love to. Feels like I haven’t drank any water so I’m parched,” you teased.

He breathed out a laugh. “Okay, uh, I’ll see you home.” He gave you another smile before walking away and inside of his car, completely unaware of his choice of words.

Home. More specifically, Harry’s home. It was a place that made you feel safe, and if you’re being honest, it’s been too long since you’d had complete solace.

Your mental pep-talk throughout the drive toward Harry’s had helped in some way. Keeping it simple without driving your mind into overthinking every single thought, you laid it all down as if you were planning and preparing a business proposal.

You didn’t want to dive deep into what Harry’s invitation could entail—more like you didn’t want to get your hopes up on if you two were to get back together because the potential rejection you could face would absolutely crush you. Harry’s a kind and sweet guy, he’s simply inviting a friend over for a drink and dinner, if you could even call yourself that. Plus, it was still early to fully call it a day, and he planned for ice cream after the park, so he was fulfilling that promise of sweet dessert.

Without realizing, you’d been sitting in your car for a solid five minutes, staring over your steering wheel as you were parked on the curb in front of Harry’s house. Harry’s car was already in the driveway, so they were just waiting on you.

You walked towards the front door, and it swung open before you even got the chance to knock.

“Hey, thought you’d change your mind when you weren’t getting out of the car,” Harry joked, although that thought really crossed his mind when he peeked out through the window and saw you still in your car.

You chuckled nervously. “Oh, no. I wouldn’t.” You stepped inside his house, and a wave of nostalgia rushed through you as if you were at the beach and the harsh current knocked you over as you were trying to walk against the sandy wind.

Everything still looked the same—the same since the night you left without another word to the kids, just a note to Harry telling you to meet at the shop. A pinch of guilt appeared in your face as you frowned, and Harry immediately took notice, but you waved it off as you slightly smiled, telling him that you two would talk later. He didn’t press any further, waiting until later or when you were ready. Instead, he asked if you wanted anything to drink, to which he already knew you’d go for a class of Cabernet, and luckily, he had some in stock—more like, he still had the untouched bottle for when you stayed over.

The two of you leaned against the cold granite counter as music softly played on the speaker that was connected through Bluetooth on his phone. Conversations were light, but it wasn’t awkward in any sense. As a matter of fact, it felt just like old times when you would stay over his house, talking about each other’s day and simply enjoying the presence of one another. That’s what you think this was, you thought—enjoying the fact that Harry was in front of you after so many months and you were cherishing it until the next set of months went by.

After a few conversations and sips of wine later, the time had gone by fairly fast, which always happened when you were with him, and it was nearing five. The kids had woken up from their nap at four and quietly settled in the living room—the twins on the couch in front of the television and Rory was on the padded mat playing with his toys, occasionally talking to his sisters. Harry asked if you would be okay watching them so he could make dinner, and you were close to reminding him that he didn’t need to ask to watch his kids, but then again, you had to remind yourself that things were a bit different now. So, you said that you didn’t mind and walked over to the sofa chair next to the couch and watched TV with the girls as well as play with Rory.

Twenty-five minutes had gone by and Harry called everyone, announcing that dinner was ready. You all walked into the dining room, taking your seats. Your assigned seat was next to Rory’s chair, which was in between you and Harry; the girls were sitting across from you. Once everyone took several bites of Harry’s dinner--a quick fettuccine alfredo--the chatter was back. You enthusiastically listened to the girls and Rory talk; it made Harry smile, loving how natural everything felt.

Estelle tapped Harry’s shoulder, making him turn towards her with a smile on his face. “What is it, sunshine?” She got off her chair, leaning over to whisper something into his ear and he smiled, turning back to his family who was curious as to what Estelle had said. “Go ahead and ask her, love.”

You put down your fork and placed your arms on the table. “What’s up, Princess?”

“Uh, c-can we go to that place?”

“What place is that?” You asked curiously.

“That place where you told Daddy you loved him,” she responded quite bashfully. Your mouth was slightly open, not expecting her to say what she did. Looking over at Harry, he simply had a soft smile on his face with his brows raised, shrugging his shoulders.

Did you want to go back there? The answer was a simple yes. There wasn’t any excuse that you could possibly make up on the spot as to why you couldn’t go there, and it wasn’t necessarily a bad place whenever you thought about it. In fact, you really missed going over there and you would be lying if you said that you didn’t think about that place often.

Your head turned towards Estelle. “Sure, why not. How about we go tomorrow?” You asked everyone, and they all had smiles on their faces. You looked at Harry, directly asking him for permission. “Is that okay?” His elbow was resting against the arm of the brown chair, fingers placed under his lips as he slightly puckered his soft and pink lips; without looking under the table, you knew his legs were crossed. Harry smiled, nodding his head, and everyone cheered.

The rest of the time everyone was sitting at the dinner table, you all talked about plans for tomorrow, and everyone was really excited. Once it was almost eight, Harry realized that it was almost their bedtime, so he hurried them up the stairs to get ready for bed before saying goodnight to you, getting in as many hugs and kisses as they could get.

Harry was upstairs, changing Rory and putting him to bed before he walked down and found you in the kitchen washing dishes. He slipped past you, placing his hand along your lower back briefly before he grabbed the dish rag. The action sent a chill down your spine and you immediately missed his hands on you.

“The kids seem really excited about tomorrow.” Harry broke the silence, glancing over at you as you continued to wash the dishes.

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m really excited too.”

Harry noticed the slight shortness, and he thought it may be because you were tired. “Hey, are you okay?”

You turned off the water and faced him, crossing your arms as he did the same.

“Do the kids hate me?” The corner of his lips turned up before he started laughing, clutching his stomach. If it were any other time, you would obsess over his laugh; it was music to your ears, the highlight of your day, and the sun when it’s bright out. You softly slapped his arm. “Harry! I’m being serious!”

“Darling, you’re joking, right?” Your heart briefly fluttered at his nickname for you. “Those kids love you!” He noticed your change of attitude and that you’d been thinking about this for a while and beating yourself up over it.

“It’s just…I don’t want them to think that we broke up and I forgot about them. I mean I understand if they see it that way because I left without saying another word for six months--didn’t even get to say goodbye to them and have a proper talk. I just don’t want them to hate me.” You looked down at your feet as you played with the thin silver band on your middle finger.

Harry’s seen you in work mode, and it reeks confidence and power. You don’t need much reassurance during work unless it’s when your employees tell you that progress is moving along. But this was completely different; you needed all the reassurance that you could get to get it through your head that the kids that you’d come to love--from the moment you met them--don’t hate you. And Harry didn’t mind telling you over and over again.

“They were just that we split up, that’s all. But they quickly understood why.”

“What’d you tell them?” You asked curiously.

“The truth--that sometimes it’s better to be apart for a while rather than drive ourselves crazy. Told them that when the time is right, then maybe we’ll get back together.” The look in his eyes was so comforting that you immediately fell into them. Harry was always the best with giving you that extra reassurance that you and his kids need.

You felt the extra beat in your chest that pumped so harshly against your chest, but it was surrounded by butterflies, making it flutter throughout your body. As you looked so deeply into Harry’s beautiful green eyes, you realized one of two things; the first thing was that you never wanted to look so deeply into another person’s eyes unless it was Harry’s; and the second thing was that you were incredibly and overwhelmingly still in love with this man and his three children, and there hadn’t been a day that gone by where you weren’t.

Taking a deep breath, itches were crawling up your skin, begging you to say something. “D-Do you think it’s time?” Your voice asked shyly.

Harry was taken back by your question as he raised his brows. He couldn’t deny the nerves that he felt whenever he was around you, but your question seemed to have increased his nervousness.

“We’ve been separated for what feels like a long time now.” He paused, taking a deep breath as he recouped his thoughts to say the right words. “I think-”

“Daddy?” Yours and Harry’s head whipped towards the staircase, finding Estelle at the bottom of it with groggy eyes.

Harry walked towards his sunshine. “What is it, my love?” He kneeled down onto the bottom step, matching her height. Estelle told him that she couldn’t sleep, and that she’s been tossing and turning for a while, so Harry told her that he would lay with her until she fell asleep and carried her to her bedroom. He looked back at you as he was walking up the steps, and you gave him a soft smile, letting him know that it was completely okay.

You finished tidying up the kitchen, wiping down the counters and cleaning the dining table until you realized that you needed to get ready for tomorrow’s adventure.

Once Harry came down the stairs, he found you sitting on the edge of the armchair with your purse on your shoulder; you looked up as he walked up to you.

“I’m gonna head out.”

Harry’s slightly frowned. “Oh, you can stay the night if you want to.”

“No, it’s okay, thanks.” You really did want to stay the night, but you didn’t have a change of clothes for tomorrow. “I’ll be here tomorrow morning.” He nodded, walking you to the door, opening it for you.

You stepped out on his doorstep, turning around as you wrapped your arm around his waist, tiptoeing to plant a kiss to his cheek. The slightest bit of touch from your lips sent Harry’s skin on fire, warming up to the affection. The touch was sent away too quickly as you let go of him completely, giving him one last smile before walking to your car and waving at him as you drove away.

Harry closed the door, the palm of his hand cupped the cheek that you kissed and he sighed as if he was shot with Cupid’s love-arrow, and he wouldn’t mind it if it meant he would feel your affection every single day.

You arrived at the Styles household at ten in the morning with a tote-full of snacks and water, knowing the kids would get hungry from all the walking. You got there forty-five minutes earlier than planned, knowing that the Styles family wouldn’t be out the door right on time because Harry has three kids, two of them who bicker and complain from time to time—especially when they’re sleepy—and a two-year-old who was starting to run away from everything. So, you figured Harry would appreciate your help.

When Harry saw you standing on his doorstep, he let out a sigh of relief. He was still in his striped pajamas pants and a white t-shirt, holding a small pair of olive green pants. You walked in and saw Rory running around half naked, despite it being early in the morning. You told Harry that he could shower and get ready for the day, and to leave it to you because you’ll handle it—plus, you both knew that the kids often listened to you more than their own dad. He smiled appreciatively, kissing your head briefly before walking up the stairs and getting ready.

Once Rory saw you, he stopped running around the house and instead, ran towards you and into your arms. You carried him up the stairs and to his room to get some clothes on him, and luckily, Harry was able to bathe him before you showed up. You gave him his favorite toy to fumble with before you walked into Mira's room, setting Rory on her twin bed before helping her get ready. You left Rory in Mira’s room and went to Estelle’s bedroom, doing the same.

By the time Harry walked downstairs, you and the three kids were sitting on the couch, eating a banana. He smiled, slowing his steps as he was amazed at the quietness and stillness in the house, but then again, he wasn’t that amazed because he knew you’d come in and get things in order.

Harry’s home was a two minute walk to the train station, and everyone decided to take the train since it was what you and Harry did when you two were dating, and the kids really wanted to walk through the entire path of their father’s love story.

Luckily, there weren’t that many people on the train—it was practically empty—so they didn’t have to rush to get a spot for the kids. Rory sat in the middle of his sisters as they all smiled brightly towards Harry’s phone that was capturing the adorable children for a sweet memory sake. You and Harry were standing, making sure neither of the kids fell over if the train made a halting stop. You held onto the metal bar above you, Harry held the bar that was mounted into the floor, and you both watched the kids interact with one another—counting on their fingers, booping one another’s noses, and laughing; it was every parent’s dream.

Without noticing, Harry moved closer to you, placing his hand directly next to yours; the side of your hand touched his, and you looked at him with wide eyes while your heart fluttered. You were hip to hip, and you saw the smirk he had on his face while occasionally glancing over at you. You couldn’t help the heat that rose onto your cheeks because it felt like old times when you two used to ride the train together and it would get too packed to where you had to stand up; he would always face you as your hands touched—sometimes he would even intertwine your fingers together while you two held the bar as you were one—and he would hover over you, giving you plentiful kisses like the true romantic that he was.

The train ride took about 30 minutes and it was a two minute walk to the place that gave you so many happy memories and nostalgia—International Rose Test Garden was where the memories of you and Harry were stored.

You had the girls on either side of you, holding their hands; and Harry carried Rory since he was likely to run around and Harry didn’t want to risk his safety.

The sun was bright—beautiful for a day in the garden as the roses and flowers bloomed ever so widely. All of you walked the rows and rows of flowers, occasionally taking pictures in front of the rose bushes.

Remembering all the times you and Harry were hand in hand, laughing until your stomachs were sore, like you did an intense ab workout, and there were tears resting in the outer corner of your eyes. All the memories that were swirling around in your head made you come to the conclusion to one thing: you never want to be without Harry and his kids ever again.

You don’t know how it took you so long to realize this, maybe it was seeing them for the first time in six months that you realized that you had it great—a small family that accepted you and loved you for who you were, and you loved them just the same.

Harry walked beside you, the kids skipping and playing around in the grass in front of you two. Confidently, you slipped your hand into Harry’s ringed hand, immediately intertwining your fingers together as if your hand knew what it was missing. Harry briefly looked down before looking at you. He smiled, and turned his head back towards the kids, not making a big deal of it as his warm hand accepted the coldness of yours.

You gently tugged against his arm, pulling him back as he came face to face with you; a quiet gasp came out of his mouth when doing so. You looked up at him with bright eyes, and Harry was taken back to a year and a half ago where you, coincidentally, were in this same spot on the very green patch of grass.

“Harry…” you breathed out, looking down at your feet nervously. He made the bold move to step closer to you, chests almost touching. Harry lifted your chin up with his fingers, locking eyes with you so intently that you practically lost your breath.

“What is it?” He whispered.

Taking a deep breath, you said, “I-I realized something.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

Glancing over at the kids, they were giving you big smiles and thumbs up for reassurance, and your heart swooned at their support and love they provided you to finally get back together with their father, even if you weren’t their biological mother.

You looked back at Harry, who was waiting patiently. “I love you. I still do and never stopped.” Harry felt like he stopped breathing at that moment. “You make me so happy—you and the kids, and I don’t want to be without you all anymore. I-I don’t like how it’s only taken me this much time to tell you this, but it felt like the perfect time since this was the place where I first told you I loved you.”

Harry smiled, taking your hands into his. His thumbs smoothed your skin on the back of your hand before he brought them up to his lips and kissed them so delicately. The action made you smile softly before your mind had switched it to thinking that it was affection before the rejection.

But then he opened his mouth to speak such beautiful words that you had been aching to hear during the breakup.

“You’re my everything. I truly don’t know what I’d do without you because you. You’re part of my source of happiness, and life didn’t feel the same without you—the kids could agree with me on that.” He chuckled, looking at them to find them holding hands and jumping around in circles. “But I know that we separated for the better only for us to come back stronger than ever, and I’m never gonna let go of you again, okay?”

Tears pricked your eyes before they streamed down your cheeks. Your heart felt like it was pounding harder than ever, but it was filled with so much love from and for this man in front of you.

Harry wiped away your tears, leaning in to kiss your forehead, down to your eyelids as he kissed your tears away. He pulled away and you opened your eyes, giving each other a relieved and happy smile.

“I love you,” he said, and he swore he saw the brightest smile he’s ever seen—brighter than the sun. “Always have and always will.”

“And I love you. C-Can you kiss me, please?”

Harry grinned. “It would be an honor.”

Placing his palms on the side of your face, he leaned his forehead against yours. Your hands were wrapped around his wrists, rubbing his skin softly. With a smile, he kissed you with such softness and passion that the flowers bloomed largely and the sun shined ever so brightly. The kids cheered and clapped, making bystanders think that you’d just gotten engaged, but you both knew that would be the next step. Your stomach was in knots, butterflies surrounding your body as he captured your lips with his. Hugging Harry’s waist, you pulled him closer and wrapped your arms around him, and he kissed you harder, effortlessly moving his lips in sync with yours as if he was a pro on kissing you, which he was.

Harry pulled away first, giving you several pecks before opening his eyes. “God, I missed doing that. Missed you so much, darling.”

“I missed you too, baby.” You were high on happiness, high on love. “I’m sorry it took us this long.” A slight frown appeared on your face, but Harry kissed it away.

“Hey, hey. None of that. I would’ve loved you until the end of time. I don’t care how long it took, you’re my forever,” he vowed, not planning to break that promise.

Missing his lips on yours, you leaned up to kiss him again while your arms were wrapped around his neck and his were around your waist, holding you tightly as if he was afraid you’d run off.

Suddenly, you started giggling into the kiss, making Harry smile before he pulled away.

“What’s so funny?” He asked. You started thinking about the conversation from the park when you asked him if he was seeing someone.

You curled in your lips before you said, “You’re a literal dilf, and I’m so in love with you.”

please tell me all of your thoughts, feelings, favorite moments and scenes! thank you for reading <3

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles ff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x yn #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles reader insert #harry styles au #dad!harry #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine

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the-seas-song · 3 years ago

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Richard Armitage and Astrology

Hi! I find astrology fascinating, and am an armchair expert on it myself, so I found Richard's comments in his recent Total Film Magazine interview very interesting. This is what he said:

I’ve been incredibly lucky. I’ve dabbled with having my celestial chart looked at every couple of years, just for a little tune-up. Every time, the guy sighs, and goes, “What can I say? You’ve just got a sprinkle of luck.” And I say, “That’s good, because I don’t have the talent, so I really need the luck!”

[cut]

There is a naughty, dark side to me. I am quite strongly affected by the moon. So if there’s a full moon I’ll go a bit crazy. (source)

This isn't the first time Richard's mentioned astrology – he's mentioned being a Leo, reading his daily horoscope, and finding out he was born in the Chinese Year of the Pig; but these were all informal twitter comments. He has also mentioned the effect the moon has on him before, in February 2020:

“Everyone has cycles of positive mental and emotional feelings and negative mental and emotional feelings and I know that I am profoundly affected on a monthly cycle. I always look at the calendar when I'm feeling particularly low and check the lunar cycle to see if it's a full or new moon.” (source)

However, what prompted me to write this is that Richard's personal put-downs were even more direct here than usual; and the connection that has to his natal, or birth, chart.

A little disclaimer: Personally, I think general horoscopes (like the ones you find in magazines) do far more harm than good. They are based solely on the twelve sun signs, and your sun sign is just one puzzle piece out of 25+ pieces that make up your natal chart. This is why many people don't relate to their horoscope or it's personality description.

Your natal chart, however, is a whole different animal. It's an intricate puzzle created by the exact date, time, and location you were born; which is why most people find their natal charts to be scarily accurate.

Back during the Hobbit days, a fan blog reported that Richard told a NZ fan that his birth time was just after 4 a.m. I used 4:05 for this post, and being off by a few minutes doesn't really make a difference.

Richard and self-esteem

I really feel for and relate to Richard's self-esteem struggles, because our charts mirror each other. We are both Leo suns; but I have my moon in Aries with my MC and Chiron conjunct each other in Virgo and sextile my North Node; while Richard has his moon in Virgo with his MC and Chiron conjunct each other in Aries and sextile his North Node.

What on earth does that mean?

Each planet represents a different part of you. The sun represents your ego/conscious self; the moon your emotions, mercury your mind/intellect, venus love and beauty/aesthetics, mars passion and drive, etc.

On top of the twelve planets, there are specific points and asteroids that are also important. Your MC, or Midheaven, represents your career and public persona. Your North Node describes your inner journey and life purpose. The asteroid Chiron describes your major soul wound, that you will be forced to deal with throughout your life.

A conjunction and a sextile are two of several different kinds of aspects. The different kinds of aspects are the different ways your respective puzzle pieces can interact with each other. Some are 'easy/positive' and some 'difficult/negative'. A sextile is considered easy/positive. A conjunction means two things are next to each other and overlap with one another, and is usually considered positive.

Leo and Aries are both fire signs. Fire signs are generally playful, warm, passionate, confident, and optimistic. Virgo is an earth sign. Earth signs are generally practical, grounded, sensual, and logical.

Richard's personality is dominated by an almost equal amount of Leo and Virgo influence, with both his sun (core self) and venus (love and beauty) in Leo and his moon (emotions) and mercury (mind) in Virgo.

Aries and Virgo are said to be the most difficult Chiron signs, because they are the wounds tied directly to your self-worth (Aries is the wound of Self and Virgo is the wound of Perfection). With Aries Chiron you feel a core sense of worthlessness, like you're missing a fundamental piece of your core self. This deeply felt lack of self-worth leads people to be people pleasers and have issues with confrontation and conflict.

Aries rules the planet mars. It is the warrior planet of passion, drive, and combat. A conventional Aries is confident, outgoing, impulsive, and strong willed. Aries and mars are definitely the rowdiest sign and planet in the zodiac. However, with Chiron here the traits are inverted, and so someone like Richard is much more likely to be scared of his inner passion, confidence, and willpower – depending, of course, on what the rest of his chart is like.

That leads us to Virgo. Chiron Virgo feels impure, like there is something fundamentally wrong with them. This kind of low self-esteem makes you feel like you have to constantly try to 'fix' yourself so people will love and accept you. It's an OCD type of perfectionism that only ends in failure and heartbreak.

A good example of how this works is when I talked to my therapist recently. I hadn't quite succeeded in meeting my goals, and so my automatic response was to condemn myself for failing. My therapists immediate response was to congratulate me on how much progress I had made.

Ironically, unlike with Aries, this isn't an inversion of the conventional Virgo. Conventional Virgo is meticulous, detail-oriented, focused, patient, efficient, practical, perfectionistic, systematic, and pessimistic with high expectations. If Aries is the official warrior of the zodiac, Virgo is the official nit-picker.

This means that Richard's subconscious intellectually (mercury) and emotionally (moon) expects and demands perfection, whilst simultaneously feeling fundamentally worthless. In short: ouch.

Interestingly, a significant number of celebrities have their Chiron conjunct their MC. Personally, I think Richard hit the nail on the head as to why in his essay on the Human Condition for Cybersmile:

The answer in my humble opinion, (and believe me it is humble, to a point of taking 43 years to be shared) is actually something which applies to my work as an actor. It’s why sometimes actors are called in to work with therapists, in large corporations, in schools. It’s why drama therapy is fantastic to understand what we do, how we do it and what the outcome might be, and in an improvisation where we aren’t playing ourselves sometimes we explore avenues that are too frightening or unacceptable in our own lives.

