#so I decided to try going more path of abundance instead and it worked way better

[chronosdawn]

Blade and Jade combo for the win

[mercillery]

KOBY SFW ALPHABET

WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + NOT PROOFREAD

NOTES: I want to do a Kuzan SFW alphabet next but I literally have no motivation to write. Anyway, this one is for the Koby lovers. I love you Koby lovers.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He's not one for public displays of affection, especially because he wants to keep you safe. To him, letting the world know you're together is basically like painting a target on your back for every pirate out there, you know? And he obviously doesn’t want that. But when he's away from the prying eyes of pirates, things are different. Unless he's at Marine Headquarters, you’re more than welcome to lock arms with him or hold his hand.

However, he does have his limits. Anything too overly affectionate might make him shy and a bit embarrassed—not because of you, but because of the setting. I mean, you're literally surrounded by his comrades, subordinates, and superiors. Imagine the looks you'd get. Just picture a stern-faced admiral trying to keep a straight face while you're smothering him with affection. Not exactly the time or place, right?

So while he's all for the occasional arm lock or a quick, reassuring touch, he prefers to keep the more intimate moments for when you're alone. He’ll give you a smile or a gentle squeeze of your hand in public, but the real tenderness is saved for when you both have a bit of privacy.

In private, he’s a lot more affectionate. He cuddles you more, hugs you more, and does much more.

When it comes to showing affection, Koby pulls out all the stops. He’s got it all: words of affirmation, acts of service, quality time, and physical touch. It’s like he read the book on love languages and decided to master each one just for you.

Koby absolutely loves hyping you up whenever you accomplish something, no matter how big or small. You aced a work presentation? He’s there with a proud smile and a heartfelt, “You’re amazing!” He secretly thinks you’re incredibly cool but keeps it to himself sometimes because he’s a bit nervous that you’ll think he’s just a big nerd.

Spoiler alert: He totally is, but in the best way possible.

Acts of service are his specialty. He’s the type to take care of the laundry, whip up your favorite meals, or help fix that annoying leaky faucet. These little gestures might seem small, but they’re his way of showing he cares. And when it comes to bigger tasks, he’s all in. Need help moving furniture or organizing a room? He’s got you covered. Honestly, he’d go to great lengths for you—there’s practically nothing he wouldn’t do.

And despite the demanding nature of his Marine duties, Koby always makes sure there’s quality time for the two of you. He feels guilty when he’s away for too long, engrossed in Marine missions, and compensates by writing you long, heartfelt letters. These letters are filled with sweet words about how much he misses you and hopes you’re doing well. And when he’s finally back, he makes up for lost time with an abundance of cuddles and hugs!

Physical touch is another big way Koby shows his love. Whether it’s a gentle squeeze of your hand to reassure you, a warm hug to comfort you, or simply holding your hand as you walk together, he’s all about those little touches that make you feel secure and loved.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Starting a friendship with Koby is literally the easiest thing in the world. This is the guy who’s best buddies with Luffy, who’s a pirate. If Koby can forge a bond with the Straw Hat Captain, then whether you’re a pirate, a Marine, a civilian, or even a squid or an ant, you’ve got a very good chance of striking up a friendship with him. The possibilities are as vast as the ocean itself.

Koby’s open-hearted nature makes it easy for friendships to blossom in countless ways. Maybe you’re a pirate who crossed paths with him during a mission, and instead of clashing, you found common ground. Perhaps you’re a fellow Marine bonding over shared duties and late-night shifts. Or you might be a civilian who stumbled into his life, needing help with something mundane like a lost pet. Koby’s the kind of guy who’d stop and lend a hand, no questions asked.

So however you envision it, the beginning of a friendship with Koby can take many forms. What I’m trying to say is that there isn’t really a specific type of way you can start a friendship with Koby; the numerous ways you can become friends with him are endless, so I’ll leave it up to you as to how you think the friendship starts.

As a best friend, Koby is the kind of person who instantly inspires you—his optimism and kindness are infectious. There’s not a hint of evilness in him—he’s genuinely good to the core. Having Koby as your best friend means having someone who’s always got your back, no matter what. He supports you in everything you do, from your smallest goals to your biggest dreams.