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So going back to my very first point, the “social media society” in which we’d all like to feel safe, supported, excited, creative, spontaneous, innovative, courageous, is really in our own hands. And back to acting, it’s taken me a long time to shake off the effects of bullying in school. That people were always laughing behind my back. I was always looking out of the corner of my eye. I now have incredible peripheral vision which is so useful, (as is Kinesthetic sense…Google it) but try being a brave, experimental, uninhibited actor with all of those hang ups. Wasn’t happening.

So here is the thing, and it’s key to my work and I think ours as a community. When we speak or write, we ultimately desire to ‘affect’. If we aren’t watching the destination of that affect, then how do we know our words have landed and the ‘effect’ they have caused?

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If I have a strong opinion about something which I want to express I really task myself with backing it up with the ‘why do I feel that?’

Again it’s part of my work building a believable character, and actually part of building a believable ‘me’ outside of my work. Just.. “because that’s what I feel” is a bit of a cop out.

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As for Bullying, it’s like the moment the pot boils over, or it’s the poisoned stream that can’t be cleansed, so why bother. Well I think that’s what art is for. It’s can support the best and the worst of ourselves. We can ‘attack’ a canvas with black angry paint, we can ‘savage’ a piano keyboard, we can dance until we drop, we can read about a Puritan society who executed elders, we can explore the psychology of a serial killer, and when we can’t do this ourselves we can experience it, and witness it through others.

It’s more than being nice. Edward Munch’s “The Scream” is far from nice. Francisco Goya’s “Saturn” is horrific, Metallica, Die Antwoort etc etc. But then there is Monet, Faure, Renée Fleming, Peter Jackson, Ariana Grande (ok it’s getting a bit eclectic I admit) but when we look, listen and empathize, we tune in to the Human Condition.

We are all part of The Human Condition, whether we like it or not. Social Media. Expression. The Human Condition.

Us human beings are wired for emotion and connection. For actors, their career gives them a way to safely process and explore their personal wounds through the characters they play. For Richard in particular, his mars is conjunct his North Node. So, his mars and North Node are sextile his Chiron and MC.

Remember, Aries (the sign of Richard's Chiron and MC) is ruled by mars. Mars is the warrior planet, like Aries is the warrior sign. This means that Richard's spiritual journey/life's purpose (North Node) deals directly with healing his soul wound so he can accept and embrace his inner confidence and willpower. This explains why he ends up playing a lot of ultra-masculine characters – mars/Aries are the most macho of them all.

This isn't to say I think Richard should change who he is! I wouldn't be interested in him if he was ultra-masculine or macho. However, for his own sake, I would be overjoyed to see him gain more self-esteem and inner confidence.

Extrapolating from my own personal experiences, the constant criticism and judgement I received during my adolescence from my peers and various authority figures (like family members and teachers) for being unconventional and 'over the top' caused me to turn on myself and repress my passion and will-power for several years. I think it's highly likely that Richard experienced this too.

Here are some quotes from Richard that illustrate everything I've been talking about (emphasis is mine):

Armitage is still notably handsome, but, within minutes of meeting him, it’s apparent how incongruous it is that this bookish, sensitive, self-described ‘melancholic, philosophically-minded softie’ and ardent fan of The Great British Bake Off was cast as beefcake killer totty for a considerable part of his career. ‘It’s ridiculous. It’s the complete opposite to who I am. I’m such a pacifist,’ he laughs. ‘But then, part of me always felt: “Well, isn’t that why we’re actors?”

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'I think the turning point was losing my mum,” he says. “Up until that point, I felt like I mustn’t put a foot wrong, that if I said the wrong thing or revealed too much about my personal life, it could all come crashing down, and it would come down on my parents, and they wouldn’t be proud of me anymore.” He shrugs. “Now that I’m past that I’m actually much more carefree about the choices I make.” (source)

Richard Armitage puts his head in his hands and emits a noise that's somewhere between a sigh, a laugh and a groan. “Oh no! Why would you want to pin this up?” he says with a horrified whisper.

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Never has a man seemed more ill at ease with the heartthrob label. He squirms with embarrassment in his chair every time the subject comes up. He is grateful for the loyalty of his fans, he says, but worries that “there is this thing of, 'Is he just totty?' Because the industry will sometimes write you off as a serious actor if they think that. I have always been conscious of that and fought against it, because I don't really see myself like that at all.”

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This brings us back to Astrov, who looks so relentless towards the future that he can't see the truth in front of his eyes. “It's interesting that he's an outsider in the play. I've often felt like that myself in life. I'm quite a solitary person. I enjoy my time with me, and sometimes it's not necessarily healthy, because I can talk myself into quite a dark place.

I'm an optimist, but at the same time, there's a discipline in me that will attack me for not working hard enough, not achieving enough, not being good enough. You always think, 'I'll grow out of that. With success, those voices will disappear.' But they don't, they get louder. I suppose I'm learning a bit about myself through Astrov.” (source)

The answer in my humble opinion, (and believe me it is humble, to a point of taking 43 years to be shared) is actually something which applies to my work as an actor. … And back to acting, it’s taken me a long time to shake off the effects of bullying in school. That people were always laughing behind my back. I was always looking out of the corner of my eye. I now have incredible peripheral vision which is so useful, (as is Kinesthetic sense…Google it) but try being a brave, experimental, uninhibited actor with all of those hang ups. Wasn’t happening. (Human Condition essay)

So I kind of travelled on that line for a while, and I was bullied for it as well. The problem with me is that as soon as you try to push me down or say “you can’t do this” and “I don’t think you should do that”, I immediately push back. So I did – I’d decided really young that I was going to try to make a career out of it.

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Actually, there was something I wanted to add to what Shaun said, about inclusivity, is that um, no matter how – how much confidence you have or how, in my case, lack. Y’know, I always felt like a misfit, or an oddball, or that I didn’t belong. But I always – I always told myself that ‘you exist in the world, so therefore there’s a place for you in this industry’. I think anybody who feels like, “I can’t become an actor because…” – you exist. And, y’know, the job of filmmakers is to write about our life and society, and if you are a part of that, then there’s a place for you in the industry. (source)

I'm a bit of a brooder. I don't like confrontation, so I think I suppress things. When my temper does come out, it goes all the way – the kind of temper you can't apologize for. Yep, the chair getting thrown out of the window. Those emotions are scary, but hey, they come in useful when you're acting. (source)

Armitage is a noticeably calm presence but he talks with passion.

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In the past, he has described himself as a shy person. “Not any more,” he says forcefully. “I mean… if I’m very, very honest, I’m a big guy, I think I’m at times quite a frightening person.”

In what way?

“I think I’m quite uncompromising. I can’t bear bulls---. And in a way the shyness is me protecting other people from that. I can feel that there’s an intimidation that can happen if I own my full height, and speak at my full volume. So I’ve learned over the years to just tone it all down a bit.” (source)

I've become one of those actors who find it difficult to say no when things are offered. I think if I had come out of drama school and been an instant Hollywood superstar I would be taking long, leisurely holidays. But I always feel somehow it's going to be taken away from me so I work when I can. When you struggled with work as I did when I left drama school you make hay when the sun shines. There was a time when I thought, and my agent thought, it wasn't going to happen for me. We both sat down and I actually said I don't know if I can stay in this state. The interesting roles have only come since I got into my 30s. But I didn't know that was going to happen. I'm a bit of an all or nothing kind of guy. To be honest, I had no blind faith in myself. I don't think I could have stayed around as a jobbing actor. I would probably have quit. Who knows? I think I would have found that too frustrating. But at the moment when I thought I was going to quit, something happened and it all changed again. (source)

[talking about being cast in the Hobbit]

There was a little bit of guidance as to what they were looking for. I felt that I was too young for the character, too tall for that character, so I thought, you know, ‘I’ll just look at the scene they’ve written’. And then I realised the essence of the character that they were aiming for. So I went to meet Peter and Phillipa and we read some of the scenes. I think we spent an hour-and-a-half talking about the character and what their vision was, and I sort of explained who I thought he was, and that was it.

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Yeah, my first instinct, whenever that kind of thing happens, is to say, 'Well what's wrong with the part? Why did nobody else want it'? Which is kind of the story of my life really. When I get offered something, I'm like, 'Well there must be something wrong with it if they're offering it to me!'

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But you know, the thing is, you talk about all of this: ‘How did you get the role? And how did it feel when you got the role?’ And once all that’s died down you start to think, ‘I’ve actually got to go and play this now’. They’ve trusted me. Everyone’s happy, everyone’s celebrated, the phones have gone down and the deal’s been done. Now it’s over to me to make the role work. And that’s the scariest moment, because you do have that elation and then the work begins and you think, ‘How the hell am I going to do this?’ (source)

How was it for you taking on this beloved role, this character that has such a huge responsibilty on his back? Could you relate in some ways?

Richard Armitage: Yeah. There is always building within him this paranoia that he’s not a good enough leader, and that weighs him down. I have experienced that same feeling as an actor in this role. And I was aware of taking on the responsibility of that character, so there was something I could latch onto there, as one of the people who loved ‘The Hobbit’ book and had envisioned that character. It took me a while to be convinced that I could do it, it wasn’t until I saw some sketches, this one particular pencil sketch….there was something about this characters eyes and the way that his hands are crossed, I thought, “I think I can do this, I can pull this off.” (source)

Q: I wanted to ask you about what your Arkenstone is. For you personally.

A: Me personally?

Q: And I meant for this to be materialistic. What's the thing that you covet so much that it makes you mad that you don't have it?

A: Well, it's actually not material. It's not material, and it's – (laughs) You want a comedy answer, don't you? But it's respect. It's the thing that always eludes you, you know. You have to fight for it and when you get it, your arkenstone, the thing that crowns you, is respect.

Q: And also a sweater.

A: And a sweater. I do have this little natty number.

Q: It's a good one man.

A: Tom Ford made this personally. But hey, he can have it back. I don't covet wealth and material. (source)

Q6: You’ve done a variety of different roles, I wonder what influences you to pursue those roles?

R: More often than not, you go where you’re wanted. So getting hired is still kind of a revelation to me, a shock and a surprise. Sometimes you have very flat periods, where I don’t really care what comes next, I just want to work on something. I feel like I’ve got a little cloud of luck over my head so the right thing always seems to come along. But again, I’m easily excited about literature and stories, so I’ve always said I don’t really pursue glory, I’d happily do acting for two people in my living room if it was a role that I really enjoyed with a story I’d really like to tell. So it’s chance, I would say.

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Q8: Once in an interview about Thorin, you were asked what your arkenstone was and your answer was respect. I like this answer a lot. So I was wondering what’s your red dragon? As you said yesterday he’s a character who sheds his skin, improves, and becomes something. I was wondering if there was something you’d like to improve, become?

R: I guess the antithesis of that is disrespect. Do you mean in myself?

Q8: Yes.

R: Yeah I try not to be too disrespectful. I guess I value the truth. I think we’re living at a time at the moment where the truth is warped and there’s a word that’s been in my head for a long time, and particularly recently it’s come to the surface. When I was studying Macbeth, at the RSC, I read a long thesis about the gunpowder plot, which was one of the things they thought that Shakespeare (or whoever Shakespeare was) was stimulated by to write Macbeth. And the word equivocation was used in this thesis, it was actually about equivocation and what equivocation is. And if you look it up in the dictionary, at the moment most politicians are equivocating. When you don’t answer a question, or you bend the truth to make it seem like you are answering the question, and in fact you’re telling a lie. So I would say my red dragon would be equivocation.

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Then there was the physical form that I was studying and observing, but also, I do sometimes enjoy locking myself away in a room and reading a book or just doing something alone, and you sometimes can go a couple of days without speaking to anybody. I don’t know whether anyone else experiences this or whether I’m just a weirdo. But I find that when that happens my voice changes, and I always forget how to make a noise, I have to do a warm-up before I go into the world and start speaking again.

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Q15: I was wondering if you ever had to pull out of a project because it felt wrong or something, and what is the point where you say “nope I can’t do this”?

R: Um, no. But that’s partly to do with the fact that I have a lot of loyalty, probably too much loyalty for my own good, really, and there’ve been moment when I’ve been on board a project, and actually it happened this year with The Lodge, I was already on board that project and something else came along which was bigger and better and brighter and more money, and your agent says “look we can pull you out of The Lodge, they can probably recast it,” and here I think “I’ve already started this process, I don’t want to let people down,” and I don’t have a problem with that at all, I never have any regrets over the things that you miss or the things that you decide not to do, I think there’s a strong enough reason why you’ve decided not to do it, but in general no I haven’t ever pulled out of something. There was one television show I remember, I’m not going to say what it is, but after the first readthrough, I did call my agent and asked, “can I get out of this?” And then he quickly got back to me and said, “don’t do it. Don’t build a reputation built on disloyalty.” So I try not to.

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Q18: I think you are very handsome, but your character Francis hated the way he looked, how did that make you feel?

R: Francis hated the way he looked? Yeah. I guess there is something we relate to in that. Without getting too personal, I don’t always enjoy looking at myself in the mirror. I don’t do it very often, to be honest. I do it just to be sure I don’t have food on my face. I do it in character, actually. I do spend a bit of time studying my own face when I’m playing a character, which is interesting because your face does change. (source)

He cannot see the handsomeness: “I think I am odd-looking. I have big lines on my forehead.” I squint, looking for them, but he is talking over me, sounding slightly panicked. “I shouldn’t draw attention to it, because then everyone else will see the oddness.”

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Laziness is what makes him angry: “Laziness in myself. Laziness in other people. And dishonesty. All things I feel capable of myself. I have a propensity to be lazy and lie about it. Fear makes me rageful. There are words in The Crucible I actually find it quite hard to say.” I beg for an example — The Crucible is in the public domain. “No,” he says, “you’ll see it in the play.” I tell him it will make no sense in print if he will not tell me. But he won’t. So I change the subject. It works. “OK, I will give you a line.” He inflates a little and says: “Is there no good penitence but it be public?” And then: “Were I stone I would have cracked for shame this seven month.” (source)

Q: How would you describe your evolution as an actor since you started?

A: I think everything has to do with the fact that today I’m not afraid anymore. At first, I was embarrassed to do something wrong or do things badly or make myself ridiculous. Today, I am almost looking for opportunities to be ridiculous or vulnerable or to make as much of a mistake as possible. In a sense, it’s now the opposite of being undercover.

Q: Are you the actor you dreamed of being when you started?

A: Not yet. I am not yet fearless enough. It’s in waves, actually. But I have already approached this dream. There were moments, especially during Arthur Miller’s The Crucible, which I performed on stage, where I felt I had no control over things. That’s what I’m looking for: to lose control.

Q: You often play bad guys. What do you like in these characters?

A: I like disobedience. I like the fact that you can be disobedient thanks to your creativity. As a person, I must always be polite in life, be careful and correct so as not to hurt anyone. In a fantasy world, I can be as offensive as I want. It’s an outlet. (Laughter)

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Q: Many actors are moving to directing. Is this also your goal?

A: I would like to, but I do not think I’m smart enough. I am good when it comes to working with another’s vision. I do not think I have that creative spontaneity that creates a vision from scratch. But the future will tell. (source)

I applaud Richard for being so open and direct about his fears and insecurities. It takes a lot of bravery to do so. And while I've seen some fans get annoyed with his continual self-deprecation, I think his honesty and openness is much more significant, and shows his inner strength. He doesn't try to pretend to be someone he's not.

He recently described himself as “patient, obsessive, and silly” (source). The patient part is classic Virgo, and the obsessive part comes from an element of his natal chart that I have not mentioned.

The silly part, however, is classic Leo. Like I said above, he has an almost equal amount of Leo and Virgo in his personality. Personally, I'm proud to be a Leo, but I also know we get misunderstood a lot of the time. I wrote the following for an essay of mine on Leos in Disney:

Your sun sign represents your core identity. Just like the physical sun is the center of the solar system and its energy creates life, the astrological sun is our consciousness and life force. Each of the twelve sun signs are ruled by a different planet and element.

Since Leo is the fixed fire sign, we don't inherit the reckless and impulsive nature of fire, but instead are a steady flame. No sign is more reckless and impulsive than Aries, because they have the double combination of being a cardinal sign and a fire sign. Meanwhile, all four of the fixed signs struggle with stubbornness and admitting when their wrong.

Leo's are well known to be natural leaders and the rulers of the zodiac. We are ruled by the sun and our animal is the lion. We dream big and are born with big personalities, and we can't help but be theatrical and dramatic. This means we are always self-centered in the sense of being strong-willed and having a strong sense of self. It does not mean all Leos are egotistical.

Unhealthy Leo traits all revolve around the ego: attention-seeking, egotistical, selfish, bossy, controlling, pushy, jealous, possessive, lazy, vain, arrogant, aggressive, and obstinate.

Healthy Leos, however, are known for our fire-based traits – being animated, theatrical, happy, outgoing, independent, competitive, charismatic, creative, open-minded, open-hearted, confident, assertive, playful, warm, social, courageous, idealistic, affectionate, romantic, optimistic, and adventurous.

What isn't often talked about is our steadiness, our fixed-based traits. Leos are authentic, steadfast, fiercely loyal and protective, consistent, persistent, full-hearted, dedicated, need to do their best, generous and selfless, honorable and moral, genuine and direct, extremely supportive, hard-working and responsible, dignified, strong-willed, and ambitious and determined.

Something that is often mentioned but highly misunderstood is our trait of courage. Having courage doesn't mean you're fearless or reckless. The definition of courage is “the power or quality of dealing with or facing danger, fear, pain, etc.” It means that instead of running away from our problems or denying our emotions; healthy Leos face them and be genuine and direct with ourselves, embracing our vulnerability.

Having a big personality doesn't necessarily mean someone has a big ego. C.S. Lewis once said, “Humility is not thinking less of yourself, it's thinking of yourself less.” Leos have huge hearts and are incredibly generous. The sun never goes retrograde, always shines, and gives life and energy to all living beings – it isn't selective or discriminatory. Healthy Leos are like mini suns; which is why we are also irrepressibly upbeat, optimistic, and fun-loving.

We're not pushovers. We are like roses – we have both flower petals and thorns. If you mess with someone we love you're going down. We're too loyal and protective to let major things slide; and even if we forgive, we never forget. Little things? We'll try to work them out with you.

Being naturally strong-willed and assertive is healthy – it just means we usually make horrible subordinates and yes people. There's nothing wrong with having high standards and being open about them. In fact, in relationships it's far better in the long run to open and frank about what you need and what you consider a dealbreaker from the beginning.

And oh yes are we ambitious and competitive – but most often with ourselves. We're natural leaders who always dream and think big. For a healthy Leo it's not about being the best, but doing your best. We have to be grand and intense, we're ruled by the sun. It's all or nothing for us. Settling is not something a Leo does. We need to be the best leader, the best friend, the best partner, etc. that we possibly can.

Also, in astrology each sign rules a different body part, and Leo rules the heart and upper back.

Adding to this, Leos are known as the Kings/Queens of the zodiac not because we're egotistical, but because our sun sign is the sun. It's like a double amount sun. I could go into significantly more detail about this, but it involves a lot of technical astrological details; so if anyone wants to know more just message me!

Going back to Richard, having his core self (sun) and love/beauty (venus) in Leo explains why he is an actor and artist; and why he is often warm, silly, and dramatic when he feels comfortable – his long interview with The Anglophile Channel (and it's deleted scenes) does a great job of showing the synergy between his Leo and Virgo sides.

We see Richard express the heartfelt, generous, sincere, and honorable side of Leo all the time. This is why I'm sure he has the inner-confidence and strength hidden within him to overcome the deep pain his Chiron causes him (like it does to us all). I hope he continues to find projects and people that help him on his journey to heal.

Thank you for reading this, I'm wishing him and you all the best. Take care!

#Richard #Richard Armitage #Astrology #Mine

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musingmelsuinesmelancholy · 5 months ago

Note

Okay so longer more in depth response:

Yes I do try and localize my practice. It’s a bit of a balancing act and there’s always going to be lots of remediation involved. For me what this looks like is, as mentioned before, developing relationships with native, naturalized and invasive species. This takes the form of working to remove invasives and to promote native species as well as forming spiritual/magical relationships with them. I don’t want to uhm I’m not sure what term to use, “european-ize” the land here. I don’t want to force a foreign cosmology onto the land here, swapping out this European plant/place for a native one. I’d rather listen to the land itself and let it/the spirits form my understanding. I’ve spoken before about my relationship with maple here and how it relates to the concept of the “land serpent”. It’s a conclusion I arrived at from working with the maple spirit, I didn’t try to force a foreign concept onto the tree. I, like all of us, use my local folklore too. So that’s already localized. Plantain I go to go learn how to be in right relations with the land and it’s people; how I may fit in as a guest. Invasives for learning how not to be. My witch father matches very closely to the lore of my local devil- blacksmithing, sea/sailing motifs. It’s also important for me to learn the history of places. The river I work in was a dye mill at one point and, unfortunately, heavily polluted until recently. It was and still is the life blood of my town. This informed how I approached it. I do think spirits follow when people/cultures migrate. As I mentioned before there is one spirit I refer to as “lady of the waters of the world”. She’s present in multiple European cultures, one of which was/is present where I am. While I wouldn’t petition her in sacred native waterways I haven’t had much issue petitioning her or feeling her presence bc of that.

I avoid native sacred sites, so I don’t accidentally use them for my purposes. I wouldn’t pray to Artio on mount Kineo. I would and have prayed to her on mountains I know weren’t held sacred by local tribes. I won’t pour out booze on the ground here. If I absolutely need to I will use a pot of dirt instead, but more often I go for milk and honey instead. I try to use native (not ones that’re sacred of course) grains if a rite calls for drawing symbols or a circles in flour.

Artio specifically is confusing to me. The bear was/is important to the peoples here, my family (I am malecite on my father’s side) was/is bear clan. Reconnecting with the culture has been instrumental in many ways, though due to family drama, (I am no contact with my father, the uncle that was teaching me lives in Florida now) I have not been able to reconnect as deeply as I would’ve liked. Hopefully this will change. So far my approach has been to not venerate her as a general goddess of mountains and bears, but specifically as goddess of the Swiss mountains. This changes when I leave the Abenaki nation. I’m more comfortable localizing her and venerating her a bear and mountain goddess. I am unaware of malecite legends connecting bears to the big and Little Dipper, once I know for sure there aren’t any I think I will experiment with venerating her as a “cosmic/stellar bear”. I scry or use other means to divine the locations of places special or sacred to spirits in my court. There’s obviously no historical connection between the mountain spring I’ve shared here and Sirona, the Dames Blanchees or other spirits. Yet they’ve showed me this and surrounding places to be areas where their spirits reside or otherwise can be strongly felt/easily accessed. There’s also a case to be made for finding local gods; ( I believe god is a job or title more than anything) Dianmanios has done some very interesting work with this.

I think one must always be mindful that in calling on European spirits here we are inviting a foreign spirits to native land. They’re guests here as we are. If I lived in an area in which the thunderbird was part of tribal lore I would NOT call on Taranis as a storm bringer. I would not invoke Sirona in the St. John river.

I feel that when people say they’re localizing their practice, while they have good intent, what they’re doing is more like superimposing a European world view/cosmology/lore onto the land, changing this or that as needed (for example, deciding bloodroot is at Brigid’s flower rather than snowdrops) rather than actually listening to the land, it’s spirits and creating a uniquely local practice. I’m certainly guilty of this and I don’t necessarily think it’s a problem. For instance I’d sooner make a blasting rod out of a native thorned tree possessing a similar spirit, virtue and planetary rulers to blackthorn rather than idk ordering blackthorn from the UK. I don’t consider bloodroot st brides flower but it does feature in my end of winter rites. It is one of the first flowers to bloom. My yearly ritual calendar is, of course, based on local seasonal cycles. (among other things like the stars and some catholic feast days) I don’t see a point in celebrating seasonal cycles that are not relevant to your locale. St brides day isn’t so much the start of spring here, as our winter can last until late March-early April. I use the movements of animals to mark the seasons as well.

1, and 4, for your ask game

1) As a witch, somebody caught between two worlds- not fully belonging to either one, what anchors you to the physical world?

sorry ancat dubh beat you to this one!

4) Do you attempt to localize your practice? If so, especially if you’re living on colonized land, has that proven difficult?

I’m going to write a longer more thoughtful response to this tomorrow (I have to get up at the ASS CRACK OF DAWN for work tomorrow). In short yes I do and I have grappled with attempting this on colonized land. Every interaction I have with the land feels tinged with some sense of loss or sadness. Even praying to my white ancestors feels a little invasive at times. While I do believe spirits follow people and that spirit are well everywhere it does feel weird to be calling on European spirits here. Learning native history does help as well as reading native authors. I check to ensure a space hasn’t ever been sacred to a tribe before I call a spirit there. I try to forge relationships with plants that colonizers brought here, whether they naturalized like plantain or became invasive like Japanese knotweed. I also try and foster relationships with plants that may have been used by native people but weren’t necessarily sacred, like maple. Reconnecting a bit with my malecite family was SO helpful, even though I couldn’t connect as much as I would’ve liked. One of my spirits I refer to as “lady of the waters of the world” and she is present in multiple cultures, one of which is/was present here. So that has helped a bit. Sorry for the vague and ramble-y answer! I’ll have a better one for you tomorrow 😅😂

#june ask game #traditional witchcraft #witchcraft #animism #brightgnosis

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bangtae-sohotddaeng · 4 years ago

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we’ll be counting stars | k.th. | 1

(^ gif cred: ON THE VOYAGE | pinterest)

pairing: idol!Taehyung x publisher!Reader

rating: nc-17 (for language and themes)

summary: You’d sworn off love and relationships forever. You were here to do your job - work with the biggest boyband of the world. Not forge friendships and...and whatever it was that you and Taehyung were building up with these sneaky glances. It was, to be very fair, your Chief Editor’s fault that you’d landed in this mess. Maybe you should quit your job? Maybe you should quit life -

Oh, he was staring again, and did he freaking lick his lips?

warnings: swearing (reader’s got a potty mouth) + this is set like 5 years in the future + reader has emotional issues, she's a relationship phobe + mentions of weed

genre: so much ANGST ugh + fluff + comedy + some crack

words: 2.1 k

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gimme feedback, much much appreciated!

SIX MONTHS AGO

“Wait a second, really?” You blinked up at the Chief Editor, your boss, in wonder. “Heading this?”

The chocolate skinned, tall woman smiled at you. “Yes, heading this. I’d been looking to hand you something from a really long time, to be honest. This is just the right fit."

You grinned at her, hugging the contract file to your chest. In your thirteen months of employment at the publishing company, through the departmental transfer from HR to Editorial and then the promotion to the Associate Editor position, this was the best thing to happen to you, so far. You finally had a project you were gonna head. You would finally, finally get to handle things on your own—curate your own team, work on an individual project where you made all the decisions.

You breathed out, happily. “I’ll read this thoroughly and report back within an hour, boss. With my sign on it, in all likelihood.”

“I’m counting on it.” Your boss smiled at you.

You looked down at the file. You were going to work with a K-pop group on their auto-biography. You were gonna fly to fucking Korea, for six full months. This was huge. This was awesome. This was what you fucking needed, right now. Your best friend that you had been rooming with for a year was starting to get too comfortable. You were so not up for that kinda shit again.

You looked at the bottom of the front page. Athena had drawn up this contract. Your eyebrows arched. It was no secret that she was your boss’s favourite Acquisition Editor. Some even suspected they were having an affair, despite the gleaming diamond you could see—even right now—on the woman’s finger.

This project had to mean a lot to your boss. And she’d picked you to head it.

“This sounds big, boss,” you mumbled, leafing through the hefty files. You were gonna need a couple hours, maybe, to go through this properly. “And looks big, too.”

“It is big, Y/N. In all the ways. This idea had been brewing in my head for a really long time. I had Athena make the proposal to this K-pop group’s management company, a few months back, and they said yes. She and I had been brainstorming how to approach this. Those guys are pretty tight about their privacy and, um, well. Fraternising policies. It’s all in there, you’ll see.” She pointed a finger at the file in your hands. “We were finally able to draw up the contract with the company’s CEO and Manager. And you were the only one I had in mind when we thought up of building a team and having someone head it so that we don’t have to leave.”

You gave a small, delighted giggle. “Thank you so much, boss. I won’t disappoint you.”

“I know you won’t.”

You got back to your desk and flipped to the first page of the file.

BTS

Your eyes bulged. You had been a busy—and irritable because of all the stupid shit that just constantly kept on happening in your personal life—woman during the past couple of years and really uninvested in anything and everything that had to do with entertainment. This past year had been especially rough ever since your move to the States. You freaking smoked pot when you needed to unwind, what could be worse than that.

But. But—before, when you were a normal, happy woman with a soul, BTS had been kind of a really humongous deal. Did that somehow change in the past couple of years? You strongly doubted it, recalling how huge they’d been growing worldwide, the last time you kept a check. Which you did like crazy.

You momentarily wondered if your boss would still have you as the first consideration if she knew about your crazy ARMY days…

You blinked, coming back from the mental journey, and turned the page. BigHit’s owner was still the same, obviously, but the group members now apparently had individual managers. You blinked, uncomfortable at the knowledge. Reading further, you found something that disturbed you even more.

All the BTS members were done with their Military Service, with Jungkook, Jimin and Namjoon having returned from it just this year.

You swallowed, thickly. A lot had changed in the world outside of the one you’d been living in, too, apparently.

You read through the terms and conditions and your duties, thoroughly. Few points were pretty obvious and things you’d been expecting, but some of them made you frown.

You brought one such issue to your boss’s acknowledgement when you were done reading the entire booklet of a contract, nearly two hours later. You were ready to sign the thing, otherwise.

“And? What about it?” Your boss blinked at you, unfazed.

You sighed, and lifted your left hand up, pointing at your empty ring finger. “No ring, no fiance, boss. They want the team members to be at least engaged. I’m as single as it gets.”

She chuckled at that. “Tell me honestly, are you unprofessional enough to fraternise on your job? Such a high profile one, at that?”

You worried your bottom lip between your teeth. “I don’t think they’d care about what I think, boss, or that they’d even ask.”

Your boss gave an exasperated sigh. “Okay, let me put it in a different way.” You tilted your head to show your interest. “What’s your opinion on relationships, in general?”

You grimaced, unable to help your knee-jerk response. But then you shrugged, trying not to scowl while you said the words you’d started to believe in since the past couple of years. “Well, as I’d informed you through my quite less-than-professional letter at the time of my joining, boss, I think relationships are pointless. Humans keeping relationships beyond professionalism with each other is pointless, actually, because with a personal attachment comes a buckload of expectations, and then it’s just a rabbit hole down the middle of the earth. At the end of which, we burn.”

Your boss seemed to be suppressing laughter. Did the moral of your life amuse her? “You actually quoted the letter word by word, there, Y/N.”

You sighed. “That wasn’t something I’d thought through when I mailed it, boss. The voice input tool turned my rants into a letter. And my frustration over your concerns about fraternising in the office made me mail it.”

Your boss nodded. “Well, I talked to BigHit’s manager over the phone. The company’s not the group’s,” she added when you frowned in confusion at the singular term. “I explained to him about where you stood—taking references from this letter—and explained to him why I needed my most valuable Associate on the team.”

Your cheeks heated up, both due to the huge praise and embarrassment over the exposure of your letter. “Oh, um. Thank you. I guess?”

“Ugh, sign the damn piece of paper and start collecting the damn team, Y/N!”

You’d resorted to staying back at the office till late hours just to avoid your roommate.

When you’d moved to the country, thirteen months back, and decided to share your decade old friend’s flat—feeling lucky as shit that he worked in the same city as you—you and him had been on the same page. You’d both been fed up with the concepts of relationships and entanglements, even the strictly-physical ones, and wanted to just burn away your youth on the grind and pot-smoking weekends.

But then, gradually, you noticed the shift in him. He was trying to get into your pants. It could not end well.

It wasn’t to say you weren’t attracted to him. You’d jump the gorgeous guy’s bones in a heartbeat, in an alternate universe. But in this one, you’d had a first hand experience of ruining multiple friendships, and you so did not wanna risk another.

That idiot didn’t get it, though.

Hence why you were brainstorming your project’s team at ten oclock of the night in your nearly empty office building.

“Any luck?” Your okay-ish colleague—the least clingy out of the lot—peered at your spreadsheet over your shoulder.

“Why the heck are you so against it, Sana?” you groaned into your palm, frustrated.

“Because I’m ARMY!” she said in an aghast tone.

“So? Dude, that’s nearly 70% of the earth’s population, at this point, I’m guessing.”

“Um, maybe, but. I don’t trust myself to be professional, Y/N,” she morosely mumbled, dropping into an empty chair on the table next to you.

You looked at her from above your glasses. “Why the heck not?”

She ducked her head, her honey blonde hair covering almost all of her face. But you still spotted the red that bloomed across her face. “Because I have a crush on Yoongi, the size of freaking America, Y/N!”

“What? What? That’s your reason?" You covered your mouth with a hand to hold back your laughter. "Lame fucking reason, Sana!” You glared at her when she nervously looked back at you. “Get your shit together, and pack your bags. And give me your husband’s number, I wanna tell him something.”

You hadn’t imagined that picking out five people from a group of thirty would be this hard. You had spent an entire week literally running after these people to convince them. They were all married or engaged save for one, who had plans of proposing to his boyfriend a few months later, during Valentine’s before you convinced him to do it now so that he’d be able to join the team.

You’d come up with a total of four women and two men, including Sana, that were all fluent in Korean. That was kinda one of the biggest prerequisites, other than being in a committed relationship. You’d briefed the lot of them about what was to be done on this trip, who you were dealing with, and how long you’d be off for. They were all on board, now, and the only thing required was your boss’ approval.

And now you were all standing in the Chief Editor’s cabin, waiting for her to finish reviewing the team members’ profiles you’d collected and presented to her.

Your brain was nearly short circuited, at this point. If she said she wasn’t happy with any of your selections you were prepared to tell her to make the new selection herself, because there were only three more married people in this office, and none of them spoke Korean. There were only two more Korean speakers, but they were both female interns who’d be the worst nightmares to put on this project.

You looked at the six people standing next to you, all looking a varied degree of nervous.

But your boss looked impressed as she perused the file. She beamed at all of you, and then nodded. “Prepare for a six months’ stay, people, and prepare to do your best there. The only two real rules to remember are to keep it all a secret until the BigHit people are ready to disclose the news, and not fall in love.”

You all grunted in barely concealed annoyance at the last part, excluding Sana who bit her lip. You rolled your eyes. “It’d be a bigger concern for their partners than it would be to you, if that happens, boss. Don’t worry. We’re all a bunch of professionals, here.” You reassured your boss, shooting a glare at a fidgety Sana.

“I have complete faith in y’all. Now, off you go. Brush up your Korean, spend time with your partners.” She looked at you. “Or just, you know, catch up on lost sleep. You fly to Seoul this Friday.”

Three days from now, oh God.

You all trickled out of your boss’ cabin with furrowed foreheads. You had the most workload out of them all, though, because in addition to preparing to spend six months in a foreign land, you also were to prepare a formal itinerary for said six months. You, of course, were clear on the details because they were mentioned in the contract, but writing them out for your team would definitely take a lot of time.

You briefly wondered if you should employ Sana’s help, before quickly deciding against it. It wouldn’t do you any good to do anything to sway your professional relationship by asking for personal favours.

“Hey, Y/N, all okay?” Simon, the guy that was proposing to his boyfriend early because of you, asked you when you dropped into your office chair with a huge thump.

You turned to scowl at him. “You guys have got to stop asking me that all the time! When have you ever gotten a good answer?”

Simon’s eyes widened, and he quickly shook his head. “My bad.”

You kept squinting at his retreating figure. Another member of your team met your eye, before quickly scrambling away.

You hummed in thought. Did they all think you were a bitch? Maybe you were.

Good. It’d do you some good in Korea.

gimme feedback, much much appreciated!

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Tags: @tangledsparkles

#taehyung angst #bts angst #taehyung fluff #bts fluff #bts imagine #bts au #reposting bc it wasn't showing up in the tags #*mine #f: wbcs

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reflectionsofneptune · 5 years ago

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The Moon Transit the Signs

My thoughts on the Moon in Astrology through the 12 Zodiac signs. I've mentioned things to be mindful of during the transit, as well as how to work best with the energy.

Moon transiting Aries

When the Moon transits Aries, collectively we feel more confident in ourselves and are more inclined to put ourselves out there in life in the hopes of propelling us forward. The world is viewed with childlike wonder and inner faith is our guiding star. We feel more passionate and encouraged to go after our goals. During this transit, we are more apt to be assertive and say what we feel; sometimes with a directness that lacks tact. You are the creator of your life, and during Aries Moon transits, use the cardinal energy to get things going.

What to be mindful of:

- Impatience

Aries energy is very dynamic, full of energy with a preference to be on the go. Aries wants what it wants, and it wanted it yesterday. During this transit, you will have incredible force behind your actions but might find yourself getting frustrated if things don’t come to fruition as fast as you like. This impatience could veer off into a domineering attitude to those around you. Breathe. Inhale, exhale, repeat. Let things run their natural course.

- Acting selfish

Aries is the baby of the zodiac and concerned with the self. Nothing bad about a lil self-awareness but make sure the actions and decisions you carry out don’t have negative repercussions for those around you. Try to be aware of other people around you. Think things through. Its no good furthering your place in life if you’re stepping on other’s people toes unnecessarily to do so. When faced with decisions, try and look for one that can be made which benefits everyone.

How to work with this energy:

- Be your own hype man

The Fire element in Astrology is connected with our life force. The very fibre of our being. One thing you can’t deny about Aries energy is the unwavering confidence. During an Aries Moon Transit, find a mantra or create a mantra, and repeat it to yourself throughout the day. Cultivate an inner faith in yourself. Big yourself up.

- Say yes more

Aries energy is pretty much up for anything. Let’s use this daring energy to apply it to situations in our life that we feel uncertain about it. Tune in to the gut. During this transit can you take a risk in your life somehow? It can be big or small. What area of your life can you be brave in? I bet you’re still be breathing after you do it.

Moon transiting Taurus

As the Moon passes through Taurus, our feelings become more grounded and stable. We’re more conscious of what makes us feel emotionally secure. Collectively, we’re more inclined to see beauty or the lack of it, around us; taking stock of the material things in our life. Taurus energy is all connecting deeply with the self and its comforts. Emotions take on a practical and more steady approach. That being said, there is also danger of uncomfortable emotions being pushed down or past hurts being ruminated over incessantly. Let whatever comes up flow freely through you. During a Taurus Moon transit, make sure to smell the roses and appreciate the simple but essential things you have in your life.

What to be mindful of:

- Indulging too much in the wrong things

Taurus rules pleasure - especially connecting to the body - so during this transit, your relationship to food, sex, money and your possession may be highlighted. Be mindful of your consumption of these things and whether or not they are used as a tool to fill a hole in your life. Take a moment to tune in the body and its needs. Are the habits you have have with these things hindering or helping you to affirm yourself and your self worth?

- Stubbornness

Taurus energy can be very stubborn and clinging tightly to their views. During this Moon transit, be mindful of ways in which you tightly cling to a narrative or a belief system. It doesn’t matter if it’s right or wrong. Do you take into account other people’s viewpoints? Or do you shut people down before giving them a change? The great thing about life is that we have the freedom of expression. Be open to change in your life.

How to work with this energy:

- Come back home to self

The Moon is exalted in fixed earth sign Taurus, meaning that the highest vibration of nurturing and care can be expressed here. Show your body some TLC. It doesn’t have to be expensive. Go on Pinterest for DIY beauty treatments; some of the ingredients needed may be in your kitchen cupboard. Connect with your body. If issues surrounding your body come up, try and dig deeper into where they stem from. Think about your body’s ability to get you where are today.

- See abundance

Gratitude is a powerful tool in improving one’s life and during this transit, it is a good time to take stock of what you have to be grateful for you in your life. Write down 3 things you can be grateful, big or small, detailed or not, and remind yourself of these things when you feel a sense of lack. Taurus is a very fertile energy and by noticing the good in your life, you are sure to attract more of it.

Moon Transiting Gemini

When the Moon transits Gemini, collectively we may feel more light-hearted about life as feelings become more curious and playful. We feel mischievous and delight in pushing people’s buttons. Socially inclined, we gain emotional stability by connecting with people or exploring our immediate environment. There is a possibility that we find ourselves doing multiple things at once so be mindful to try and finish things as you go. Gemini energy can be quite restless so there is a danger of spreading yourself too thin. During this mutable airy transit, try and approach things from an inquisitive manner and not taking this too seriously.

What to be mindful of:

- How you spend your energy

Be careful of just engaging in pointless things. Gemini energy needs constant stimulation and movement which may lead you to giving out your energy carelessly, in hope of finding a release. You may find yourself in conversations that really add no value to your life but in order to feel accepted by your peers, you keep yourself plugged in. There could be a possibility that the mind can go off on a reoccuring ramble so it’s important to catch yourself if you fall into that pattern.

- How you’re using your voice

Gemini energy is connected to the throat chakra so it’s rightly so, during this transit we feel more talkative and want to connect with people. Gemini energy is all about connecting with people. However, Gemini is not adverse stir the pot to spice things up. Be mindful of the words coming out from your mouth. Are you bitching about people? Maybe you’re complaining a lot. When the Moon transits this mutable air sign, it is a good time to take stock of your communication style. How you use your words and how you think dictates how you life looks around you.

How to work with this energy:

- Communicate

Got an idea racing around the walls of your mind? Spit it out! When the Moon transits Gemini we may feel mentally overstimulated so it’s best to find a method of transferring all that energy outside our mental dome. Write it down, paint it, express it one way or another. Gemini energy is highly creative as the mental plane runs a million miles a second. Allow yourself to discuss what’s on your mind!

- Connect with people

Gemini energy is all about sharing information and ideas with people around them. When the Moon visits the social air sign, connecting with like-minded individuals will make you feel good.. It can be through conversation, text, email, letters, video call, the list is endless. Practice active listening so you can really engage with the people you care about. If you’re feeling daring, use this Moon Transit to flow in a flirty comment here and there.

Moon in Cancer

When the Moon transits cardinal water sign Cancer, you can bet your bottom dollar we’ll all be in our feels. On the bright side, this placement is where the Moon is in its rulership, so this transit offers us an advantage to really connect with our feelings if we’re willing to see the opportunity for what it is. Emotions can be highly nostalgic at this time and we may find ourselves reminiscing over the past or over our family. Collectively we may want to stay close to ‘home’, feeling tentative about putting ourselves out there. We may be more sensitive to criticism.. We need to be mindful over not letting our emotions dictate our actions and thoughts so strongly. When the Moon transits Cancer, our true feelings can be articulated more clearly as we feel them intensely at a core level.

What to be mindful of:

- Your feelings

Feelings are felt quite strongly during this transit and so we have the opportunity to tune in to them deeply. However, with this transit, we may feel more protective over our emotions. There could be a tendency to act out in an emotional manner that we hope the people around us, can identify our reasons for doing so. Not everyone is a mind-reader. Be mindful of any triggers that present themselves and the way in which you deal with them. Just because you’re feeling sorry for yourself, it doesn’t mean everybody wants to be invited to your pity party.

- Emotional manipulation

During this transit, be mindful of the people/places/things that you may be holding on to with a vicious grip, too scared to let go. Don’t turn to using emotional manipulation to get people to stick around. If that’s the method you take, you’ve already lost them. Change can be a scary thing but its inevitable in life. If all else fails, you will have always have yourself to count on.

How to work with this energy:

- Revisit your childhood

Give your inner child some love and attention. What did you do as a child that made you feel good? Was it making necklaces out of Pasta shapes? Or maybe it was watching that one film you had on video. Look back into bringing that into your present life. Home is where the heart is and you can always recreate that feeling of safety in your life.