Whenever self-doubt creeps in, Koby’s right there to dispel it with his unwavering belief in you. His encouraging words and sincere compliments make you feel like you can conquer anything. And if you ever face fears or obstacles, Koby is there to help you overcome them, just like Luffy helped him conquer his fear of Alvida. His method might be different, but the result is the same: you emerge stronger and more confident.

Koby’s optimism is like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day. Even if you’re not naturally optimistic, his positive outlook on life rubs off on you. He’s always looking on the bright side, finding silver linings even in the toughest situations.

His support isn’t just emotional either. Koby’s the type of friend who’ll be there to help you move, lend an ear when you need to vent, or celebrate your victories—big and small. He’s reliable, loyal, and always ready with a kind word or a helping hand. You’ll find yourself inspired by his dedication and drive, striving to be better simply because he believes in you.

Honestly, having Koby as a best friend is a complete game-changer. He’s the kind of friend everyone needs in their life—a literal beacon of hope and positivity. So if you have Koby as your best friend, you best cherish him.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He absolutely loves cuddling! There's something incredibly comforting about being wrapped up in your arms or having his arms around you. When he's holding you close, it's like he's basking in the warmth and softness of fluffy clouds. It’s one of his favorite ways to unwind after a long day of Marine duties. He often jokes that your hugs are better than any bed or pillow, and honestly, he means it. So if you ever want to make his day, just pull him into a cuddle, and he’ll melt into you.

He’s more than happy to cuddle in whatever way you prefer. Whether you like spooning, lying on his chest, or simply being close, he’s always ready to accommodate. But if he had to choose, there’s a special place in his heart for those cuddling positions where you’re both just wrapped up in each other’s arms. The closer you are, the more at ease he feels. It’s like a tangible reminder that you’re right there with him, and it fills him with a deep sense of peace and contentment.

These close cuddles are his safe haven, a place where he can let go of the day's stresses and just be present with you. So while he’s always open to cuddling in any way that makes you happy, those times when you’re nestled in each other’s arms are the ones he holds dearest.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Honestly, yeah, he does want to settle down, but he's thinking more about doing that later in the future. Right now, he's focused on his Marine duties and personal growth, but the idea of settling down with someone special is definitely in his mind.

Now, when it comes to household skills, Koby's got some solid credentials. He’s a whiz at cleaning, thanks to his early days as a chore boy in the Marines. So rest assured, with Koby around, your place will always be spotless.

As for cooking, Koby's no gourmet chef, but he’s decent in the kitchen. He can whip up a variety of meals that are tasty and satisfying. His cooking might not win any awards, but it’s made with care and a touch of love. So, while there might not be much to say about his culinary skills, you can always count on him for a hearty, home-cooked meal. <3

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

If Koby ever had to break up with you, he would handle it with the utmost care and respect. He’s deeply considerate of your feelings and wants to ensure that the conversation is as peaceful and problem-free as possible. The last thing he wants is for you to be hurt or to have a sudden emotional breakdown. And if you do start having an emotional breakdown, you better believe he’s going to do his best to comfort you. 

During the breakup, Koby is very gentle and patient. He reassures you that it’s simply for the best, explaining his reasons in a way that shows he’s thought it through and that it’s not a decision he’s taken lightly. His primary goal is to avoid causing you any unnecessary pain and to make sure you understand that this isn't a reflection of your worth or his feelings towards you as a person.

After explaining his decision, he’ll ask if you’d like to stay in touch. He understands if you’d prefer some distance and is completely fine with that. But if you want to maintain a friendship, he’s open to it as well. Koby genuinely wants to be there for you if you need it, even after the romantic relationship has ended.

He makes it clear that just because you’re breaking up, it doesn’t mean he hates you or thinks any less of you. In fact, he’ll emphasize that he still cares deeply about you and respects you. So even though you might be going your separate ways, you’re always free to reach out to him. He’s got your back, no matter what, and he wants you to know that he’s still a friend you can rely on.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Very great dumb question! How does Koby feel about commitment? Well, Koby is a narcissistic man who does not care about you or your feelings!

Just kidding. He’s obviously not like that, which should already be clear.

Koby is very serious about commitment. He values a healthy, fulfilling, and loving relationship and works tirelessly to ensure that’s what you both have. He’s not just in it for the short term, casual flings, or any of that stuff—he's in it for the long haul.