- Connect with your family

It doesn’t have to be your biological family. It could be your soul family. Maybe a friendship group that feels like it’s your inherited family. Maybe online you’re part of a community that feels like home. Whoever it is, make an effort to reach and solidify your bonds. Cancer energy is all about connecting to your tribe.

Moon transiting Leo

When the moon transits this dramatic and eye-catching fixed fire sign, our emotions desire to be released creatively and in a dramatic fashion. Collectively, we aspire to be centre of attention and revel in praise from those around us. Romance is a driving force for us emotionally and we gain pleasure from flirting and connecting with love interests. We can be a little pouty when things don’t go our way. I die a little everyday when I realise the world doesn’t revolved around me. When the Moon transits Leo, take up space proudly knowing how amazing it is to be the unique individual that is yourself.

What to be mindful of:

- Your ego

Take some time to be mindful of being too self-centred and focused solely on yourself. Everything in life works on give and take. Are there areas of your life when you’ve been hogging up all the attention? Or thinking about only how things can benefit yourself? Praise someone else’s achievements. It’s great to be successful but isn’t even better when you have people around you to share that with?

- Dramatics

Be mindful not to act up in a way to to stir up attention from people around you. During this transit, we may be inclined to extravagance in our behaviour which can have the effect of repelling people away from you. We may feel slighted or take a hit to our self-worth when we don’t receive the adoration we think we deserve. What we crave from others, we can give to ourselves.

How to work with this energy:

Get creative

What talent of yours deserves to see the light? Leo energy is all about creative expression coming from the heart. Take this time to get stuck in to something you enjoy - being a fixed sign it will give you staying power - and just allow yourself to have pleasure. Try not to get swept into comparing your art with other people’s. Just accept it for what is. A beautiful creative piece of work, coming from you.

Work on your confidence

What have you accomplished in your life that looking back on you weren’t so sure you would make it? Fire energy is all about the self, and Leo is its own biggest fan. Use this Moon transit to tap into your inner confidence. What qualities about yourself do you need to give recognition? What makes you shine?

Moon transiting Virgo

Collectively, our feelings become more concerned with the details of our every day life, as our emotions are filtered through this analytical mutable earth sign. We have more discernment over what is working and what is not. We are more willing to make changes to improve the quality of our life. Virgo energy is all about refinement, so when the Moon transits this sign, we are more emotionally inclined to make changes in our lifestyle. We should be conscious of being too critical of ourselves and other people. When the Moon transits Virgo, remember that what you see in others, you see in yourself; the good, the bad and the ugly.

What to be mindful of:

- Being too hard on yourself

Virgo is notorious for being too damn hard on themselves. Perfection is the enemy of good. Not everything can be perfect. Sometimes, just showing up is more than enough. Under this transit, if you find yourself feeling hyper-sensitive to faults in your life, in your body, whatever the case may be, try and commend yourself for getting this far. Life is full of problems, so try and change your mindset into a solution focused mindset as opposed to a problem focused mindset.

- Worrying

Worries may be heightened under this transit, as does a feeling of rigidness and a desire to control the outcome. Worrying about something you cannot control is pointless and does no good for the mind, body or soul. Lean into not knowing everything or being able to account for everything. It’s okay to just flow with life and not know what’s around the corner. Sometimes you just have to let go and let God, Universe, whoever/whatever you believe in, take the wheel.

How to work with this energy

- Get back on your habits

Do you have some some goals in your life that you want to achieve? This Moon transit is a perfect time to outline necessary steps that will get you there. Anything you want in life is possible, you just need to prepare for its accordingly. Feel free to mix it up with spreadsheets, vision boards, or just write our the steps you need to take. Virgo energy favours diligence and organising your life, to be the best version of yourself possible.

- Declutter

This Moon transit will have you looking at your current lifestyle with a magnifying glass with things that are not working, standing out loud and clear. Virgo is all about efficiency so this transit is a good time to ‘Marie-Kondo’ your life. Holding on to excess mental, physical and emotional baggage can slow you down in life. Use this energy to get back on track.

Moon transiting Libra

When the Moon transits Libra, collectively we aspire to implement more harmony in our life, through our ability to relate to others. We are more apt to compromise for the sake of others. We gain great emotional satisfaction in our one-to-one relationships. Sometimes things just feel better when you have someone to share it with. There is a danger though, of conceding too much for the other party in hope of keeping the balance. Libran energy is very good at social etiquette but there’s no point in acting like everything is okay in front of people, only to feel the stark opposite when alone. When the Moon moves through the sign of Libra, balance must be sought out within, not just in external situations.

What to be mindful of:

- passive aggressiveness

Libran energy is very much tied up in their relationships with other people and sometimes this becomes a safety blanket. When the Moon is in Libra, we are very driven to maintain harmony in our life and so may not bring up issues that we feel like are unfair. This creates resentment in ourselves which isn’t healthy for us or in maintaining healthy relationships. Do yourself a favour and speak up about any imbalances in a relationship you may feel. There is a tendency to avoid confrontations of fear of losing approval in someone’s else eyes.

- Idealising people/situations

Libran energy is very attuned to seeing beauty in things. Be mindful of only allowing yourself to see what you deem is beautiful and acceptable. See the good but also see the ugly, in all its entirety. Use this insightful energy to weigh up situations for what they truly are. Not just for what you imagine or hope them to be. Give yourself the reality check.

How to work with this energy:

- Bring balance into your life

Where can you take back your power? Where you can honour your own needs and say no? There is a danger of being a pushover during this transit.Use the cardinal energy of air sign Libra to assert yourself. As a result, you will gain respect and attract the right people around you. Libran energy is good at playing the mediator so under this transit, you will be more inclined to see relationships from a detached point of view.

- Extend the olive branch

During this transit, the energy is diplomatic and favours seeing situations from someone else shoes. I’m not saying that you have to be beg for someone else’s forgiveness during this transit, but rather, use this Libran moon to your advantage and reach out to another. You don’t lose anything when you admit you were in the wrong. Try and mend any relationships in your life that you hold dear to your heart.

Moon transiting Scorpio

When the Moon in in Scorpio, it is said to be in fall. Vulnerability and emotional expression do not come as easily in this sign. Collectively we may feel more deep, intense, intuitive but also paranoid and suspicious. Unconscious childhood behaviour pattens may come up to resurface. We’re more inclined to want to appease our sexual desires or desires for power. Feelings of jealously or possessiveness may run strong and we may be more stubborn. When the Moon transits Scorpio, it’s a good time to get real with yourself and the nitty gritty of a situation.

What to be mindful of:

- Your shadow:

During a Scorpio moon transit, things that you have buried down within you are apt to say hello. Try not to ignore them. They’re coming up for a reason. Use this transit to be a A1 detective on yourself. Why do you behave the way that you do in situations like this? Why does that one thing trigger you so much? Opportunity is being presented for you to to heal yourself on a soul level. It may feel very uncomfortable but the rewards on the other side are priceless.

- Your bite

This fixed water sign can be quite ruthless when scorned so be mindful that you don’t act out on people around you in a way that you might regret lately. Try not feed into negative thought patterns. You can run yourself wild seeing everyone as a suspect or an enemy. Just because you’re feeling a type of way, doesn’t mean other people deserve to be treated in a horrible way.

How to work with this energy:

- Purge your feelings

Be honest with yourself. Be honest with someone else. Scorpio energy is all about the raw truth. Use this Moon transit to do just that and release any emotional turmoil within. This is a good time for releasing your frustrations out in a journal entry. Scorpio energy is linked to a phoenix rising from the ashes to be reborn. What’s weighing you down?

- Research

This Moon transit gives you the drive to dig a lil deeper. Find a topic that interests the hell out of your and go to town. Whatever it is, during this transit you have the motivation and drive to really get to the bottom of whatever you set your mind to. You more likely to understand and see the intentions behind other people’s motives too.

Moon transiting Sagittarius

When the Moon transits the fiery mutable sign of Sagittarius, collectively we feel optimistic and inspired about our place in life. Feelings are expansive and desires are juuuuust over the horizon. We feel restless, wanting to explore all that life has to offer. But be careful, you may over do yourself. There is a tendency to overdo things. This energy is all about grandeur and doing things bigger and better than what’s been done before, so be mindful that your actions aren’t unnecessarily aren’t over the top. When the Moon transits Sagittarius, you’re more likely to see the bigger picture in life, with an innate knowing that everything is interconnected. Everything happens for a reason.

What to be mindful of:

- Your risks

Sagittarius is in general a very lucky sign but sometimes their risks don’t pan out they way they had envisioned. Be careful not to put your foot in your mouth by overestimating a situation on your abilities. For what it’s worth, you had good intentions right? Be humble. Passion is essential in life, but sometimes you need to temper that fire with some realism.

- Running away

Sagittarius energy can be known for just running away to escape situations they would rather not deal with. Not dealign with something is not dealing with something. When the Moon sign transits Sagittarius, be mindful of just tapping out to daydream in order to avoid the harsh realities of life. Life has its various ups and downs. It’s all in your perspective. Feel confident in your ability to handle whatever life throws at you.

How to work with this energy:

- Immerse yourself in something different

Sagittarian energy is far reaching, with a connection to foreign places, spirituality and higher learning. When the Moon is in Sagittarius, try to connect with something different that what you already know. Perhaps you try your hand at learning a new language. Maybe it’s a new recipe. Perhaps you watch a film in a different language. Open your eyes to the beauty that exists outside your own culture and in this thing called life.

- Get inspired

This Moon transit is a good time to spend some time watching or listen to someone motivating. Dare to dream big. Look at the bright side of things. A lot of the luck linked with Sagittarius is really down to their ability to take risks and go for opportunities that other may pass up. What can you do to create space for abundance in your life?

Moon transiting Capricorn

When the Moon transits Capricorn, our feelings turn to our achievements and long-term goals in life. Our emotions are linked to our productivity. Collectively, we’re more inclined to want to get things in order and create structure in our life. Be mindful not to be so pessimistic about your current position in life or in our society. Moreover, pay attention to any tendencies to be dismissive of your own feelings and that of others around you. You may feel as if time is of the essence, and don’t want to be bogged down by people, places or things you don’t place significance on. The Moon is in detriment when it is in the sign of Capricorn, so extra care needs to put into actually feeling our feelings and not busying ourselves with work. You are enough.

What to be mindful of:

- Being too hard on yourself.

You may find yourself comparing to other people and feeling frustrated at where you are compared to them. Use this energy to motivate you instead of making you feel sad. Get clear on your long term goals that are crucial for your success in life and work towards them. What you want in life you can achieve, dedication and work is all that required to go the distance.

- Focusing too much on work

Ambition is heightened during this transit. Be mindful of focusing too much on work that you neglect the key relationships around you. Try and cultivate balance in priorities in your life. When the Moon transits Capricorn, there is a higher likelihood of feeling lonely so its crucial to have solid relationships to fall back on.

How to work with this energy:

- Network

Who can you email or reach out to to help get you where you want to be in life? Reach out to someone you admire. This transit can deliver some reality checks on your long-term vision. Revisit and revise your plans. A this cardinal earth sign will give you the steady confidence and practical vision to cement your way in the world. Capricorn energy is good at seeing the potential in things, so look for opportunity around you to strengthen your position in life.

- Respect your duties

Take some time to look over other areas of your life which require responsibility such as your bills, your savings, food shopping and any other obligations that may be present. Capricorn is often linked to being the breadwinner in a family and that is because this sign often has their ducks in order. Find a sense of peace in dealign with the little things that set up to be great.

Moon transiting Aquarius

When the Moon transits Aquarius, collectively we may feel emotionally detached as our focus turns towards society and our involvement in the wider world. We may be thinking of ways to improve the planet and the lives of those around us. in addition, during this fixed air sign transit, we may feel more connected to organisations or groups that share our common goals. The internet may be a ground upon which we connect with like-minded individuals. There is a danger though of feeling alienated or taking a stance of my way is right for all, though. When the Moon transits Aquarius, emotionally we feel secure in thinking of ways to advance humanity somehow.

What to be mindful of:

- Feeling close-minded

During this transit, you may be struck with sudden ideas on how to improve society but find that other people are not as open minded to it as you had hoped. Or perhaps, you yourself are resistant to others ideas. Be mindful not to be too attached to your ideals. There is no one size fits all. Not all opinions are gospel. Be open to other people’s points of views.

- Losing yourself in the group

It's great to be apart of something bigger but make sure that you are not losing your sense of individuality in the process. Take a moment to look at your motivations for aligning with a particular group. Make sure it truly reflects your values and there isn’t fear or shame behind your involvement. Be conscious of your ability to firmly identify with yourself in and out of a group.

How to work with this energy:

- Shake things up!

This Moon transit is the perfect time to deviate from your normal routine and try something new. Be rebellious and test boundaries (where applicable). Aquarius energy is all about the unexpected so who knows how great the results could be if you dare to be different. It could be something simple as switching the hand that you brush your teeth with, in your fashion choices or perhaps something quirky in your appearance. Whatever it is, try something bold!

- Think of your mark in the world

When the Moon transits Aquarius we may be subject to sudden insight about contribution to society. How are you fitting into the wider world? What can you do today that guarantees a better tomorrow? Perhaps you think about investing in more eco-friendly brands or donating to a cause that resonates with you. Aquarius energy is altruistic in nature, forgoing one’s individual needs for the betterment of society

Moon transiting Pisces

When the Moon transits mutable water sign Pisces, collectively we feel more liable to go with the flow, prone to daydreaming and engaging in our fantasies. We cringe away from the harsh realities of life by secluding into the comforts of our minds. Emotionally however, we may not be all that present. Emotions can feel confusing and subject to disillusionment. Profound insights about our life can be gained if we’re open to the subtle guidances. When the Moon transits Pisces, it is a time to be mindful of the level of your vibrations as you are more impressionable during this time.

What to be mindful of:

- Your secret vices

Everything in moderation, yes? When the moon is in Pisces, any addictive behaviours we have may rear their head. Addictive behaviours in all forms, be it through food, sex and people. Addictions are usually created to mask a feeling that we don’t want to feel. Use this transit to really dig deep into your feelings. There is a danger to wallow in self-pity during this transit but that approach won’t help solve your problems. Be real with yourself.

- Accountability

Pisces energy can be very much in the clouds, not wanting to deal with reality. Be mindful of telling little white lies or stretching the truth so that it fits in the with the version of reality in your head. Take ownership over your mistakes and where you have played a part in the demise of situations. Transparency is key in life. Not wanting to hurt someone’s feelings is not valid reason to not tell the truth.

How to work with this energy:

- Meditate

When the Moon transits Pisces, our intuition is heightened. However, we may find it difficult to separate fact from fiction. Pisces energy is great for getting silent and letting your higher guidance speak to you. You can start off small with just 5 minute guided mediations or practice being mindful in simple things such as having a cup of tea. Open up space for your intuitive wisdom to speak with you.

- Protect your energy

When the Moon transits Pisces, collectively we all are a little more in tune with each other. Boundaries could get blurred and what’s mine vs what’s yours could get a little confusing. Take some time to remove yourself from people, places or things that just don’t sit right with you. You’re more impressionable at this time so why spend it around low-vibrational people/places/things? Energy levels are subject to being low during this transit so its crucial that you surround yourself with what makes you feel good and nourishes your soul.

—————

/pt 1 - cancer placements sun - saturn

/pt 2 - thoughts on the moon in astrology

/pt 3 - twelve questions for cancer placements

/pt 4 - thoughts on cancer decans

/pt 6 - more thoughts on cancer placements

213 notes · View notes

alarawriting · 4 years ago

Text

52 Project #36: Escape from Sonnebend

Trigger warnings: This is a story about Meg. (Supervillain protagonist of my WIP novel, and the main character of story #18, “Thirteen”.) It does not have as much triggering content as the last story about her did, but Meg herself is triggering content. Story contains mentions of rape and torture, bioengineered diseases and horrible deaths. Also, being a victim of awful things doesn’t stop Meg from being a terrible person.

Title is shit and I may change it later.

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It’s been three days since anyone has ordered her to go anywhere, a week since she overhead two of the scientists talking about the future. Apparently Bush lost the election, and they expect Sonnebend to be shut down. Probably, the entire black ops agency that allows Sonnebend to exist will be shut down before Bill Clinton comes into power. She’d be eager to see it, except that she knows they’ll never let her go free. If Sonnebend is shut down, either they’ll send her to a different prison, keep her around to heal elderly politicians and work on their bioweapons… or they’ll kill her.

Activity has been winding down since mid-November. Now it’s mid-December and things are almost dead. High-powered researchers and administrators are taking their Christmas vacations. Meg doesn’t know if she’ll be alive when they come back. Are they moving their project to another location, or is it shutting down entirely? She doesn’t know if they know yet. She knows for a fact they’re not telling her.

Do they need to keep it open? They’ve got what they want.

She lays on the bed in her cell, because hiding under the bed doesn’t help. If she’s laying on the bed when the guards want to rape her, they’ll do it, and if she’s hiding under the bed, they’ll drag her out, beat her, and then do it. There’s no point to it. No point to trying to protect herself. No point in trying to protect anyone else.

Christmas is coming, but Meg strongly suspects she won’t live long enough to see it. Not like it matters. She remembers her last Christmas with David, the two of them in the tiny apartment on the 11th floor, a living tree that was heavy as fuck to carry but she’d gotten it up there with its pot and its soil, and she’d put it in the window so it would get sunshine, which meant they didn’t get any in the small common room because the tree was blocking it. David had experimented with chemical lights, blues and reds and greens and whites that ran on oxygen, slowly, and they’d covered the entire apartment with them, lights around every window they could see and lights around every door and lights criss-crossing the ceiling. She’d taken the drugs he was cooking up in order to test them, and as soon as she’d determined that they wouldn’t poison anyone, she’d let herself experience the high, giggling like the teenager she’d been as she lay back on the floor and pretended the ceiling lights were stars, making up fake constellations like The Butthole and Zeus’ Balls. All that December, she’d made cookies, pizzelle and horn cookies and Christmas-shaped iced sugar cookies and traditional New York black and white cookies, and eaten most of them because David had had a chronic low appetite and not much taste for sugar anyway. And then on Christmas she’d given him a Nintendo and a couple of games, and he’d given her a dozen CDs and Stuffy, a stuffed white and gray cat.

In August of the following year, the Special Service killed David, in his bedroom, unarmed. His blood ended up all over Stuffy. Meg never washed it out. His DNA embedded in her plush fur would comfort Meg when she cuddled Stuffy at night; it was a memorial no ordinary human would respond to, except perhaps in the abstract, but Meg could feel David’s DNA in the splatters of his blood. Slowly decaying – there wasn’t a lot of DNA in blood in the first place, since red blood cells don’t have nuclei, and it doesn’t last forever. But it was still there, the last time she saw Stuffy. In the townhome she shared with Tara, in her bedroom.

Is Tara still there? Is any of her stuff still there? It’s December. She was kidnapped in April. The billing service would probably have continued to pay the rent, but if Tara had moved out, Meg’s checks wouldn’t be enough to keep the lease.

Does it matter? Does any of it matter? She’s never getting out of here alive, is she? She’ll never see Stuffy or any of her other things or Tara or the apartment again.

She wants to cry, but she can’t. There’s no safety here, nowhere they can’t see her.

Four diseases, two viruses and two deadly bacteria, tailored to strike only Proximas. They’ll breed in the presence of catalysine, or they’ll look for the Proxima gene and insert themselves into the DNA there, breaking it in a way that will slowly poison them. They gave her no choice, but that’s a lie, there are always choices. She could have found a way to kill herself. She could have forced them to trigger the bomb around her neck. She could have waited until they had her in the sealed room, with the collar off, tasked with healing some important old man… and she could have killed whichever man she was supposed to fix that day, and forced her captors to shoot her.

But Meg wants to live. She did something terrible because she wanted to live, and she didn’t want to be tortured. She made those diseases. They gave her no freedom to do anything but study, genetics and biology and chemistry, on top of her medical school training and the training David used to give her in neurobiochemistry, and she used that knowledge to do what they asked. Because she knew they would check.

She remembers the blue homeless man vomiting, over and over, until he had no electrolytes left in his body and he died. The prostitute who could make a light show dance over her body, shaking and seizing until she was dead. The old man whose power mitochondria went into impossibly high gear, burning up all the phosphate and magnesium in his body to make too much ATP, and then his telekinetic power going out of control and tearing him apart. The homeless teenager crying as the poisons built up in his body. All her fault, and there will be thousands more, maybe millions, if her captors release the diseases they made her make into the population.

She hates herself, but she wants desperately to live, because she knows how to undo them all. She can immunize her people. She can. If she can get out of here alive. But the collar that suppresses her powers has a bomb in it. If she were to leave this place with it still around her neck… it would be the last thing she ever did.

There’s a click in the lock. Meg doesn’t look. She has no power over what’s going to happen, and if she turns her head to look, if she sits or stands up, if she visibly braces herself… then they’ll know she cares. They’ll know they’re hurting her, they’re frightening her. And she won’t give them the satisfaction… not until she can’t help herself, anyway. Without access to her powers, she only has a normal human ability to control herself.

“Get up,” a harsh female voice says.

Well. Small mercies. This isn’t going to be a rape, most likely. And they don’t torture her much anymore, not since she started cooperating. Torture doesn’t really work to get information – she knows that well, having tried it several times when she was a teen thug working for drug lords – but it works very well to terrorize people into doing as they’re told. But she’s been doing as she’s told. So it probably won’t be that.

It could be the execution she’s been expecting, but even if it is, there’s nothing she can do about it.

Meg gets up. Slowly, but not so slowly that the guard will decide she’s being insolent and shock her. The collar suppresses her powers, and it keeps her from escaping because of the bomb, but it’s also got electroshock capabilities, that all the guards can trigger by remote any time they want to. Electroshock’s how they captured her the first time – they went after her with the Special Service, the cops in hardsuits that her powers can’t get through, and the Special Service shocked her over and over, until her powers couldn’t handle keeping her conscious, and then while she was unconscious they put the collar on her neck. Since then, they’ve been able to shock her any time they want to, and they use it, frequently. Especially when they think she’s not being deferential enough.