Koby understands that commitment means being there through thick and thin, supporting you in your dreams and challenges, and building a life together based on trust and mutual respect. He strives to be the best partner he can be, always putting in the effort to make you feel valued and loved. He’s all about creating a strong, lasting bond with you and making sure your relationship is as amazing as it can be.

Honestly, despite how young Koby is—just 18—he definitely has thoughts about getting married someday. However, he envisions this happening later on in the future, perhaps around his late 20s or so.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Both physically and emotionally, Koby is the most gentle man you could ever have. He’s never rough with you in any way. His touch is always tender, whether he’s holding your hand, giving you a hug, or simply being close. Emotionally, he’s just as gentle, always considering your feelings and ensuring that his words and actions never cause you harm.

It’s hard to say more because there’s really not much to add—gentleness is simply a part of who he is. It’s not just you who experience his kindness and care; Koby extends this gentleness to almost everything and everyone around him. His nature is to approach life with a soft, compassionate heart, making him a truly special person to be with.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He absolutely loves hugs. As I mentioned in the cuddles part, the closer you are, the more at ease he feels—and that goes for hugs as well! Hugs are one of his favorite ways to connect with you, offering both comfort and warmth.

Koby hugs you pretty often, especially in private, where he feels free to show his affection without any reservations. But that doesn’t mean he deprives you of hugs in public. In fact, he makes sure to give you a warm embrace, particularly when he’s about to leave for a dangerous mission. Those public hugs might be a bit more reserved, but they still carry all the love and reassurance he wants to give you.

His hugs are always soft and gentle, never firm, rough, or harsh in any way. When he wraps his arms around you, it feels like being enveloped in a cocoon of safety and affection. Each hug is a quiet promise of his care and devotion, a way for him to silently communicate how much you mean to him. Whether in the privacy of your home or in the hustle and bustle of the outside world, Koby’s hugs are a constant source of comfort and love. 🫂

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

This can go either way. Koby doesn’t say “I love you” immediately in the first few weeks of the relationship, but he doesn’t wait too long to say it either. It really depends on how things unfold between you two. Either you say it first, or he gathers the courage to do so first.

Koby tends to overthink this a lot. He’s torn between wanting to make sure the timing is just right and not wanting you to feel bad by waiting too long to hear those special words. He’s deeply considerate and wants to ensure that when he does say “I love you,” it feels genuine and heartfelt.

The anticipation makes him a bit nervous. He doesn’t want to rush things and make you uncomfortable, but he also wants you to know how much you mean to him. It’s a delicate balance for him, and he’s constantly thinking about the best way to express his feelings without overwhelming you. So while he waits for the appropriate moment, he’s a bundle of nerves, hoping that when he finally does say it, it’s perfect.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He surprisingly never gets jealous. Even if someone is outright hitting on you right in front of his very own eyes, he still won’t show any signs of jealousy. Koby trusts you deeply and believes in the strength of your relationship.

However, in those very rare moments when he does feel a twinge of jealousy, he keeps it to himself at first. He thinks it's better to avoid such feelings and not let them affect your relationship. He doesn't want to burden you with his insecurities.

If he feels his jealousy increasing and it becomes something he can’t just shake off, he’ll approach you about it very nicely. No arguments, no conflicts, no accusations—just a calm, respectful conversation. Koby values open communication and wants to make sure you both are on the same page. He’ll explain his feelings honestly, but always with the intent to understand and resolve any issues peacefully.

No matter how jealous he might feel, Koby remains his gentle, kind self. He talks to you with the same care and respect he always does, ensuring that any concerns are addressed in a way that strengthens your bond rather than causing unnecessary tension.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses are soft and gentle, just like the rest of his affections.

Koby’s favorite spots to kiss are your cheeks and your lips, keeping them sweet and innocent.

When it comes to being kissed, Koby is happy with any part of his face. Whether it’s a quick peck on the forehead, a soft kiss on the nose, or a lingering kiss on the lips!

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

There are multiple clips of Koby with children, and in all of them, he’s literally so sweet and angelic. He interacts with them with such kindness and patience that it’s impossible not to see how good he is with kids. Even with the more troublesome children, he remains calm and understanding.

There’s really not much more to say here because it’s pretty obvious: Koby is amazing with children.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Marine duties call at the crack of dawn, meaning Koby has to be up at the earliest of the earliest hours. But before he leaves, he always makes sure to give you a gentle peck on the cheek. Every morning, he’s torn between wanting to wake you up to let you know he’s leaving and not having the heart to disturb your beauty sleep.

This has become a part of his daily routine: he spaces out while looking at your peaceful, sleeping face, silently debating whether to wake you or not. Sometimes, you wake up while he’s in the middle of this internal struggle and find him just staring at you with a soft expression. Concerned, you ask him why he’s just standing there, and he blushes, clearly embarrassed. With a sheepish smile, he tells you he’s leaving and then leans down to give you a sweet kiss.

Those moments, though brief, are filled with tenderness and love. He then quietly slips out, hoping you’ll drift back to sleep, knowing how much he cares.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights with Koby are very peaceful and calm! He doesn’t go to sleep until he’s sure you’re comfortable and have everything you need. His priority is your comfort and well-being, and he takes it seriously, ensuring you’re settled in before he even thinks about closing his eyes.

Need a drink before heading to sleep? He’s already there at your side with the drink you wanted before you can even finish your sentence. You can’t sleep unless there’s some sort of noise in the background? Don’t worry, Koby’s already pulling up a playlist!

And here’s a bonus, random thing: if you have a nighttime skincare routine, Koby will definitely take part in it too—only if you want him to, of course. You don’t even have to beg him—he’s already eager to join you in your routine!

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Honestly, the moment you and Koby enter a relationship, he starts revealing things about himself—only if you ask, though. For him, being in a relationship means being open and honest, so he doesn’t see any reason to keep parts of himself hidden away.

So you could say he starts revealing everything all at once. He wants you to know the real him, from his dreams and fears to his quirks and habits. Koby believes that a strong relationship is built on transparency and trust, so he’s eager to share his world with you.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Not easily angered at all. He can’t even remember the last time he’s been angry.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers absolutely everything about you, even the smallest details. Sure, he might need a gentle reminder from time to time—but for the most part, he remembers everything. He wants to make sure you feel seen and valued, so he makes an effort to remember the things that matter to you.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

If you’re a marine like him, then Koby’s favorite moments in your relationship are the times when the two of you push yourselves to your limits, both physically and emotionally, and come out successful on a mission. These moments are significant for Koby because they highlight your strength, determination, and teamwork. Working together under pressure and overcoming challenges not only enhances your skills as marines but also strengthens your connection!

And if you’re just a civilian, then Koby’s favorite moments in the relationship are simply whenever he’s around you, enjoying the everyday, ordinary moments that make up your life together. Whether it’s sharing a quiet evening at home, going for a walk, or just talking about your day, Koby treasures these times because they allow him to be close to you and experience the simplicity and joy of your company.

He also finds great satisfaction in protecting you from anything or anyone that poses a threat. Knowing that he can use his skills and strength to keep you safe fills him with a sense of purpose. These moments of protection aren’t always dramatic; they can be as simple as walking you home at night or being there to support you during a difficult time. For Koby, just being able to care for you and ensure your safety is immensely fulfilling.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Koby is normally protective. He’s not overly protective, nor is he too lax—he strikes a balance in the middle. However, if you’re ever in an actual life-threatening situation, his protective instincts kick into high gear. In such moments, Koby becomes incredibly vigilant and determined to ensure your safety. He’s definitely panicking because he doesn’t want you to get hurt, but his determination to protect you far outweighs that panic.

Koby protects you by standing in harm’s way, making sure that if an enemy tries to hit you, they’ll have to go through him first. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if an enemy ever managed to harm you in any way, so he tries very hard—exceptionally hard—to prevent that from happening. He would literally take bullets for you.

If you’re ever the one protecting Koby, he’ll definitely be grateful for your bravery and strength. However, he’ll still insist that you let him protect you, no matter how capable you are. While he trusts you to defend yourself, he would much rather take the lead to ensure you aren’t hurt in any way.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He puts a good equal amount of effort into dates, anniversaries, gifts, and everyday tasks. You will never catch this man not putting in effort when it comes to your relationship. Whether it’s planning a special date night, remembering your anniversary, picking out the perfect gift, or simply helping with daily chores, Koby is always attentive and dedicated.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

The only bad habit I can think of is that his commitment to the Marines can sometimes overshadow his personal life.