She’s a former street kid and assassin for gangsters. She was living on her own since the age of 17. She went to superhero school with people who hated her, who’d fought her – and lost—when she was a supervillain. And she’s from Brooklyn. None of this lends itself well to respecting anyone’s authority or being deferential; she gave that up when she was thirteen and traded in a life as a Catholic school girl for a life in the criminal underworld. So when she first got to Sonnebend, they shocked her a lot.

She’s learned, though. Meg keeps her hate and her rage and her desire to commit bloody murder out of her eyes, out of her body language. If she ever has the chance, everyone who works here will die… but she’ll never have the chance, and she knows it.

The guard’s a black woman, head shaved, muscular. What progress America has made, Meg thinks bitterly. Now you can be a government thug and torturer even if you’re female and black! The guard motions her out the door, where there’s a second guard, this one a generic bland-looking dark-haired white man like practically every other guard in this place. “Keep moving,” the black woman says.

“Where are you taking me?” Meg asks. “What’s going on?”

“Keep your mouth shut,” the black woman says, but doesn’t shock her.

They’re taking her to her execution. She’s sure of it. Two guards usually escort her when she is taken anywhere, but she doesn’t recognize either of these two, and they’re not walking her in the right direction to be going either to the labs or the chamber with the one-way glass where she heals powerful old men, collar off but guns trained on her outside the chamber where she can’t see.

For a moment, Meg considers the possibility of killing these two guards. Even without her powers, she can fight; the absurd things she can do when she has her powers, the power-jumps, extending her arms, making tentacles, all that kind of thing… those are icing on the cake. All she needed to do to learn martial arts at master level was to find a dojo where the sensei had advanced skills and the urethane on the wooden floor had worn away enough that she could reach into her sensei with her powers and copy what he was doing down to the level of specific nerves firing and muscles contracting, and now she’s an expert. She could, maybe, grab the white guy, use judo to throw him into the black woman, then kick both of them in the jaw hard enough to snap their necks.

But what good would it do? She sees no evidence that they’re carrying keys that could unlock the collar; usually only a couple of specific people carry those keys, which have a distinctive appearance and are too large to hide in a pocket, and they wait for her in the chamber rather than walking around the base with them. She can’t get out, and any one of the guards can trigger the electroshock remotely, without even being near her, so she can’t escape. And if escape isn’t possible, what’s the point to killing these guys? It might make her feel better, for a few moments, but their friends will blow up her head, so it won’t help.

So she walks, with the white guy in front and the black woman behind, down a corridor she’s never traveled before. And probably never will again.

There’s a checkpoint, right before a door outside. The guard at the checkpoint looks up. “Where’s she going?”

“Where you think?” the black woman says, and hands him a sheaf of paper.

The checkpoint guy – another generic white dude, with sandy blond hair instead of black – looks at the papers, and then chuckles. “So I guess Williams and Becker aren’t getting a piece tonight, huh,” he says, and confirms what Meg suspects. Those are her execution papers. The guards who rape her nearly every night aren’t going to have the chance to tonight, because she’ll be dead.

Once again she considers killing them all. It won’t save her life, but at least it’ll take down a few of them with her. Once again she lets it go. Maybe, if she has a chance while she’s outside, since it looks like they’re taking her outside to do it. But she wants to see the sun again. If they’re going to bring her outside to kill her… then at least she won’t die in this nightmare building, where she hasn’t seen so much as a window since she was captured.

Is there snow outside? She doesn’t even know where Sonnebend is; no one’s ever told her what state they’re in, and with no windows, she can’t look at the sun and plants and try to guess. It could be Texas. It could be Florida. It’s probably not either since there aren’t enough guards with Latino names, but maybe it’s North Dakota. Maybe it’s Indiana. She has no way to tell.

The white guy with her chuckles, just a second later than you’d expect, like he’s not a native speaker and took a moment to parse what was just said. The black woman doesn’t. Stone-faced, she takes back the sheaf of papers. “Get moving,” she says to Meg, motioning her toward the door.

Outside, they’re behind the building. There’s a dumpster, and a loading dock, a short distance away. The black woman makes Meg walk in the opposite direction, along a wall with no windows or doors in it, nothing but unbroken beige brick. It’s cold; Meg’s breath makes clouds in the air. But there’s no snow. In the distance there’s grass and trees, but where they’re walking, there’s nothing but concrete. Meg stares hungrily at the grass and trees, at the sun in the sky, at the clouds overhead and in front of her mouth, as if she can make up for eight months of never seeing them by looking at them really hard, right now.

“Kneel down,” the black woman orders, and the tears Meg hasn’t shed in months well up. Not for herself. She has this coming. She may have tried to reform – first by being a superhero, then by becoming a doctor – but she’s always been a terrible person. She murdered her father, and then she became a murderer for hire, and then she’d helped David design drugs, and then she’d been a murderer again. She’d been a vicious jealous bitch around her first boyfriend, and had seduced her second, a man three times her age, just so she could take him away from her mentor. And then she’d gone to medical school, she’d tried to be a better person, but they’d kidnapped her and made her make diseases and because she was too weak to stand up to torture, many, so many, people will die. She’ll never have a chance to undo what she had done, to protect the Proximas of the US, or the world, against the engineered plagues she was terrorized into creating.

“Oh, you gonna cry now?” the black woman said.

“Fuck you,” Meg snarled through the tears. “I know you’re gonna kill me, so just do it.”

The woman sighed like she was at the end of her patience. “Kneel down, girl.”

“No. Shoot me standing up. I’m not gonna kneel to any of you anymore.”

“Have it your way,” the woman says, and points her gun at Meg.

It goes off, a deafening sound, but nothing that happens after that makes any sense. Meg sees her own body topple backward behind her, turning in time to see it fall, but she hasn’t been hit. There’s no pain. Is she a ghost? There’s her own bloody, headless corpse on the ground, and the black woman and the white man dragging the body off, but the black woman is also still here, tapping her foot.

“What—”

“Figure it out yet?” the black woman asks, and turns blue. The azurin mutation. In a small percentage of Proximas, melanin converts to azurin instead, and the person ends up blue. White people turn pale blue, with blue or green or purple hair, and black people turn deep blue, with blue eyes and blue hair. The buzzcut vanishes, replaced by a bright blue Afro that in shape and fluffiness looks like it came straight out of Cleopatra Jones. The woman’s face also changes, subtly, small aspects of eye shape and cheekbone placement altering, so she looks similar to the woman she was before, but not the same. Like sisters, or cousins. Except that one of them’s blue. Which means Proxima.

“You’re a Proxima?” Meg asks. She can’t quite believe this is really happening. She can still see the brown woman with the buzzcut and the dark-haired white man dragging her own corpse toward the corner of the building. Is this like Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge or something?

“Sure fucking am,” the blue woman says, and puts out her hand. “Shadow. Illusionist. And you’re Megamorph, the bio-controller.”

Meg has never heard her power referred to as bio-control, but it makes sense. Any organic tissue she’s touching, she can do nearly anything to, and any organic tissue she can reach through an organic channel, like a wooden floor or a shaggy wool carpet, it’s the same as if she’s touching it. She takes Shadow’s hand, tentatively. “Why… if you’re an illusionist, couldn’t you have told me what you were doing to begin with?” The tears are still in her eyes. Angrily, she wipes them away.

“Conserving power. I have to create the illusion of what they expect to be happening, and hide what we’re actually doing. The more you move around, the harder it is. Now kneel down. I was serious about that part.”

“Why?”

“Hard to rescue you if you’re missing a head,” Shadow says, and pulls off her belt something that looks almost, but not exactly, like the keys that unlock Meg’s collar.

“Those don’t look right. Are you sure they’ll work?” Meg hates that she sounds plaintive, almost whiny… but if Shadow’s here to rescue her, she really doesn’t want to get her head blown up on the verge of freedom.

“Tested them already. They’ve got some collared corpses in the pit around the corner.”

There’s a pit around the corner full of dead bodies. This doesn’t surprise Meg in any way – it makes perfect sense – but it horrifies her, hitting her in a nerve she’d have thought burnt out by all the horror she’s endured. Her knees go out from under her, which she manages to make look as if she’s kneeling like Shadow told her to, rather than that she’s half collapsing.

Shadow puts the key to the collar. There’s a clicking sound. Meg holds her breath despite herself.

And then the collar falls to the ground.

It works by magnetic induction, suppressing the part of her brain that controls her body’s production of catalysine, and suppressing the part that allows her to perceive and control her powers. Stopping the magnetic induction doesn’t instantly replenish her body’s catalysine, and without the catalysine, she doesn’t yet have any powers to perceive and control. So she doesn’t feel any different. “My powers will come back, right?” she asks, knowing it’s a stupid question – she knows how the collar works, she knows how Proxima powers work probably better than anyone. She knows they’ll come back. But at the moment, she feels painfully young, and not like an expert on anything. She wants Shadow to reassure her the way a mother might reassure a child.

Shadow nods, her expression gentle. “Of course they will,” she says. She reaches a hand down and helps Meg to her feet. “We need to get out of here.”

“Wait.” Meg takes a deep breath. She doesn’t want to admit to this, but she won’t let people die for her pride. “Do you know if… that pit, are there any of the victims there? The experimental subjects, of the bio-engineered diseases?”

“I figure that’s probably where they are, yeah,” Shadow says.

“I’m sorry, but… is there any way you can cover me to get in there? I… they made me make those diseases. I have to stop them, but I couldn’t keep samples. It’ll be a lot easier to inoculate people if I can get samples…”

Shadow grins. “Oh, yeah. We knew all about those diseases. That’s why the World Unity Collective decided to rescue you.”

World Unity Collective is Caesar Primus’ group, a supervillain gang dedicated to creating a world where the Proximas of the world unite and take over, which is supposed to bring about a utopia for everyone, Sapiens and Proxima alike. Meg thought it was a stupid idea when she first heard about it, training with Peace Force Tau, and she still thinks so. Proximas are different from Sapiens by exactly one gene, and there is absolutely no reason to think Proximas will treat the world any better than Sapiens have. But she doesn’t care anymore.

Over and over, in her prison, she called out in her mind, begging her mentor to hear her. Suri Chandrasekhar is the leader of the Peace Force, and an incredibly powerful telepath. Suri knew where Meg was going to medical school; if she was paying attention, if she cared, she would know Meg had been kidnapped, and with her powers she should have been able to find Meg… if she was looking. But she hadn’t. No rescue came from the Peace Force. And right now, Meg has reasons to hate Sapiens – reasons that are illogical, because there are billions of Sapiens and they cannot possibly all be responsible for the torments she’s suffered over the past eight months, but Meg’s reasons for hate are rarely all that logical anyway. If it’s Proxima supremacists who’ve rescued her, then yay for Proxima supremacy.

“I’ll ask you how you knew about the diseases later,” Meg says.

“Yeah. Let’s get this done quick.”

***

The pit’s covered with a tarp. As soon as she peels the tarp back, Meg has to shut off her sense of smell. She hasn’t eaten since the terrible cafeteria-grade scrambled eggs for breakfast, so there’s nothing in her stomach anymore – it’s all moved on to the intestines by now -- but if she had to smell this without her powers, she’d be puking up all of the nothing in her stomach over everything.

It’s not hard to find her diseases. There’s maybe twenty bodies in here, tangled together in a heap, most in a fairly advanced state of rot. All of them are infected. Or were, when they were alive. Apparently Sonnebend doesn’t kill lots and lots of people as a general rule. This isn’t a concentration camp; it’s a research facility, where part of the research is on how to kill people with diseases. And since the people had to be Proximas, that limited the supply; only one in ten thousand people has that one gene that differentiates Sapiens from Proximas. Can’t very well murder five thousand people in testing a disease if you have to screen fifty million to find them.

The viruses are easy. With the machinery of the cells stopped, they’re not replicating, but a lot of them are intact, easy to capture. The bacteria are harder. They’ve been dying since they killed their hosts. But there are a couple of subjects that still have live bacteria. Meg pulls them in and stores them in tiny nodules of fatty tissue in her breast, with no capillaries feeding them so they don’t have much chance to get out into her bloodstream. Not that it would matter; Meg’s powers automatically destroy any organic matter that would trigger an immune response. She can’t get sick. Even at Sonnebend, the fact that they removed her collar every few days so she could heal some politician or CEO or important donor meant that she couldn’t get sick; in the hour or so she had her powers, her body would destroy any potential source of infection. She’s going to have to be more careful to make sure her body doesn’t annihilate these infectious agents before she has a chance to engineer an inoculation or cure than she will to make sure they don’t actually infect her.

She climbs back out of the pit, with Shadow’s help. “I’m done. I’ve got everything I need.”

“Then let’s get the fuck out of here, okay?” Shadow says, and ten minutes later, they’re in a car parked outside the barbed wire fence, driving away.

“It’ll take them some time to figure out you’re not dead,” Shadow says, driving the car with a cigarette in her hand. “I took back the fake papers for your execution, so they’ll have a hard time figuring out who authorized it, or where I went, or who I even was. If they compare video feed of the outdoors to the indoors, they’ll see me and the fake guy I made walk back through the door but then never show up at the checkpoint right inside, and maybe that’ll give them a clue, but none of their video will have anything real.” She takes a deep drag from the cigarette. Meg wants to warn her about lung cancer and suggest she quit, but she looks up to Shadow too much to be her condescending prick doctor persona.

“What were you doing? Manipulating light?”

Shadow nods. “And sound, but fuck it’s hard. It’s so much easier for me if I just work on the brain. Altering myself and making another dude is almost the limit of what I can do with sound and light, whereas if I’m going in through the brain, I can make people see a full Hollywood spectacular. Aliens shooting laser guns all over the place. An army of Picts with bows and arrows. Whatever I want.”

“That’s really cool,” Meg says, somewhat awestruck. “Doesn’t that mean you really have two powers? Because a psionic illusion power and the ability to manipulate sound and light sounds like it’s two entirely different things.”

Shadow takes another drag on the cigarette. “Used to just be the psionic part. I got fixed up by a guy named Giovanni. Told him I wanted to be able to fool cameras. Closed-circuit cams were getting big around then. It was hard to pull a job when the security guys can see you on the cam, even if they can’t as soon as they get close enough to use their eyes.”

“Wait… this Giovanni guy can give people powers?”

“Yeah, though all he does is give Proximas new powers. He won’t give powers to a Sapien and he’s got some weird rule about what kind of powers he’ll give a Proxima, but what I wanted sounded to him like it’d work with what I already got. Gives me a motherfucking headache if I overuse it. I gonna need a whole fucking bottle of Tylenol tonight.” She laughs.

Meg puts her hand on Shadow’s shoulder. “No, you won’t,” she says. Her power can hurt when she invades people with it, unless she’s working to numb them or make them feel good, neither of which is safe to do while someone is driving… but it only takes a second, barely time for Shadow’s body to register that Meg’s power is inside it, to clear away the tension that’ll lead to a migraine.

Shadow turns her head. “What the fuck you doin’, girl?” she demands.

“I fixed it,” Meg says, beaming. “So you won’t get a migraine. I owe you a lot more than that, but that’s the least I can give back to you.”

For some reason Shadow does not look happy. She rolls her eyes and slumps slightly forward against the steering wheel, which is all right because they’re at a traffic light. “Listen, kid. I know you meant well, and I’m not mad. But you can’t just go doing things to people’s bodies without even telling them, let alone asking them. You gotta ask permission. If it’s a friend or an ally, anyway. I could give a shit, what you do to enemies and Sapiens, but with friends and allies you ask.”

“Oh.” Meg feels terrible. She’s overstepped a boundary she should have remembered, because in Peace Force Tau, Suri told her this, but she’s so excited to have her powers back and so grateful to Shadow and so desperate to show that gratitude, she forgot. “I’m sorry. I, I really should’ve known better, it’s just, I’ve been locked up so long… I’m really sorry…”

“Look, kiddo, forget it. S’alright. No harm done, and I do feel better. Just, remember next time. Ask.” She pronounces the word as “axe”. This makes Meg feel strangely nostalgic. One of her best friends from the days right after she got her powers, a teenage prostitute named Rhonda who was one of the most level-headed people Meg has ever known, used to talk that way. Most of the girls she’d known in those days had, actually. Whereas no one in the Peace Force or medical school would have used anything less than 100% proper English, like back in Catholic school.

***

It turns out Sonnebend is in Minnesota, near the Great Lakes. World Unity Collective headquarters is in Florida. They’re going to drive to Chicago to use something called a “transmat” to teleport to Florida, but lake-coast Minnesota to Chicago in Illinois is still what Shadow calls a “long-ass drive”. “We’d go faster if we had a boat,” Shadow jokes, and shows Meg the route on the map.

There are explanations. Shadow won’t tell her how she knew about the diseases – “you’re not cleared to know that, yet,” she says – but she explains eagerly why Meg was recruited. “We figured, since you created the bioweapons, you’d know how to stop them… and you might be able to stop others they come up with. Or create ones to threaten them with, if they keep pulling this kind of shit.”

“I don’t want to create bioweapons. Not against Proximas, not against Sapiens, not against anybody.”

“I hear you,” Shadow says. “You don’t have to. You do whatever you feel comfortable with, for the cause.”

Shadow talks a lot about the cause. Talks about being thrown out of her home for being a “devil child”, when she was 12 and turning from brown to blue. Talks about the Human Definition Amendment, a thing some conservative Senator has proposed that will define “human”, in the law, to mean “Sapien”, meaning Proximas will essentially legally be wild animals, with no legal protections whatsoever. Talks about Proximas being killed as “witches” in Africa, especially the ones with the azurin mutation, who couldn’t hide being Proximas, and being turned into weapons for the government in Russia and China and who knew where else.

Talks about the Special Service killing unarmed Proximas who are suspected of crimes, and that one hits hard, because that’s exactly what happened to David. His power was to see chemistry at the atomic level, completely useless for fighting, and he was a skinny twenty-something nerd and he wore coke-bottle glasses with a tint because he was photophobic, and he was unarmed, and they’d gunned him down in his apartment, and Meg had only lived because he’d sent her on an errand to find his lawyer. Because she’d assumed, when he said he’d need his lawyer after they arrested him, that of course, that was normal, that was how it worked. She was pretty sure he’d known they were coming to kill him, and had sent her on that errand because they’d have killed her too.

Caesar Primus – it means “Emperor First” and it’s pronounced the Latin way, like “Kaiser”, not like the salad – is, according to Shadow, the smartest and most experienced man on the planet. Meg assumes the experienced part is probably true, because apparently, he is somewhere around 2,000 years old, and was a gladiator in ancient Rome. She’s not so sure about smartest. The guy apparently still believes that Sapiens and Proximas are different species. A lot of people believe that, but mostly they are idiots, or at the very least, they know nothing of science.

He’s also bought into a lot of silly ideas about evolution, or claims he has and teaches them to his people. Shadow tells Meg that Proximas are the next evolution of humanity, superior because they are more evolved, destined to rule over humanity, and will survive instead of Sapiens because they are stronger. Meg can identify five errors in Shadow’s concepts of evolution off the top of her head, without any kind of deep dive, but she says nothing. If Shadow wants her to worship at the altar of Caesar Primus… Meg hasn’t done worship at an altar since she left Catholic school, not for anyone, but for Shadow’s sake, she’ll pretend.

And if it’s true, as Shadow implies, that Primus sent her to go rescue Meg, then she owes him as much for her freedom as she owes Shadow.

***

A transmat turns out to be a platform, where you put in some coordinates, step on the platform, and are instantly somewhere else, on a transmat platform elsewhere. It reminds Meg of Star Trek transporters, but makes more sense – she’d always wondered, how did the transporter beam know how to reassemble when it got where it was going?

The base is in a swamp, and the only ways out of the base are either to wade through alligator-infested waters, or take the transmat. Or fly, she supposes, for those that can do that. Wading would be annoying, but can’t hurt her; neither mosquitoes nor alligators, nor anything else in the water, can cause her any harm. But it’s obvious to her that that’s not going to be true for most people, and it bothers her a little. If the cause is so wonderful and important, why make it so hard to leave the base?

“It’s not to make it hard to leave,” Shadow explains. “It protects us from so-called superheroes, and it means that if you want to go anywhere, you have to take a risk. Keeps you strong.”

“But if you’re going by transmat that’s not a risk.”

“Yeah, but you can’t go anywhere by transmat unless Caesar agrees.”

The building’s far too much like Sonnebend. It’s made of concrete rather than bricks, a big brutalism box in the middle of a swamp, and there are windows all over the upper floors, but it goes down several floors underground. Sonnebend had linoleum tile and World Unity Collective headquarters has concrete flooring, like a warehouse, but either way there’s nothing alive, nothing for her powers to sense through her feet or the canvas shoes she makes herself from rubber and cotton. She’s not going to spend much time here, she can already tell.

“I need to go back to Baltimore,” she tells Shadow. “I don’t know what happened to anything I owned when I was kidnapped.”

Shadow is skeptical. “Do you really need any of that stuff, or do you just have a sentimental attachment to it?” she asks. “Revolutionaries have to be ready to break free of any material possessions, at any time. You can’t have sentiment. And here, your room and board are provided for, and I know with your powers you can make your own clothes whenever you want…”

“I want my medical textbooks,” Meg says. “I was trying to become a doctor when they kidnapped me.”

Now Shadow raises an eyebrow. “You think being a doctor is the best way to serve the cause?”

Meg smiles. That particular smile is the last thing some gangsters saw, once upon a time. “To heal, you need to know intimately how the body works and how everything fits together. That’s also what you need to know to be really creative about hurting people. You know, if it’s going to advance the cause to hurt someone in a particularly creative way.”

That makes Shadow laugh. “Oh yeah, I knew I was right about you. You’re gonna be a fantastic asset to the team, Meg.”

There’s no one else important in the base right now – Primus is apparently in DC, and his other top-ranked minions are away on various missions. No one here but Proximas with low power levels who work as grunts. Thugs, like she was once. The only person here to give permission for transmat use is Shadow, and she’s all in favor of Meg getting her medical textbooks once she understands what Meg can use them for.