That—and at times, he struggles to make quick decisions, especially when it involves something important to your relationship. His desire to make the right choice for both of you can lead to procrastination.

Other than that, he's the world's most perfect man.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Honestly, Koby has never been one to be overly concerned about his looks. He’s always been more focused on his duties and responsibilities. But ever since he entered a relationship with you, things have changed a bit. It’s not that you make him insecure or anything, but sometimes he finds himself wondering if you genuinely think he’s attractive or not, and he ponders a lot over that.

This newfound awareness of his appearance isn’t about vanity; it’s about wanting to be his best self for you. Koby deeply values your opinion and cares about how you see him. He starts paying more attention to his grooming and how he presents himself, hoping to make a good impression on you every day.

That being said, your positive responses mean the world to him, and every compliment you give boosts his confidence. Whether you compliment the way his glasses look on him, his hair, or his cute face, he’s already blushing and thanking you more times than you can count.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Would he feel incomplete without you? Oh, definitely. Koby literally devotes himself to you, doing his absolute best to keep you comfortable and happy. If something happened to you or if you left him for whatever reason (booo boooo!! I’m booing you!!🍅🍅🍅), it would feel like all the work he’s put in was completely discarded.

He would feel an overwhelming sense of loss and heartbreak, questioning if there was something he could have done differently. The thought of all the moments you’ve shared—the laughter, the struggles, and the love—being just memories would be unbearable. It would feel like losing a part of himself.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He has a sweet tooth that he tries to keep under wraps. That’s it. That’s the headcanon.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He definitely can’t stand cruelty or evilness. For Koby, a lack of compassion is a dealbreaker. He values kindness and empathy deeply, so someone who is entirely heartless or indifferent to others would be a poor match for him.

Even if someone is a bit rude but still shows a sense of heart and genuine care, Koby can appreciate that. He understands that people can have flaws and that everyone has their moments. What matters most to him is whether a person has the capacity for compassion and understanding.

But someone who exhibits no sign of compassion or kindness? That’s a whole different story. Koby is driven by a desire to make the world a better place and to support and uplift those around him. Being with someone who lacks any emotional depth or concern for others would clash with his core values and make a meaningful connection nearly impossible.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Snores, but very softly.

[kierankeane]

[Male he/his] Welcome to Aurora Bay, [KIERAN KEANE]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [ROBERT SHEEHAN]. You must be the [THIRTY THREE] year old [ATTENDANT at LUXE CRYSTAL SHOP]. Word is you’re [WHIMSICAL] but can also be a bit [ERRATIC] and your favorite song is [RIBCAGE by ANDY BLACK]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [SEABROOK QUARTER]. I’m sure you’ll love it!

Triggers: Drug addiction, death/murder, depression, mugging/robbery.

Kieran started life relatively normally. His parents came from big money in show business, and they decided that having a child meant they could parade him around as a new accessory. They had no idea how disastrously this would end for Kieran. At the time, they thought it was a great idea to use him in anything they could. Before long, he was walking, talking, and landing small roles here and there.

When he turned five, he landed the role of a lifetime: a series regular on a sitcom that moved him and his family from Ireland to Los Angeles. The show was reminiscent of Full House, and while his family tried to maintain a semblance of normalcy, being so young and so popular took a significant toll on Kieran’s mental state. He began to crave attention, and it was given to him in abundance, fostering an overwhelming sense of confidence that would later work against him.

Kieran stayed on the show for years until it was finally canceled after eight successful seasons. He quickly picked up a role in a coming-of-age film, which transitioned into a television series. However, at sixteen, he got his first taste of something he shouldn’t have. One day on set, feeling more exhausted than usual, he was given cocaine to perk him up and keep him going. This marked the beginning of a long and destructive relationship with drugs.

One night, under the heavy influence of drugs, he tried to sleep with his girlfriend and while she was willing to try it he stopped himself, the drugs weren't enough for him to disrespect his girlfriend. However later in the night they both ended up drinking heavily and she fell down a staircase. Overwhelmed by guilt he fled the scene, he paid off her family to keep them quiet. This, however, led to blackmail, with the family demanding more and more money. Eventually, the network decided Kieran was too much of a liability, and his character was written off the show.