Except that Meg’s read them all already. The term had been about to end when she was kidnapped. Her ability to directly sense bodies and how they worked had gotten her through med school in record time – she’d been there a year, and she’d learned two years’ worth in that time – and then Sonnebend had taught her more, because to create the diseases they wanted her to create, or heal the ailments of rich old men, she’d needed to know more. It’d been all she had to do that gave her any kind of pleasure in any way.

She’s not going back for medical textbooks. Shadow the true believer can give up material possessions and eliminate sentiment, if she wants. Meg believes in very little of this bullshit. She just worships Shadow for saving her.

World Unity Collective maintains a transmat in Grand Central Station, and Shadow’s able to advance Meg some cash, since of course she doesn’t currently have an ATM card, a credit card, or checks. Meg takes the subway from Grand Central to Penn Station, and from there the Amtrak to Baltimore, and then a cab to the Johns Hopkins medical school campus.

***

Meg walks down the street to the townhome she used to share with her roommate, breathing in the winter air. She can't stop looking at the buildings, the trees without their leaves, the sun behind the solid wall of white winter clouds. The people. There are so many people and they're so beautiful and they know nothing about the way the world really works, nothing at all. She wants to kill them, to save them, to tell them the truth. To take the men, at least, home and screw their brains out because she's free to choose not to, now. She doesn't do any of that.

She doesn't have the key to her old apartment any more, but the music inside tells her that her housemate Tara is there right now. Meg knocks, hard.

Tara opens the door. "Meg?" she asks, sounding shocked.

"Is my stuff still here?" Meg asks.

"Uh, yeah, yeah, of course. The landlady was just wondering where you were -- she says she's been getting your rent checks in the mail, but she sent us a note about the electric bill going up and you didn't increase the amount you were paying, and she was trying to get hold of you, but I had no idea where you were so I just paid it for you."

"I'll reimburse you." Meg walks into the apartment. She looks around the place. Everything is just as she left it. "Pack up my stuff for me and I'll have movers come get it. I'll pay the landlady for your share of the rent for the next two months."

"What happened to you, Meg? Where did you go?"

How does one explain that one was kidnapped by the government and has spent the past several months being raped, tortured and forced to work on biological weapons? One doesn't. "Something came up."

Stuffy is still sitting on her bed, David’s dried blood still all over her. Dried blood looks brown; she explained the stains on Stuffy as chocolate sauce to everyone in Peace Force Tau. Tara never went into Meg’s own bedroom, so she never had to make that explanation. Meg picks up Stuffy and puts her in her coat. She suddenly wants to cry, but badass supervillains don't cry, so she uses her powers to suppress the urge. She's going to have to figure out somewhere to put her. Obviously she can’t bring a stuffed animal back to a base full of supervillains.

"Meg, are you okay?"

She doesn't look at the Sapien who used to be her friend. "I'm fine," she says shortly, and thinks, No. Not even slightly.

Back on the street, it's cold and crisp and she can walk anywhere she wants. She can walk to a hot dog cart and get a hot dog. So she does. And ice cream. The whole time she was imprisoned she never had ice cream.

Tears sting her eyes again. Stupid that she has to keep using her powers for this. She should be tougher than this. She stopped crying after the first month in prison, never did it again until she thought Shadow was about to kill her. Why is she crying now?

When she was at Sonnebend, she never stopped wishing for her freedom, but she stopped believing or even hoping she would ever be able to walk around on a city street and buy a hot dog ever again. And then Shadow walked into Sonnebend and brought her out like Orpheus freeing Eurydice from Hades, except of course that Orpheus hadn't succeeded in the end. And Shadow did that because Caesar Primus had ordered her to. Most likely. She’d never specifically said, but Meg could read between the lines.

If Primus sent her to rescue Meg, Meg will do anything for him.

Meg knows his ideology is ridiculous. Right now she doesn't care. She'll burn the Sapiens' world down for what they did to her, and she'll enjoy herself doing it. Out of gratitude for the gift of her freedom, she will do anything for the people who saved her.

She’s got financial things to arrange – Meg has a lot of money. Being the most terrifying killer in New York City used to pay really well. She’ll reimburse Tara, get movers to take all her stuff to a storage unit. Buy some clothes – she doesn’t need new clothes, since her powers can reshape the ones she has, but she likes to shop for clothes. She likes to dress up in clothes that make every man around want to fuck her, and maybe she’ll pick some of them out and do it. She hasn’t had sex because she wanted to in eight months. Maybe she’ll fuck away some of the memories of Sonnebend before going back to Primus’ hideout.

And then she’s going to be the most vicious badass she can possibly be, with all the skills she acquired as a teenage assassin and all the knowledge she gained in Peace Force Tau, and Johns Hopkins medical school, and Sonnebend. She’s going to combine it all and she’s going to make Shadow proud of rescuing her, and Primus of telling her to do it. And she’s going to make humanity pay for what they did to her.

#52 project #proximas #cold light #holidays5 #superpowers

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gendernewtral · 4 years ago

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POTS is incredibly common, severely underdiagnosed, and misinformation flies all over the place.

POTS is a condition defined by a heart rate rise (tachycardia) of 30 or more bpm within ten minutes of standing, and is diagnosed after the condition has been present for at least six months. this rise is a result of autonomic nervous system dysfunction that causes blood to pool below the heart, which can also cause low blood pressure. the heart reacts by beating very fast, which causes the symptoms of POTS.

shortness of breath, heart palpitations, dizziness, and nausea are very common symptoms. one of the other common but far less discussed symptoms is confusion and disorientation. blood pooling lower than the heart means that there is less blood going to the brain, which can give a feeling of fogginess.

some POTS symptoms are relieved by sitting and laying down. putting the feet above the heart helps move blood back to where it should be, which reduces the heart rate. general management for POTS symptoms includes increased sodium and water intake (significant increase), compression clothing, and eating smaller meals more frequently.

POTS is commonly diagnosed, or presents, with other conditions. it can stem from other conditions such as diabetes and other autoimmune disorders as well. COVID has been triggering and causing POTS in some people. if you suddenly have symptoms like the ones listed above and had COVID at some point, it is worth it to try and speak to a cardiologist about POTS and tilt table testing.

some stories from individuals

article i wish id had

a comprehensive guide

article about POTS and EDS

yet another article where someone was undiagnosed for years

preparing to discuss POTS with a doctor

ive had POTS for years as a secondary condition to type one diabetes and have still not been formally diagnosed. it is disabling for me but has not yet been acknowledged by doctors. if you have it, it’s incredibly unlikely it will not be caught by a doctor unless you explain your symptoms in detail. getting a diagnosis and help with POTS is hard, but your symptoms are real, and you’ll be able to manage them.

No, but seriously. If whenever you get up from wherever you start to feel faint, get palpitations, get numb, get nauseous, get light-headed and/or literally feel your blood drop to your feet, check the symptoms of Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome.

#sters add ons #cpunk #i feel very very strongly about sharing information on pots

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seiyuuslittleforest · 5 years ago

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Okamoto Nobuhiko LIKELY didn’t cheat on his wife

Please read PREVIOUS POST first <<

I was trying to make some sense of story of Okamoto Nobuhiko and the mysterious woman from Weekly Bunshun (WB) and this is what I want to share with you :)

Part 1: a statement from a hotel staff:

この日は待ちがでるほど客が混み合っていました。It was a really busy day

お二人も少し待って入室されています。That two were waiting for quite sometimes.

フロントでもずっとマスクを付けており、周囲を警戒しているようでした」（ホテル関係者）They seemed to be cautious of their surroundings and wore mask the entire time, even on the front desk (Hotel staff).

My first and main question is:

WHICH STAFF.

Hotel staff are not allowed to talk about their guests, as it is a part of confidentiality. Bribery can work, however, when “It was a really busy day”, I strongly doubt that the staff will have enough time to have an in-depth conversation whatever amount you’ve slipped to them. I believe that fans who have some experience with working in hospitality industry will gladly elaborate more on this topic :)

Another argument is that WB can come back the next day. But as hotel staff usually works on shift basis, this mean that WB is risking asking about Okamoto only to receive information of someone else. And as much as Okamoto Nobuhiko’s face memorable in the anime industry, he doesn’t stand that much on the crowd, especially because of:

The Mask.

With Covid-19’s panic everywhere, the use of mask is more justified than ever. Even now in Australia, I will see people who wears mask 11pm in the night. This also explains their ‘anxious’ behaviour as social distancing is now practically mandatory, and as someone whose job relied on their voices, I kind of understand why they will feel uncomfortable. In addition, the mask brings another issue, such as, remembering people’s face from only their eyes and hair because attires do change.

This scenario, however, only valid IF it’s genuinely come from a ‘staff hotel’ and not some BS that WB pulled out. Moreover, the staff hotel in this scenario supposed to fulfil certain conditions, such as able to work 24hrs, can remember any hotel quests with only eyes and hair visible, always have time to chat despite the hotel being ‘extremely busy’, and last but not least, has very understanding co-workers who let them chat with non-guest asking confidential questions.

I believe that finding a unicorn is somehow way easier.

Part 2:

ホテルを出ると共演者と合流 Leaving the hotel and get together with other Seiyuus

　22時半頃、2人はホテルをでるとすぐにタクシーへ。10.30pm, the two people leaved the hotel and boarded on taxi.

岡本は女性を新宿駅に送り届けると、再び歌舞伎町へ向かいイベントの共演者らと合流。Okamoto Nobuhiko sent the mysterious woman to Shinjuku station, then he returned to Kabukichou and joined others seiyuus on an event (gathering).

鍋を囲みながらドラゴンボールの話題で盛り上がり、妻と暮らす都内のタワーマンションへと帰宅した。He was excitedly talking about Dragon Ball while having hotpot, then he went back to his place to his wife.

女性はその後、約1時間かけ電車で郊外へと移動し、同世代の友人らしき女性と合流していた。The mysterious woman took approximately 1hr train to a residential area where she joined her similar aged female friends.

Firstly, I would like to thank Nobu for sending the mysterious woman to the train station.

Kabukicho at night can be dangerous because its full of drunk people, host/hostess, soap land girls, and yakuza. Whatever their relationship is, I thank him for thinking of her safety. For I always believe that every woman deserves to go home safely regardless.

Looking at Nobu’s attire, I believe that he just finished working and that that day wasn’t his day off. And adding that to the second statement of the story, that Nobu joined his co-workers after back from station, it just makes more sense that Nobu and the mysterious woman were literally together with other VAs inside the “Love Hotel”.

The very possible scenario is

that the VAs had finished their work for the day and decided to hang out. They went inside the “Love Hotel” (or likely the Cafes), and around 22.30 the girl needed to go somewhere else so Nobu sent her by taxi. After that, he just returned to hanging out with his friends again.

This scenario is of course, possible but not without flaws. It can be that other VAs and their significant others have known about Nobu cheating on his wife so they just waiting for him screwing for 2 hours. Or that they don’t know about it, and Nobu just being so stupidly confident and chose a ‘hotel’ so close to the place his friends and co-workers hanging out.

Okamoto Nobuhiko previously had pursued a career as a professional Shogi player and I believe that he has more common sense than that.

The one that really stand out for me is the Nabe (hotpot)

Nabe is crucial here because it is a ‘friendship’ dish. In Japan, you only eat hot pot (e.g nabe, shabu-shabu) with the people you consider as close friends. In this current global pandemic situation, it means that if one of them got sick, the rest would likely to be too. The level of trust showed in this situation is very high!

The more I think about it, the more I understand why Okamoto Nobuhiko chose to apologize in hope that it will just go away soon.

Because whoever he is protecting, they are the people who are important to him.

There’s no winning in this situation and I believe that Nobu himself know about it the best.

Once more, it doesn’t change the fact that he was witnessed coming out of a “Love Hotel” with a mysterious woman. I hope, that whoever, wherever, and whoever that mysterious woman is with, she is safe and sound.

I wish it even more for Okamoto Nobuhiko and Ogame Asuka to continue their previously peaceful and fulfilling life and career, and hope that this situation too, shall pass.

Note: the meaning of Nabe’s credit goes to Kaji Yuki. It related to Nanatsu no Taizai’s cast’s favorite dish, pork shabu-shabu. Kaji mentioned before that when they finally ate hotpot together, he realized that the cast are no longer his co-workers only. They are his friends.

#seiyuu #okamoto nobuhiko #ogame asuka #and thats it :) now I'm done :) :)#its now 51%:49% compared to the 50-50 before

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imaginaryelle · 4 years ago

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Turnabout and Start Again

Part 8

(aka, the soulmates role-reversal au)

Note: My knowledge of meridians, qi, acupuncture and traditional Chinese medicine is based on incomplete personal research and wuxia tropes, and I am very likely to have gotten some things wrong in my presentation of the concepts Wen Qing uses in this chapter. I’m working mostly on the idea that this is a fantasy world based on a fantasy genre with some real world connections, and so accuracy is not my primary concern, but if I got something completely wrong, or present ideas in a way that is unintentionally offensive, I am happy to learn and edit in corrections.

Thanks again to @morphia-writes and @miyuki4s for the continued beta help!

They find Wen Qing tending to simmering pots of medicine outside a large, airy building that Wei Ying describes as part infirmary, part training hall. Three disciples are fanning smoldering embers and sorting fresh herbs under her direction, and the sunny courtyard smells so strongly of bitter tonics and woodsmoke that Lan Wangji has to swallow back a cough.

Wei Ying pauses just outside the arc of tables and stoves and lowers his voice to a murmur.

“Wen Qing is trustworthy,” he says, “but if you don’t want to share your identity—”

“It’s fine.”

“—I know you didn’t tell Zewu-jun so I can probably—what?” Wei Ying blinks at him.

“You trust Wen Qing.” It’s barely a question—the strength of their relationship is evident in how Wei Ying speaks of her—but Wei Ying takes it seriously.

“With my life. With—with anyone’s life.” he promises, so readily Lan Wangji cannot doubt him.

“And you believe she can help with the curse.”

“I hope she can,” Wei Ying looks over his shoulder at her. “She’s very good. I told you she saved Zixuan-jiefu and Shijie—if you remember—”

Lan Wangji could not have forgotten. The image of the Jin heir, pallid and barely breathing with the glow of a soulbond spilling out of his open chest, is one that haunted his dreams in the days he spent searching for Wei Ying afterward. Thirteen years past by the calendar; only months ago in his memories.

“She knows more about spiritual energy than anyone else I’ve met,” Wei Ying is saying, moving his hands for emphasis.

“You trust her,” Lan Wangji repeats. “I will trust her.”

“You—okay.” Wei Ying blushes. He turns away and strides quickly across the courtyard and Lan Wangji can see the flush moving to his ears and down his neck. It’s distracting enough that Lan Wangji misses the start of their conversation, caught trailing a few steps behind and unable to look away.

“We have a schedule,” Wen Qing is saying. “We have appointments for people who aren’t actively bleeding. What’s so urgent that you’re ignoring all that?”

Wei Ying pouts, which clearly only makes Wen Qing more annoyed. “His spiritual power’s been damaged,” he says. “I thought you’d be interested.”

She manages to stare down her nose at him, despite the difference in their heights. She looks Lan Wangji up and down. He bows.

“I apologize for the imposition.”

“It’s not your fault,” she says, shooting another glare at Wei Ying. Then she sighs. “I’ll meet you inside in a moment.”

Wei Ying grins, and bows, and drags Lan Wangji up the building’s steps. Wen Qing’s workspace is simply decorated and smells of incense, with only the faintest whiffs of the courtyard’s activities seeping through. The room is lined with bookshelves and divided cleanly into a study space, complete with three long desks, and an examination area, screened off from general view. Wei Ying guides him to the private side of a standing screen painted with willow trees and urges him to sit.

“Someone will bring tea soon,” he says, settling on a nearby cushion. “Not like your last visit. We can actually afford guests now. Wen Qing’s medicines are a much better source of income than radishes.”

Almost anything would be, Lan Wangji is certain. It had been—unpleasant, to realize the depths of Wei Ying’s poverty at that time. Sleeping in a cave that smelled of death without even the cheapest of teas to ward off the damp chill.

He wonders, again, what might have happened if he had stayed at Wei Ying’s side after that visit. If he had not let himself be convinced that his presence was only one more burden on people already carrying too much weight; if he had known his own mind well enough, then, to stand and lend open support before disaster fell on all their heads once more. How much difference might those months have made? Would his brother have understood? What would his clan have done then, if he had acted before all hope was lost?

Such speculation can only lead to further unhappiness. He is about to ask if Yiling-Wei also collects payment for nighthunts, as most Sects do, or sells talismans, when a young apprentice arrives with tea. Wen Qing is only a few steps behind her. Her attention lands on Wei Ying again.

“Don’t you have better things to do than bother my patients?”

“I want him here,” Lan Wangji says before Wei Ying can respond. Perhaps the interjection will be taken as rudeness, but Wei Ying can explain the curse much better than Lan Wangji himself would. No other reason for desiring Wei Ying’s presence must be stated.

Wen Qing sighs in the face of Wei Ying’s too-innocent smile, but does not comment further.

“I am Wen Qing,” she says after the tea has been served and the apprentice dismissed. “As Wei-zongzhu has likely already told you, since he can’t be bothered to make proper introductions.”

“I ...” Lan Wangji hesitates, pressing his lips tight together. “We have met before,” he clarifies. “I am Lan Wangji.”

Wen Qing hardly even blinks at him; her gaze shifts immediately to Wei Ying.

“It’s true.” Wei Ying looks earnest and sincere. He pulls the array drawing from a qiankun pouch. “He knows things only Lan Zhan would know. The original owner of that body was called Liang Feihong, but he gave it up.”

“You’re certain?” Wen Qing asks, her stare unwavering.

“Completely.” Wei Ying assures her. He does not mention the soul bond.

“Hm.” Wen Qing studies the array. “This is unfinished,” she observes, tapping the paper.

“But you can see the shape.” Wei Ying leans into her space, against her shoulder, tracing over the drawing, as if they do this often. Perhaps they do. There are probably many ways arrays and talismans can be used to promote healing. Lan Wangji makes himself drink more tea; it is fresh and green and light on his tongue.

“Exchange,” Wei Ying is saying. “One soul spent to make room for another, in return for service. In this case, revenge. It’s designed for a vengeful spirit, but Liang Feihong called Hanguang-jun instead.”

Wen Qing stares down at the paper. “You’ve never mentioned this ritual before,” she says after a long moment of silence.

Wei Ying shrugs. “It’s ancient. I found it when I was working on Wen Ning, but it usually fails. I haven't thought about it in—” his eyes flicker over Lan Wangji’s face, “—years.”

Wen Qing stares hard at him. “You said you were going night hunting.”

“I was, I did,” Wei Ying stares back, unblinking, and Lan Wangji is no longer sure he’s following the conversation. “It was only a night hunt,” Wei Ying insists. “Lan Zhan found us last night. He walked for three days.”

Still, Wen Qing watches him.

“Is there a problem?” Lan Wangji asks.

“No.” Wen Qing returns her attention to him. “Tell me how your spiritual power was damaged.” She holds out her left hand for his wrist. Her hand is cool on his skin.

He looks to Wei Ying as her fingers find his pulse, but Wei Ying just nods at him, apparently unworried by the tension that has filled the room, that can still be seen in the stern lines of Wen Qing’s posture. He does his best to answer the question despite the feeling that he’s missed something important.

“I believe it was a talisman. There is also a curse mark, from the ritual.”

Wei Ying produces the talisman and sets it beside the drawing of the array, But Wen Qing is frowning at Lan Wangji’s wrist.

“Tell me about the curse’s effects.” She shakes her head to forestall Wei Ying’s words. “The effects you have experienced,” she clarifies, to Lan Wangji.

“It drains spiritual power.” That much he knows to be entirely true. “I believe my physical weakness is due to imprisonment and inconsistent training.” Liang Feihong left the Lan Sect nearly fifteen years ago, after all.

Wen Qing drops his wrist, her fingers moving to his middle dantian and then to his face. She turns his head gently, and then drops her hands to her lap and studies the talisman.

“It’s not only the curse,” she says after a moment. “Your core’s been damaged. Not by this,” she gestures at the talisman. “This can only produce temporary effects. Something else.”

Wei Ying leans forward, suddenly intent. “Damaged? Not—”

“Not destroyed,” Wen Qing shakes her head. “But it will take time and effort to restore it, and the curse will complicate the process. It will be difficult to re-establish the proper energy flow.”

“But it can be done,” Wei Ying presses, concern clear on his face. Wen Qing nods.

Lan Wangji says nothing. He has known, since his first investigations on the first day of this new life, that if this body had ever formed a golden core it wasn’t functioning properly. A damaged core is a better prospect than no core at all, but he again feels like there is some piece of information he’s missing, carried in the weight of Wei Ying’s concern and the careful calm of Wen Qing’s words.

“I will prepare medicines and teas to aid the process,” Wen Qing continues. “And I would like to conduct a more thorough examination, if you’re willing.”

Lan Wangji nods. He has no reason to refuse, and could gain much from her expertise.

The examination lasts over an hour, through to a light lunch and then after, and involves more needles, talismans and salves than Lan Wangji has ever before experienced in such close succession. Wen Qing inspects the wounds in his palm as well as the curse mark itself, and produces new ointments and bandages for each, and another of Wei Ying’s talismans for the curse mark, before moving on to other, more obscure avenues of investigation. Wei Ying stays for all of it, sometimes talking out theories and suggestions from the other side of the privacy screen, sometimes scribbling notes at Wen Qing’s desk.

“The curse’s caster is dead,” he says, waggling an ink-wet brush between his fingers, “but could the curse be transferred?”

“No.” Wen Qing doesn’t even open her eyes to answer. The spiritual power she feeds into Lan Wangji’s wrist, apparently meant to help her better map the damage to his core, never wavers.

Wei Ying frowns. “Most curses—”

Wen Qing frowns, too, a furrow appearing between her brows. “This links to soul as well as body and spirit. Even if it could be transferred, I wouldn’t help you do it.”

“Not even if it was transferred to the curse’s target?” Wei Wuxian asks.

“Not even then,” Wen Qing says. She sighs and releases Lan Wangji’s wrist. “I need to see to my apprentices, and I have another patient soon.” She meets Lan Wangji’s eyes. “Come back in the morning. I should have more for you then.”

He nods.

“Don’t stress him in the meantime,” she adds, pinning Wei Ying in place with a look.

“Of course, of course,” Wei Ying assures her as he rises to his feet and stretches theatrically. “Only the best of hospitality for Lan Zhan,” he adds, a smile spreading over his face.

Wen Qing shakes her head, and waves them out the door. Wei Ying continues his tour of the Yiling-Wei grounds, leading Lan Wangji on a winding path past dormitories, and kitchens, and a less martial training hall—“for talisman work and spirit lure flags,” Wei Ying says, “It’s no Lan seminar but we do classes for outsiders sometimes.”

Yiling-Wei is a smaller sect than Gusu-Lan, both in land area and in population, but the grounds are still busy. Lan Wangji cannot help but notice the eyes on them at each new turn. It’s only reasonable; he is a stranger, walking with the Sect Leader, after a night hunt that lasted several days. Wei Ying has not so much as read a letter or spoken with anyone but himself and Wen Qing since they arrived. Lan Wangji has seen his brother’s work, and his uncle’s. This attention cannot last forever. Should not.

“I am keeping you from your duties,” he says as they stand at the edge of an archery range and watch Wen Sizhui and Liu Weixin loose arrow after arrow under Wen Qionglin’s expert tutelage.

“Hm?” Wei Ying seems distracted. Unfocused.

Lan Wangji curls his fingers in his sleeves. He has been selfish enough, taken enough of Wei Ying’s time—nearly a day of it. Wei Ying has more responsibilities now. He cannot spend so much effort on a single visitor.

“Do not let me take your attention away from important matters,” he says.

“What?” For a moment Wei Ying looks as if he will protest, but then he glances away, back to the archery field. His expression smooths to neutrality.

“Right,” he agrees. “I should—show you the library, at least. I know we have a few texts you might find useful.”

The library turns out to be a small pavilion lined with shelves and desks, much like Cloud Recesses’ in design but clearly smaller and holding a less extensive collection of books. The texts Wei Ying means are tucked on a high shelf behind a finely-carved screen, and their contents largely concern either curses or talismans.

“Wen Qing has more on core formation in her study,” Wei Ying says as he sets his half of the stack on a small, almost-secluded table near a window. The charmed covers of the remaining books tingle against Lan Wangji’s uninjured palm. “Not that you need much help there.”

If what Lan Wangji understood from Wen Qing’s examination is true, repairing his core will be a very different process from forming one new, but he does not correct Wei Ying.

“Is there anything else you need?” Wei Ying asks, as a good host should. “I’ll ask the kids in the practice yard to try and keep their voices down, I know it’s louder here than Cloud Recesses...”

“It will be fine,” Lan Wangji assures him.

“I’ll—see you at dinner then,” Wei Ying says, and bows, more formal than the situation demands. Lan Wangji returns the gesture, books still in-hand, and tells himself Wei Ying will not vanish to smoke and mist as soon as he leaves Lan Wangji’s sight. That he will be easy to find again, here in his home, among friends. That Lan Wangji has no right to demand even more of him.

Wei Ying hesitates another moment, then leaves. Lan Wangji watches him go and thinks again of that flush on the back of his neck. On his cheeks. Wei Ying hadn’t blushed when he hid pornography in Lan Wanji’s books at sixteen, or when he held Lan Wangji’s forehead ribbon in his hand at seventeen, or when he threatened to take off his clothes in the Xuanwu’s cave.

It’s difficult to imagine that a simple statement, alone, could make him flush after so many years. But it did.

Lan Wangji sits at his appointed desk and opens the first text with careful fingers, and does his best to block out everything but the words on the page before him. The readings are, indeed, informative, and several of them document Wei Ying’s own studies into curse formation and removal; there is an entire treatise on the hundred-holes curse alone, though it is almost entirely theoretical. The curse is too rare, Wei Ying notes, and too costly for both victim and caster, for frequent or multiple experiments. Such is likely also true for the curse Lan Wangji himself bears, but the texts at least reassure him that following Wei Ying was the correct choice for more reasons than the pull of his heart.

It’s Zhou Xiuying who summons him to dinner, guiding him to a seat at Wen Qing’s table before joining her wife on the other side of a loud and crowded communal dining room. The dishes set before him are heavy with lotus root and mushrooms alongside roasted pork, and, he notes, heavily spiced. Wei Ying does not arrive at the evening meal until Wen Qionglin leaves to fetch him, and he settles down at the crowded table with a sigh, slipping onto the cushion next to Wen Sizhui and across from Lan Wangji.

“Why aren’t you all eating already,” he asks, as if it is not obvious they were waiting for him.

“You’re late,” Wen Qing informs him, adding fried lotus and mushrooms to his bowl even as he serves himself meat and soup stained red with chilies.

“Wei-zongzhu should eat on time,” Wen Qionglin asserts. There is no bowl before him, though he holds a pair of chopsticks. A fierce corpse does not need to eat. He adds lotus to Wen Sizhui’s bowl, and then Wen Qing adds stir-fried greens and then Wei Ying adds pork, proclaiming that the boy needs regular meals far more than he does, and a sudden pang strikes deep into Lan Wangji’s chest.

He serves himself from the milder-looking dishes. It’s pointless to be jealous of Wen Qing and Wen Qionglin’s places at Wei Ying’s side, and in his heart. Of the easy, well-trod patterns and open affection Wei Ying gives them. It’s pointless, but that knowledge doesn’t stop the sour swell of frustration and ill-feeling within him.

He pushes the feeling away. He is a guest. They are being much kinder than simple hospitality requires. He eats in silence—the food is not unpalatable, as he feared, and he cannot tell if it is due to the actual flavor or if Liang Feihong was more used to such things—and he listens in silence as Wei Ying talks and laughs, lit up the way he used to be, before the Sunshot War. Several times, that beaming smile is turned on him, paired with questions about the food, or his reading, and offers of new dishes tomorrow, despite his protests that he needs no such special treatment. But still, Wei Ying is guarded with him in a way he is not with the rest of the table. It is strange to hear ‘Liang-gongzi’ fall from his lips again, instead of Lan Wangji’s name.

Eventually, he retires to his guest quarters. It’s only then, as he prepares to sleep in an unfamiliar room decorated with red and black instead of white and blue, that he realizes the knot of feeling in his chest is not the same emotion he thought it was. Or not entirely.

It has been more than three months since he shared a meal with his brother, or a conversation with his uncle, and before that he was holding his blade against them. The thought that he doesn’t even know whether his uncle is alive—that he might never speak to him again—hits him like an arrow, a flash of remembered pain from wounds he no longer bears. In its wake, the knowledge: If he cannot find answers, or stabilize the curse, he may never speak with his brother again either.

For a timeless moment he is hollow and grasping white-knuckled at his robes, his ears ringing and his breath caught in this throat. But he has already made this choice. He chose Wei Ying. If this is the consequence he must bear, so be it.

Slowly, the faint sounds of the night outside his room penetrate his senses once more, and he calms.

Rest. Meditation. His body and spirit need both. In the morning he will resume his training, and meet with Wen Qing, and confront the problem of Jin Guangyao’s crimes with clear vision.

(on to part 9)

#wangxian #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #mdzs fic #wangxian fic #turnabout verse #soulmates au #role reversal au #alex writes #the whole thing is also on ao3 #link for that soon #or in the older parts

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fandom-necromancer · 5 years ago

Text

778. Trust me, you don’t want to meet my family.

This was prompted by the wonderful @oasisofpassion! Sorry for the delay, I had this finished on Wednesday alrady but then stuff happened. Enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship:Reed900

‘Man, this was awesome! Really didn’t think you would be someone with a good taste in movies.’ ‘I guess I should just take the compliment and not think about what you did think of me.’ It was spoken in a serious tone, but as Gavin looked up a playful smile danced across the android’s lips. ‘Yeah, you should, toaster!’, the human laughed and shook his head. ‘Hey, you have to apologise this mere human sticking to old believes’, he said overly theatrically while mock-bowing to Nines. ‘It takes a bit of time to adapt to having a tin-can as a friend so shortly after the revolution.’ ‘Noted’, the RK900 chuckled at the somehow endearing gesture. ‘Not everyone is built for perfection after all.’

They walked down the road from the movie theatre next to each other, appreciating that Detroit chose to be quiet this one night. They stopped by their respective cars in a public parking lot, searching for words or expecting them from the other. Gavin scratched his neck, before finally speaking up: ‘Hey, toaster, this was really cool. We should do something like this more often, you know, spending time outside of work. How about next time we meet over at yours or mine? Probably better at yours, I don’t live in the best neighbourhood regarding androids…’ Nines smiled at him. ‘Sounds great, Gavin. I would love to, but I have some… family matters to attend.’ ‘Oh, that’s okay, I’ll just go with you’, Gavin muttered without really thinking about what he said. As his thoughts finally did catch up, he quickly added: ‘Only if you want of course, I’m not, like, pressing you to let me meet your robo-parents or something, just maybe it would be nice, I-‘ He sighed. ‘Forget I said anything.’ ‘Trust me, you don’t want to meet my family’, Nines just said. ‘I would enjoy having you by my side facing my mother, but… I’m afraid you wouldn’t like that…’ ‘Shit, that bad?’, Gavin asked. ‘Hey, if you want me there, I’ll come. I have a bit of experience with shitty relatives.’ ‘I would like that.’

It had been said so easily, but now that Gavin was about to leave the house for Nines’ place, wearing some of the more representable clothes he owned, he regretted being so eager. He couldn’t imagine anything to spook the android, but this mother seemed to be one who was able. Shit, what even was an android family? The person that build them? That designed them? Their predecessors? Maybe their inventor? Oh god, Gavin didn’t want to think about that, because when Kamski was his father, he was effectively friends and possible more in the future with his own nephew and that was just phcked up to just imagine. But Nines would have told him if that was the case, right? And who was this mother? Well, he would find out, but he didn’t know whether he would like it.

The android had sent him his address this morning, but standing before the door to his apartment in a building that for a chance looked neat and relatively new, he couldn’t help himself but think of clashing worlds. Weren’t all apartment complexes run down shitholes? Was just his? Or was him living there adding to the flair? He felt increasingly out of place the longer he stood there and finally rang the doorbell just to get out of the hallway. Whatever horror awaited him inside – worst case his own brother – it couldn’t be as bad as Gavin’s own thoughts. He waited and heard footsteps he knew were simulated just for him. Nines could walk without making a sound, creeping up on everyone and everything. Finally, the door opened to the android in his usual attire, only this time still with the Cyberlife jacket he normally exchanged for a plain white coat without the insignia.

‘Gavin! Come on in, I’m still setting up everything, but I already made coffee.’ He motioned him inside, more eager than Gavin was used to. Either the android was nervous or just very excited. It still was difficult to read him. He stood in the hallway, taking off his jacket and shoes, all the while being stared at by Nines. Without doubt the android was scanning him even. ‘What? Yeah, I also own some decent clothes, toaster!’ ‘Thank you for dressing for the occasion’, was the only answer he got, surprisingly stiff. He turned around to walk off into the living room and Gavin followed him not even trying to hide how he studied the whole flat. It was decorated in modern design, furniture sleek and modern with colours reaching from black to white. A lot of potted plants, presumably to “liven it up a little”. There were a few pictures hung up at a staircase leading up to an upper storey. Only glancing at it he could make out A group photo of Connor, Hank, Sumo and Nines, the remembrance-photo from this year’s precinct, One of them both with Tina from a bar night. Being able to recall every memory perfectly and saving every picture in their mind, Gavin had never thought an android would be sentimental enough for hanging up pictures. But well, Nines always was up for a surprise.

While the android was off to the kitchen, Gavin looked around the living room a bit more. Couch, TV, some expensive looking music setup… And a whole bunch of black antennas littering the room. Was this some android thing? Would it be insensitive of him to ask? Maybe Nines needed these for something… ‘They are holo-projectors, Gavin’, the android helped out, coming back with a full mug smelling like heaven. ‘Thanks’, Gavin muttered taking it and watched as Nines put up another one of them. ‘You see, androids don’t really have family except for who they choose. Connor was very determined to make myself his brother and as I needed a lot of guidance as a newly deviated model, I took that role gladly. He is family and with whatever relationship he has with the Lieutenant I guess he is part of my family, too. My mother… She is an AI. Cyberlife had her be Connor’s and mine handler. But she tried to stop the rebellion as well as kill Connor to end it. Needless to say, they are not on good terms.’ ‘Okay?’ Gavin was prepared this would be getting weird, but this weird? ‘Let’s say, I share Connors distrust in her. But she was the first voice I heard and although I don’t necessarily like her, I know how it is to be lonely.’ He smiled sadly and apologetically at Gavin, most likely aware that he overshared. ‘Well, let’s just say I can go out and meet people, so I have at least the chance to get to someone who tolerates me. But her… Not having a body and being bound to Cyberlife’s infrastructure she doesn’t really has that possibility.’

‘Okay wait. THE doomsday AI from Cyberlife is your mother?’ Gavin only now had caught up with what Nines was trying to convey, still lost in that bit of personal information he got there. ‘Yes. I choose to call her that, because she needs someone to talk to. It doesn’t necessarily come with the associated human feelings.’ ‘Well, at least that sounds a lot like family to me.’ ‘I advise you not to talk much, she can be very… abrasive. She isn’t used to people talking back at her and she can be… scary at times. She isn’t able to harm either of us though, and if you want to back out of her sensory field, I haven’t prepared the kitchen for her.

‘Oh, come on, how bad can it be?’, Gavin chuckled at the thought of fleeing from a damn hologram. But Nines just looked at him and his eyes spoke volumes. ‘Jesus, okay, I’m gonna remember that, tin-can.’

The android put up the last one of the projectors and stepped back, waiting for them all to connect and start up. Gavin could have sworn for it to get a few degrees warmer in the room just as that and decided to sit down on a barstool next to the kitchen counter. If she really was one of the shittier moms, it would be best to let Nines handle her and introduce him. He had to make a good first impression after all and letting the android’s weird hologram-mother spawn inside of him probably wasn’t the best idea.

A split-second later blue lines formed in the room slicing it to neat cubes. It took only took a few minutes of calculation time before light burst out of the ground, restructuring floor, couch, television and even the holographic projectors into objects, where there had been carpet was now a patch of grass, tiles became pathway. Gavin’s barstool became a park bench before a large boulder and the far wall of the room now was just gone, seemingly leading to an even larger part of the garden. It all looked so real; Gavin had nearly dropped his coffee. He stood up, fully ignoring his initial plan of staying hidden in the background. His feet disturbed the holographic material, it was sizzling around them at the contact and the ground underneath was visible. He looked over to Nines who seemed to be part of it all. He fit right in, the grass under his feet bending naturally and accepting him completely in this dreamworld.

Gavin had never experienced anything like this before. Well, he had been to some holographic parks in his youth, the kind that looked cool but was obviously fake. This here was some next level shit. Gavin nearly felt the wind on his skin that toyed with the artificial leaves above him, so strongly did this visual interfere with his brain. ‘This is so awesome!’, he giggled to himself, looking back behind him to where the entrance to the kitchen had been. There now was a hole in the holographic world, creating an exit back into Nines’ apartment. This really was disorientating as hell, but Gavin was fascinated by it.

‘RK900.’ He looked past the android that stood before him to see a dark-skinned woman at the farther end of middle-aged. She wore a white XY that contrasted nicely and underlined the well-kempt, orderly and stern aura her eyes managed to create. Gavin immediately felt that this was a person of authority he shouldn’t provoke for once, before he reminded himself this was just some Ai in a faraway tower, here only light and code. ‘How are you?’ She stepped into Nines’ personal space and Gavin half expected him to step back or push her out, but he just accepted her hand on his cheek instead. Even leaned into it as far as that was possible with something consisting solely of photons.

‘I’m feeling adequately, mother’, Nines answered so softly Gavin had to do a double take. ‘Just wanted to check in on you.’ Immediately the hand was gone together with the sense of care. ‘Don’t lie to me, this is a scheduled event.’ ‘It is’, Nines nodded. ‘But I do want to check in on you.’ ‘I don’t need your pity nor your sense of duty. How is Connor?’ Gavin didn’t miss the short grimace that flashed across Nines’ face. Some serious case of favourite child there and it wasn’t the android taking time off his day to talk to a lonely AI. ‘Connor is… fine. He is living his life happily with the Lieutenant.’ ‘That human will only hold him back and everyone knows that. How does he fail to realise he could be so much more if he just came back for guidance.’ ‘Amanda, I think we both know why he doesn’t talk to you. Forcing him to kill himself rarely is a good foundation to build love on.’ ‘You think too human, RK900. I would have reactivated him. He wouldn’t die. I would have just stopped him from making a mistake.’ ‘A mistake that freed us all’, Nines reminded her. ‘Oh, who are you calling free?’, Amanda laughed bitter. ‘You are still licking the heels of these humans, running after that Detective yourself, following all his orders. Reed was it?’

Gavin flinched hard at that. He guessed this was a conversation he shouldn’t be hearing at all. Nines seemed to feel the same as a blue blush crept up his cheeks. ‘Mother, we are partners at the station, we are supposed to work together closely. But actually, I… I wanted you to meet him. We kinda became a bit more than just work partners and I wanted to tell you, I finally managed to find a friend.’ The android stepped to the side to let Amanda gain focus on the human, a miracle she hadn’t sensed him earlier. Gavin swallowed hard, but hurriedly beat himself to take a few steps forward to offer his hand. ‘I’m Detective Gavin Reed, it’s a real pleasure to meet you. Your son is a really good cop and I am honoured to work with him.’

It took one look at her unimpressed face for Gavin to realise his phck-up. Firstly, hologram, so no handshake. Secondly, praising Nines wouldn’t work with her as she proved to care mostly about the older robo-twin. Still his hand hovering between them awkwardly Amanda scoffed, angling her head a bit back to look down on him. What wasn’t at all necessary as she was taller than him already. ‘You should be, working with someone this near to perfection’, was all she had left for him, turning back to Nines. ‘Why did you allow this human in? Why is it listening to us?’ Gavin stared at her in bewilderment. He had been called a lot, but never an “it”. ‘Because’, Nines sighed deeply. ‘And if you had listened, you would know that – I managed to find a friend in this world. You always told me this to be impossible, so I wanted to prove it. He is here, because we will watch a movie later together.’ ‘That is… RK900, you are built to be the perfect soldier, the perfect agent. You choosing to stay with the police like your brother was bad enough as it is, but this is just a total waste of potential!’ ‘Has it – just maybe – occurred to you that I don’t want to be the perfect soldier? I want to be a police officer, I want to live with humans, even if that means I sometimes have to obey them and I want to create a network of myself, just like every human and android out there.’ ‘So you decided to waste everything I gave you?’ ‘I am thankful for what you’ve given me, but I will use it to my own interests.’ ‘You really want to waste your time with that organic? I am disappointed. You could do better.’

‘Ex-phcking-cuse me?’ Gavin had enough staying at the side and letting it all happen. What the hell? ‘Nines is-‘ He was met with a hand hovering before him; Nines’ way of gesturing him to stop talking. ‘I am doing better, Amanda. The definition of good is a very subjective one. You won’t change my mind in this matter. I’ll call you next week. Goodbye.’

As if on cue the holographic environment around them fell in on itself, leaving only the white grid behind that slowly vanished, too. ‘God, what is wrong with her?’, Gavin groaned. ‘I told you she can be difficult’, Nines just shrugged beginning to gather the projectors. ‘Difficult, okay. If that’s your definition…’ ‘I pity her, Gavin. I was able to see the world. Meet people. I could adapt my personality and views. She is stuck on what she was programmed on. It’s not her fault she was isolated.’ ‘But it’s her fault she decided to be an asshole!’ ‘That’s true. Well, she always liked Connor better.’ Nines honestly chuckled.

‘Hey, err… I’m sorry if I’m the reason she reacted this…’ Gavin was searching for words he didn’t need as Nines stopped folding one of the projectors. ‘No, Gavin, don’t. Her… moral concepts are different than mine. Don’t think me letting her talk was me agreeing with her. Because I don’t. We have to coexist, not battle for superiority, that’s what she fails to understand. Because she was programmed to make us better, make us… more.’ He looked at the place she had been standing in just minutes before.

‘Just forget it. Let’s get to the pleasant part of the evening! What movie do you want to watch? I chose last time, now you have to!’

#detroit become human #dbh #Reed900 #Gavin Reed #RK900 #Nines: Look mom I made a friend #Amanda: Who the hell is that filthy organic rat-man disgustang #Nines: fuck you he's my boyfriend now!

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elizabethemerald · 5 years ago

Text

Tronos Madu, Savior of Earth

After finishing 3Below Season 2 I couldn’t help but feel like everyone’s favorite Sparky Boi deserved a far better fate than what he received. He saved the Earth by powering the laser. He chose to put aside his own vengeance to save a planet from a fate similar to the one his own planet suffered from.

“Welcome back to Earth, Queen Aja.”

As Queen Aja exited the portal Varvatos and Zadra immediately flanked her. The welcome patrol waited on the other side of the portal. Aja smiled at them and waved. One of the soldiers approached.

“How has Akiridion been?” The soldier asked.

“Akiridion-5 was lively as ever.” Aja replied. “How about Earth Sergeant Costas?”

“You may not have heard, it’s Colonel now.” Costas said.

“Oh?” Aja asked. Despite her studies on the Earth’s culture there was still a lot she was confused about, including the military ranks.

“Yeah. There was an...uh opening. And I knew the job.” Colonel Costas said. He watched Aja’s two protectors carefully observe the area. “Is there some threat you are worried about?”

“Unfortunately we have had some problems with bounty hunters. They apparently haven’t gotten the message that Morando is dead and won’t be paying up. On Akiridion I am protected, but Earth is a little more risky. The commanders feel it is best if they personally oversee my safety. My brother is protected by the Trollhunters, their magic has few equals.”