The girl’s family gave up on pursuing him for money when it became clear he could no longer pay. As his residual checks started coming in, they were larger than he’d anticipated, but instead of stabilizing his life, he used the funds to fuel his drug addiction, sinking deeper into depression. One night, overwhelmed by despair, the girl he had hurt appeared. They reconciled, and while her parents disapproved, they couldn’t deny how happy she seemed with him.

That night, Kieran vowed to turn his life around. He checked himself into rehab and committed to the program more seriously than anything he’d ever done. He planned to rebuild his life for her and looked forward to starting fresh together once he completed treatment. Tragically, just one month into his rehab stay, his girlfriend was in the wrong place at the wrong time. She was mugged and fatally injured. By the time Kieran left rehab, he learned she had passed away and that he had missed her funeral.

Devastated but determined not to return to his old ways, Kieran left Los Angeles. At 29, he moved to Aurora Bay, hoping for a fresh start. Unsure of his path, he leaned into his long-standing affinity for crystals, an interest that had persisted even during his drug-fueled days. He built a new life around something he understood, seeking solace and purpose in the quiet coastal town. He still has an affinity for weed, but it’s the only thing he will touch, he has stepped away from any alcohol and is working day to day while living on his parent's money and any residual checks.

[ascendantevolution]

Watch "Transmute shadowy energy and send a new, STRONG SIGNAL of openness to the Universe 🔮Timeless Tarot" on YouTube

Our undealt with traumas become shadow elements within us. Those, when triggered, become shadowy expressions of our traumas. Shadow elements are hard to see within ourselves, largely because we don’t want to see them. They are painful reminders in our past, and frankly, they can become sources of embarrassment and shame. One shadowy expression is envy - not being able to see what we have and being grateful for it, but instead seeing what others have and feeling lack. It’s not illusion. It’s a lie. What the Universe is trying to bring in to you is going to look and feel different from what others have, so coveting what others has sends a confusing signal to the Universe that creates blockages for more abundance to come in. Do you really want what another has? Do you really want to be like them? A scarcity mindset may have lulled you into that dark dream - now awaken and SHIFT - transmute that shadow into light. Send a new signal - a STRONG SIGNAL to the Universe that says you are grateful, abundant, and open to receive. That is the most efficient way to land in the abundance the Universe has in store for you. 🔥🧚🧡🦁

Interested in the decks I am using? I have begun the work of cataloguing my collection of decks.

ESTARA’S DECK COLLECTION: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1a_B6pp6ezlpW0_GyZJJU_QU4A7DvyAYUHUX6Y3SEDy4/edit#

I want to thank you, thank you, thank you for liking, sharing, and subscribing. I wish you well on your sacred path. Blessed be.

To book a reading, email me at estara.ascendantevolution@gmail.com. I am also on IG, Tumblr, Pinterest, and Twitter

Note: This reading is not a substitute for professional help, whether medical or psychological. Please seek help from the appropriate source if you are in serious need. 🧡

Decks used in this reading are

Energy Oracle Cards: https://www.amazon.com/Energy-Oracle-Cards-53-Card-Guidebook/dp/1401940447/ref=sr_1_39?crid=16AUTREE2B6B4&keywords=archangel+oracle&qid=1684020697&sprefix=archa%252Caps%252C149&sr=8-39&_encoding=UTF8&tag=ascendantevol-20&linkCode=ur2&linkId=d4ae7d6615a3d2f12fe5f19e62642850&camp=1789&creative=9325

Spellcasting Oracle Cards: https://www.amazon.com/Spellcasting-Oracle-Cards-48-Card-Guidebook/dp/1788170776/ref=sr_1_3?crid=2QXYHOBFN2SMQ&keywords=spellcasting+oracle+cards&qid=1683988893&sprefix=spallcasting+oracle%252Caps%252C215&sr=8-3&_encoding=UTF8&tag=ascendantevol-20&linkCode=ur2&linkId=84dd015f2b63b7fc7d4f28f6d6d3b0c3&camp=1789&creative=9325

Goddess Power: https://www.amazon.com/Goddess-Power-Oracle-Deck-Guidebook/dp/1401959342/ref=sr_1_3?crid=2WP2IHQ8IG7IL&keywords=goddess+oracle&qid=1684021144&sprefix=g+oracle%252Caps%252C132&sr=8-3&_encoding=UTF8&tag=ascendantevol-20&linkCode=ur2&linkId=7f496b5ac20b7876b8c605cac5689773&camp=1789&creative=9325

Elemental Oracle: https://www.amazon.com/Elemental-Oracle-Alchemy-Science-Magic/dp/1925924688/ref=sr_1_1?crid=OUATCSROEJ3&keywords=elemental+oracle&qid=1683990029&sprefix=elemental+oracle%252Caps%252C107&sr=8-1&_encoding=UTF8&tag=ascendantevol-20&linkCode=ur2&linkId=30bcf087b0a1dacae9c53182aaa8688a&camp=1789&creative=9325

Sacred Earth Oracle: https://www.amazon.com/Sacred-Earth-Oracle-Carmine-Salerno/dp/0738759406/ref=sr_1_20?crid=6GHAAOY2P2LC&keywords=sacred+geometry+healing+cards&qid=1683989747&sprefix=sacred+geometry+healing+%252Caps%252C130&sr=8-20&_encoding=UTF8&tag=ascendantevol-20&linkCode=ur2&linkId=8b80c0818d71863956177ca9991f6fdf&camp=1789&creative=9325

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[broken-stardust]

Budding Sunshine

Summary: Reader has something to tell Spencer.

Category: Dad!Spencer with TransMale!Reader Angst/Fluff

A/n: this is for a fathers day thing my friends are putting together but I also love the idea of Spencer being the supportive dad I didn’t have at first

Content warnings: misgendering, bullying, homophobia, transphobia, f slur, (used once) dysphoria

Word Count: 1.4k

Within a week of his daughter getting her hair cut short, he noticed her mood drop exponentially. The day of, she had a new confidence about her, almost like she was a completely different person, but now, sitting at the kitchen table doing her homework on a Friday night, Spencer could tell something was off. Her shoulders were slouched over, her shirt halfway untucked, and it looked as if she'd been crying. It didn't take a profiler to tell that she was hurting. She always came to her dad when she needed help with something, but this past week she'd been distant. 

Maybe she was just at that age, Spencer told himself. She was 13, of course. He'd read enough parenting manuals to know that children begin to grow distant when they hit puberty. He knew the science behind it, too. As a young person matures, they want to figure out who they are as an individual, and they need a level of independence for that. 

Still, Spencer couldn't help but worry when he heard a little sniffle come from the table while he cooked dinner. Determined to help his daughter through whatever it was that was bothering her, he lowered the flame on the macaroni and cheese and took a seat next to her. Even if she told him to leave her alone, which was a strong possibility, he had to at least try. 

"Hey, Sunshine," he said. "What's up?"

~

I looked up from my geometry homework when I heard my dad's voice. I tried to wipe away my tears as inconspicuously as I could, but I knew it wouldn't work. He gently took hold of my hand as I reached for my face and placed it back down on my lap, opting to dry my tears with his hand instead. 

"Hey, Dad," I squeaked, grimacing at how high my voice came out. I looked anywhere I could to avoid eye contact, eventually picking up my pencil and focusing back on my homework. "How's it going?"

My dad sighed gently and plucked the pencil out of my hand, taking my hand in his instead. I looked up at him then, seeing concern swirling in his eyes. I almost started crying again just from knowing that I was making him so upset. 

"You know you can talk to me, right?" he said. 

Of course, I did. I'd come to my dad for every problem I'd had in the past. This just felt... different. If I told him, he'd look at me differently. Things would change, and I didn't want them to. I didn't know what to say, so I just nodded instead. He opened his mouth to say something, but I decided that I should just say it and get it out of the way. So that's what I did. 

"Ithinkimaboy."

There were a few seconds of silence which felt like hours before my dad said "what?"

"I-" I took a deep breath. "I think I'm a boy," I said more clearly. 

Another moment passed as my dad processed the information I'd just dropped on him like a bomb, and I suddenly wished that I had been in its path, blown to smithereens so I wouldn't have to witness the aftermath of my confession. 

"Alright."

The word hung in the air between us like a wrecking ball swinging side to side, ready to knock either of us down. Well, really it was just ready to knock me down. 

"Alright?" I repeated, dumbfounded at my father's reaction. It wasn't that I didn't expect him to be supportive; I knew he would be. I just hadn't expected such a calm reaction. 

"Yeah. You know, 0.6% of the American population is transgender. People are figuring out their gender identity and coming out at younger ages these days, so it's not surprising that you're having these feelings at your age. Puberty and the development of secondary sex characteristics can often lead transgender individuals to realize that they are, in fact, transgender." 