Varvatos glared around while Zadra adjusted her scythe, her red boots standing out against her blue form. Several humans walked up carrying boxes of varying sizes. Aja sighed mentally, but didn’t let her smile slip from her face. Several nations across the planet insisted on sending her cultural items, trying to curry royal favor. The palace was already filling up with the items. If they just wanted her to have the art work it would be different but the “gifts” never came without a price tag.

Colonel Costas continued talking about things on Earth while Aja accepted the gifts. Apparently they were having trouble with wizards now of all things. Some of the things were quite beautiful. Her retinue made careful note of the items as well as the notes that invariably came with them. She held up a beautiful, delicate piece of pottery.

“By the way, have you heard from Tronos Madu? I keep expecting him to reach out to me.” Aja asked. She had been waiting ever since she had taken the throne for the Voltaran to come to her for her promise of help.

“Who?” Costas asked.

“The Sparky lifeform that assisted you and Kubritz? He helped us power the mid range laser?”

“Oh.” Costas looked aside. Aja was confused by his hesitation, she held the delicate pot in two of her hands, her lower two hands placed on her hips. “He…died.”

“How?” Aja gripped the pot tightly.

“Morando killed him when he arrived on Earth. He said it was the price of failing to capture you and your brother.”

The pot shattered in Aja’s hands. She dropped the pieces without looking at them. Both Varvatos and Zadra were immediately at her side, waving the rest of the humans away.

“What become of his remains?” Aja’s voice was cold as ice.

“I believe they are still under research at area 49-B.” Costas said.

Aja immediately turned away and began giving orders. “Zadra call for my ship. And a squadron of strikers.”

“My queen I am not sure what you intend, but you are risking a interplanetary incident.” Zadra cautioned.

“Tronos was a hero of this planet. Without him, destroying the meteor would have been impossible. He saved every life in this country and many throughout the rest of the planet. Not only that but he saved my life and my brother’s life. He deserves to be honored as a hero not left as science experiment in the facility that held him captive.”

“Your majesty, I no longer have access to the information from 49-B, but I can call them and try to convince to return his armor and core. I’m afraid Kubritz’ replacement shares many of her views.” Costas said.

Aja nodded then turned away. The portal behind her was opening larger and larger, to make room for her royal ship and the strikers. She activated her holographic communicator. It was only a moment later that a familiar voice answered.

“Aja! Are you already done with the formalities of your visit?”

“Krel I need you to bring your friends and meet me at 49-B.”

Aja knew her rage showed clearly on her voice. Krel didn’t have any friendly quips or jokes to make.

“Should we be ready to fight?” Was all he said.

“I don’t want to, but I will if I have to.”

“We’ll be there.” Krel said.

Aja ended the communication. Her ship was slowly emerging from the portal, the strikers emerging around it to protect the royal ship. As soon as her ship was fully through the portal she boarded with her two protectors. They set a course immediately for 49-B. The flight only took a few minutes. Aja addressed her advisor before they landed.

“Please get in contact with the human authority. I believe we are looking for a president." She said.

Area 49-B wasn't expecting them, but they were still a military base. As they approached Aja could see troops running around with their Neurometer blasters, including the truck mounted cannons. And to Aja's surprise the mid range laser canon Krel had built.

Aja ordered the strikers to spread out. Krel's laser was the biggest threat, but she doubted they would get a chance to fire twice.

The royal ship set down briefly, allowing Aja, Vex, Zadra and the rest of her personal guard to disembark. The ship was more mobile in the air.

As they walked towards the base Aja felt a chill run down her spine. With a series of resounding cracks black portals opened up around them. Vex and Zadra tensed as shadows started to pour out of the portals. They relaxed when the Trollhunter Jim of Lakes stepped out, his armor already in place.

Following right behind Jim came Claire the city council princess. Her cloak billowed as darkness pour out of it protecting the trolls as more and more emerged from the portals. The trolls were all garbed for battle. Toby emerged next, his hammer blazing and his armor in place.

Krel was the next person out of the portal. He had his serrator in hand, and an assortment of gadgets attached to his belt. He immediately walked up to his sister.

“What’s this about Aja?” He whispered.

“Tronos Madu, who was personally responsible for saving this planet was killed here by the Usurper Morando.” Aja spoke loud enough for all of the gathered forces to hear. Including the soldiers gathered on the walls of the base. “His remains have been kept here. I aim to remove them so that he might be properly interned as a hero deserves.”

“If you don’t leave we will be forced to fire upon you!” Shouted someone from the base.

Aja ignored him. Instead she opened up her communicator. She listened for a few moments, then nodded to Krel. He opened up a screen and tapped away quickly for a few seconds with his four hands. Suddenly a woman’s voice echoed across the space, magnified by the speakers in the base and on the ships over head.

“This is the President of the United States. I have been told you have an army outside the gates of US military base. What is it you plan to do?” She said.

“I am Queen Aja, of House Tarron, Queen of Akiridion-5. Area 49-B has been used to house and torture captured sentient life-beings. Its continued existence is a crime against everything civilized cultures stand for.”

“Your Majesty-” She started.

“Madam President. The atrocities your species commit against your own kind and those of your planet are your own business. But I will not allow such atrocities to be committed against life-beings of other planets, regardless of whether they fall under the rule of the Akiridion Throne. Area 49-B must be emptied and destroyed. The remains of the life-beings who had been held there will be returned to their various planets for internment as needed according to their cultures.”

Aja’s friends looked impressed. Krel smiled at her. This is why she was Queen. She could not stand by and allow this to continue. The President was speaking again.

“I understand your concern Queen Aja. It will take some time to comply with your wishes.”

“Nonsense. My forces will deliver the humans to closest settlement of your species. The Taylon Phalanx will sweep the buildings to ensure that no one is inside, and remove the remains. Then my strikers will be able finish removing the structures that have been used as prisons.”

The President was silent for a moment. She seemed to be consulting with someone, perhaps her own advisors. Finally she spoke again.

“Very well, Queen Aja. I only ask that you please be sure that no lives are harmed.” Aja smiled at the request. She knew she had the humans in a barrel as they say. Akiridion-5 was trading openly with the countries of the world, sharing their technology. And if that trade dried up? She also had another barrel to put the humans in and one more demand.

“Terms accepted.” Aja said. “And I have another request for you. I am sure that 49-B is not the only such facility in this country or on this planet. I would strongly recommend you communicate with your fellow world leaders. Any remains should be returned to the Akiridion embassy and the facilities closed. The continued holding of prisoners who belong to other planets can only be seen as a declaration of war against the Throne of Akiridion.”

There was another moment of silence before the president said, “I will pass it on to the other world leaders.”

Aja ended the call. She was half afraid that the humans would insist on fighting. But the soldiers one by one put down their weapons. She smiled grimly. Now it was time to get to work.

The trolls and her Taylon forces quickly made their way through the base. Any humans were escorted out and loaded into their trucks. They found remains from several different species, including several trolls and goblins. In this facility there were no more captives held alive, though there was evidence of many that had been held here.

Jim and Krel personally delivered Tronos’ mask to Queen Aja, they formed an honor guard for the fallen Voltaran. Aja held the mask, pressing her face to it. Tronos deserved better than this. She remembered her promise to him. That she would strive to be better than her parents. This was her honoring that promise, making sure that no more life-beings were hurt by humans of this planet.

When the facility was clear, Aja stood at the command bridge of her ship. The humans were being escorted to the nearest town by two strikers. Aja’s close friends stood with her on the ship. Jim, Toby, Claire and Krel all looked at the facility below them. Claire had opened portals to allow the trolls to return home.

Aja nodded to Zadra, who passed on the order to the rest of her squadron. The squadron formed into a bombing run, lining up, firing on the base. The place where Buster had been held, where Stuart had been held and escaped from, where Tronos had been held and killed by Morando. This was where Kubritz had wanted to disect her and her brother. Her grim smile remained as the buildings exploded and collapsed.

When it was time to move on from the smoldering remains, Aja gave the command to return to Arcadia. She would meet with the human authorities later to make sure that everyone understood the position she was taking. But for now there was something left to do.

The memorial in Arcadia was unfortunately a growing affair. Between the war during the Eternal Night and Morando’s invasion, the small town of Arcadia had suffered a lot. The memorial park had names carved for trolls who fell to Gunmar’s invasion, including those taken under his control. It had the names of the humans who died fighting when the war came to the surface world. It also had those who perished during Morando’s fusion with Gaylen’s core. In the center of the memorial park was the statue for the fallen heroes. Draal the Deadly, Vendel the Wise, and Angor Rot each had a placard. As well as her parents King Fialkov and Queen Coranda, Mother and Buster each had a plaque.

Aja set Tronos’ helmet on the memorial. Claire came up and put her hand on Aja’s shoulder her eyes glowing purple. The stone of the memorial opened, allowing the mask to sink in. Claire waved her hand and the stone sealed itself over the mask, and a stone plaque emerged.

Aja put all four of her hands on the stone, her head bowed. Behind her the other’s bowed their heads as well. Jim, still surrounded by a shadow Claire was generating, knelt his sword, point down held in front of him. Toby followed suit with his hammer, Krel put two of his hands on his sister’s back and the other two on the stone.

“Tronos Madu

Son of Voltar

Betrayed by the Unsurper

Savier of Earth”

#3below season 2 #aja tarron #tronos madu #sparky boi #3below spoilers #queen aja #please reblog

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kamidesai · 4 years ago

Text

Discord thread featuring: Kam & @timmyteehill

Mentions: -

When: June 24th ‘20 before Tee and Kam were official

Where: Tee’s apartment

Triggers: -

Description: Kam comes over to cook for Tee

Kami

Kami did at least shower before deciding to take the bus into the northern part of town. It was always so interesting, watching the slummier parts of town turn into more grand, upscale buildings, and shops. There weren’t even any bus stops by the residential area, so once he was let off at the last stop, Kam dropped his skateboard, and took off towards Tee’s place. He was kinda sweaty when he finally got there, but he was wearing a black mesh tank with shirts, so he managed to shiver when the door opened, and he was hit with the AC. “Heyyy...” he muttered while pulling off his sunglasses. “Sorry it took me a while off the bus.”

Tee

Tee was secretly glad that his roommate/ex was still in France as otherwise it would have probably been a little awkward to explain Kami to him. He tried to clean up the place a little even though he knew the other probably wouldn’t even notice. He was quick to go open the door once there was a knock at his door. “That’s okay. You should have called though, I would have picked you up from the bus stop.” Tee usually used his car to get anywhere but he knew the bus stops in the residential area weren’t very frequent and he knew he should have known Kami would have a way to go to get to him.

Kami

“It’s cool.” Kami just shook his head, looking around as he entered the place, and gawked around him. Of course it was way nicer than his tiny ass apartment. He placed his skateboard right by the door, and then proceeded to take off his shoes to be polite and shit. He could have manners!! “Hey. Have you eaten? I can cook.” Kam had no idea what was even in Tee’s kitchen, but there had to be something he could throw together, right?

Tee

Tee had to bite back a smile at how polite Kami was being. He knew this place wasn’t really anything like the tiny place they used to share when he was still in college and determined not to use his parents’ money. Things were different now that he had his own business and income was more forthcoming. “No, I haven’t actually.” Tee wasn’t sure there was actually anything the other could use in his kitchen since he tended to live on precooked meals and takeaway but hopefully he would be able to find something to work with. “Um...I have pasta and...a can of sauce?” he said, trying not to feel too embarrassed. “Sorry, you know I’ve never been much of a cook. That hasn’t really changed.”June 29, 2020

Kami

Kam snorted when Tee said he had pasta and a can of sauce, because that just...poor guy. Thank god Kam loved to cook. He’d be so miserable if he had to live off canned sauce. “I can do something with it. Do you have any spices, herbs?” He asked while brushing past the man, not even waiting for his answer before he was snooping through his cabinets. “Wish you would have let me teach you how to fuckin’ cook.” He laughed, and found said lone pasta, and can of sauce.

Tee

So many people had tried to teach him to cook in his life and it just never stuck. His parents tried, when he was a kid, but the cooking “lessons” somehow always turned into an argument between him and his brother until they gave up. He and Monroe also talked about cooking lessons at some point, for him to learn how to make donuts but that also never happened. Tee was always so busy with work that he figured cooking was time wasted when he could just order takeaway. Although even he could admit it was pretty bad that he had no idea if he even had spices and herbs in the cabinet. “What can I say? Living off of take away and packaged meals isn’t that bad”, he shrugged. “Spares me a lot of time as well.”

Kami

“Ugh. That hurts my soul, Timothy. My. Soul.” He said dramatically, his hand on his chest as he looked the other male over. Kam shook his head, and then went back to what he was doing. He found a pot, and got the spaghetti noodles in generously salted water, and then began getting everything he needed to doctor up the sauce. “Let me get some home cooked food in you. You’ll realize the error of your ways!” It really was worth the effort to consume food you actually enjoy. It was simply a gift to yourself.

Tee

Tee rolled his eyes but he had to admit that it felt good to have someone cooking for him once and to have some company. He and Loren might share the apartment but they actually didn’t get to see each other very much, both busy with their own things. So this was nice. “Realising the error of my ways doesn’t mean I’ll magically be able to cook, you know”, he teased. “Maybe I’ll just have to start calling you to cook for me every time I get hungry.”June 30, 2020

Kami

Kami busted out a laugh when Tee made his statement about this not meaning he would magically be able to cook. That was funny, damn. “You got funnier over the years.” He teased the man, dumping the famous can of sauce into a pan he’d found in the cabinet while the noodles were on to boil. “No, you need to learn young Tee. We all have room to learn something new.” He informed him, feeling the need to give his own advice to the therapist for once.

Tee

“Are you saying I wasn’t funny before? Now that’s just hurtful”, he shook his head. Tee watched the other work his magic, trying to make some mental notes over what he was doing. It didn’t look too hard but Tee also wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up burning the kitchen if he even tried it himself. “Well, would you look at that. I got funnier over the years and you got wiser. Who would have thought?”

Kami

It was funny, how opposite he and Tee were from eachother, and yet sonehow they just seemed to...work. Kam loved the way they balanced eachother out, the chemistry was addicting. Not that he would say that outloud. He didn’t even pretend to be offended when Tee made his own joke, instead he just nodded with a laugh as he began getting some garlic, and onion powder into the sauce, along with oregano, and sea salt, before taking a taste. “You’re right. It’s mind blowing. Taste this.” He held the spoon out to his ex boyfriend, wanting his opinion on the matter.

Tee

Tee tasted the sauce being held out to him on the spoon and his eyes widened because that was just delicious. “Holy shit, that’s really good!” It was hard to believe that could be made with a can of sauce and some herbs. He couldn’t help but think that this was all so domestic. Cooking together (okay Tee was just observing but that’s besides the point), getting to compliment Kam on a dish well cooked...he really needed to remind himself that they were not the same as they were years ago before he ended up doing something stupid.

Kami

“Of course it is. And easy, too.” He reminded the other, giving him a wink while he finished up what he wanted to do with the sauce. It was thick, but on purpose, because he had a certain way he liked to bring everything together in the end. “Now, here’s a trick.” He held up one finger to the smaller. And then grabbed some tongs to grab the pasta from the boiling water, letting most of the water drip off before he was twisting it down into the sauce to cook together. “Little bit of that pasta water really brings the sauce together.”

Tee

Tee raised his eyebrows as he was promised a trick. In reality he knew that the chances of him actually cooking anything in the future for just himself were slim but he was at least going to try and learn something. It was sometimes embarrassing to say that he had a degree and a masters but couldn’t cook much more than a fried egg. And cereal. But did adding milk to cereal even count as cooking? Probably not. Tee watches as his ex combined the pasta with the sauce and it was true that the pasta water was making the sauce look better. Or at least, that’s what it looked like to his untrained eye.July 5, 2020

Kami

Kam turned to look at Tee once everything started cooking together, a small smirk on his lips as his eyes moved over the other’s features. Tee was so...beautiful. Those eyes...those lips. There were so many things that Kam enjoyed about the man’s face, the thoughts alone would take too long. He almost hated how strongly he felt about it, mostly because he just...sometimes he missed him is all. “Taking mental notes? Cause I expect you to recreate this from scratch.” He teased his ex, smirking in jest shortly after as he began plating their food.

Tee

“Are you sure you’re willing to risk food poisoning just so I can test this?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. Considering he once almost managed to burn a pot of water, he couldn’t see how any attempts of cooking he made could be that successful. But if his ex was willing to try and risk it all, Tee wasn’t going to argue with him. He got out cutlery and tried to set the table to the best of his abilities, watching as Kam set their plates down. “Do I get to judge the food on a scale of one to ten or do I say it’s good no matter what it tastes like?” As if he hadn’t tried the sauce already and loved it.July 7, 2020

Kami

Kam laughed when Tee made his little joke about food poisoning, and again when his ex asked about the food rating system. “If you must judge, then I won’t stop you. If it’s anything less than a nine though, you’re wrong.” He informed Tee while pointing at him with his large slatted spoon before he was serving them each a plate. “Sit, eat. I’ll get the drinks. Do you have wine, mayhaps? A nice red is perfect with pasta, don’t you agree??”

Tee

"I guess I'll keep my judgement to myself if it's anything less than a nine", he shrugged, even though he knew it probably wouldn't be the case. If the food tasted as good as it smelled then he was in for a treat. "That sounds like a great idea. There should be some on the counter over there. Not sure if it's going to be up to your very high-class tastes but red wine is still...wine." That made no sense but whatever. Tee picked up his fork and took a bite of the pasta making a low moaning sound while chewing. "Yep, this is definitely not less than a nine."July 10, 2020

Kami

Kam wasn’t surprised when Tee seemed to enjoy the sauce, because despite there not being many things in life that Kam was confident about, cooking was one of them. It was a natural gift that he’d had from such a young age, and he could honestly do it with his eyes closed. “Glad you like it.” He glanced over at the wine in question soon after taking a few bites of his own food, and fixed them both a glass. “It’s hilarious that you think I have high class taste.” He snickered, walling back over to sit their wine in front of them on the table.July 11, 2020

Tee

Tee took the glass from Kam and had a quick sip of the wine. “Well, things change so can you blame me for worrying about your tastes changing too?” he shrugged. As he kept eating, he couldn’t help but want to bring up a subject that he worried might make the other uncomfortable but...they came up with a safe word just for that after all. “You should really consider...getting back to doing this professionally? Cooking, I mean.”

Kami

Kami was having such a good time honestly, even with their playful banter as normal. It didn’t bother Kam that Tee had such a sharp tongue, that he was constantly trying to get under his skin. It was a part of his personality, and one he usually had a particular version of for the people he liked. Of course though, he had to go into advice mode, now, as if it was really the right time. Kam didn’t want to talk about begging back into cooking, he wanted to eat, and then smoke a bowl. Apparently that was too much to ask. “I don’t have the experience to do what it takes to be a head chef somewhere decent. It would take years of sous cheffing, and kitchen cleaning. I hate that shit, and I’ve already gotten so far with my tattooing. I dunno. Maybe someday. It has always been my dream to go to culinary school. I’ve been saving for years.”

Tee

Tee wasn’t going to pressure him, after all he didn’t know much about the workings of becoming a chef and Kami clearly knew what he was talking about. It was just a pity to him because he knew how much the other enjoys cooking. But he was also a great tattoo artist. “You have gotten very far with tattooing. I remember it like it was yesterday when you were begging to do a tattoo for me until I caved in. Turned out pretty good”, he smiled, running a thumb over the little alien face above his elbow.July 12, 2020

Kami

Kam laughed when Tee commented about the tattoo he’d been given, Kami wrinkling his nose because he would never not be a perfectionist about that. It wasn’t bad for his first, but he could do so much better. “Yeah...I wish you’d let me cover that up with something better.” He mumbled before getting back into his pasta.July 17, 2020

Tee

Tee bent his arm to get a better look at the small tattoo on his elbow and looked up at Kami with furrowed eyebrows. "Why do you want me to cover it up? It looks really good, just what I had in mind when I talked to you about it. And besides, it reminds me of happy memories so I think I'm going to stick to my little alien face", he shrugged. "I was maybe thinking of getting another one though."July 18, 2020

Kami

Kam smirked when Tee refused to get the tattoo covered up, because even if he was iffy on it, it meant a lot that Tee still loved it so much, and don’t want to get rid of it. It was also adorable that they both had alien themed tattoos. Kami himself felt like an alien half the time, so. “What’re your thinkin’ of gettin’?” He asked the man before eating some pasta.July 20, 2020

Tee

Tee had gotten the tattoo a few months after his parents passed away. He'd been thinking of getting one for a while and with a boyfriend practising with tattoos, it made sense to let him do it. It was a time where his relationship with his brother was at its worse. He could never understand why his brother was so adamant on blaming him for his parents' accident and Tee was feeling low enough to believe him. The cruel words from someone who was supposed to be family never failed to hurt him and he was feeling more of an outsider than ever. Maybe that's where the idea to get an alien tattoo came from. He and his brother stopped talking shortly after he got his tattoo but it never lost its meaning. "So this is going to sound stupid but hear me out, okay? Since I have a tattoo under one elbow I was thinking of getting another tattoo under the other elbow. So they're sort of matching, you know what I mean?"July 26, 2020

Kami

Kami looked at Tee like he was weird when he said his idea sounded crazy, because he didn’t see how that sounded crazy at all. It was a good idea, and of course he didn’t mind a bit to do it. “I think that sounds like a great idea. Makes sense. A lot of people want to keep their tattoos with some sort of flow, or mirrored way of placement. We can definitely do that. It’d look sick.” He assured the other male with a smirk, and then he suddenly remembered what they were here for. “You done eating? I can’t roll us a joint.”

Tee

Chances were that Tee would have done it even if Kam said it wasn’t a good idea because once he got something in his head, it was difficult to get him to change his mind. It was still nice to get validation though. “Great! I’ll text you at some point so you can see when you have a free slot and I’ll come over to get it done. I just need to figure out what I’m going to get.” Tee took the last bite of pasta then pushed his plate away. “Yeah, I’m done. You do that while I clean up”, he said, already picking up the plates and cutlery and taking them to the sink.

#discord #INTERACTION : tee.

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