"Dad!" I giggled, squirming at the mention of puberty. "That's gross."

He laughed right along with me. He laid a hand on my shoulder and leaned in to kiss the top of my head before rustling my hair. With that, the light-hearted moment was gone, and my face fell as I remembered the real reason I was so upset. 

"That's not why you've been crying all week though," my dad observed, still playing with my hair. "Is it?" I shook my head and willed the tears not to come rolling down. "What's wrong, Sunshine?"

"Well I was really happy with my haircut," I fiddled with my fingers as I spoke even though I knew it was a dead giveaway as to how anxious I was. I couldn't help it. 

"Yeah, you were," Dad recalled with a smile. "You were basically bouncing off the walls."

"I was really excited to show it off at school." As I continued, the tears I'd been willing not to spill began to pour out of my eyes. "My friends asked me why I cut it so short, and I decided to tell them I'm trans..." I trailed off then, unsure of how to get the words out of my mouth. 

"It didn't go so well, did it?"

I shook my head and wiped away my tears, only for more to slide down my pink cheeks. 

"They said I was disgusting," I sobbed. "They called me a faggot."

Dad pulled me in for a hug and whispered words of affirmation into my head as I wet his shirt with my sorrows. My muffled cries slowly got quieter as he played with my hair, and eventually, I was the one to pull away. 

"This has been happening all week?" he asked. The worry in his eyes was abundant, and my heart broke a little. I knew what he'd gone through in school, and I knew he hated seeing something like that happen to me. "Have you told anyone?" he asked, but he already knew the answer. 

"I didn't want to get people's parents involved," I explained. "Things get worse when the adults step in. I thought I could handle it."

Dad shook his head slightly before resting it in his hand. I could tell that he was trying to think of a plan for how to deal with this. I had a feeling I wasn't going to like it. 

"Monday morning, we're going to talk to the principal together."

I was right. 

He explained to me that we weren't going to complain about the bullies; we were going to come out and ask that my information be changed in the school's database. He wanted all the teachers to know to call me by the right name and pronouns. And if kids were going to be assholes, I could deal with it now that I had him on my side. 

"I assume you do have a name you want to go by?" he asked eventually as we hatched our plan. I smiled. I was waiting for this. 

"Yeah," I beamed. "Can you please call me Y/N from now on?"

"Y/N," he repeated slowly as if taking in the information, soaking it all up so as not to forget it. "I like that name. It suits you."

If I hadn't been smiling before, I sure was now. Hearing my dad use the name I'd chosen for myself made my heart soar. 

"Thanks, Dad," I said with a smile. 

"Sure thing, Bud," he said in return. 

I'd been tear-free for at least ten minutes now, and one single word had just ruined that streak. With three simple letters, my dad broke down what seemed to be the walls of a dam behind my eyes, and I was suddenly crying again. I could see the panic in his eyes as he rushed to comfort me. 

"Hey, hey," he said rubbing soothing circles on my back. "What's wrong? Did I say something wrong?"

I shook my head with a big dopey smile glued to my face. 

"I just really like the nickname Bud."

My dad let out a huge sigh of relief when he realized I was now crying happy tears. He was about to say something when he was interrupted by a loud screeching sound coming from throughout the house. The fire alarm. 

"The mac and cheese!" I yelled, and he turned around, running to turn off the flame under the now burnt cheesy pasta. As I opened the window to air out the kitchen, Dad reset the fire alarm. 

"Do you want to start it over again?" I asked. He looked at me with tired eyes. "Or we could order a pizza," I offered instead. 

"That's my boy," he said, pulling me in for another hug.

[helianthus-tarot]

Pick-a-card: Signs that they are The One

What I meant by The One, is that person who you have the best chance to be in a successful healthy relationship with. You can have amazing relationships with more than one person, however the amount of effort and work might differ. I also encourage you to appreciate whoever you are with currently (or will be with) and keep your focus more on being the best partner you can be. I take all of my reading seriously (lol) but ultimately this is for entertainment.

That being said, I got several requests on The One so I decided to combine all in one reading. Also, I noticed that there are similarities between the piles, most piles have the element of change. This reading will answer:

Signs that they are The One

Their most noticeable quality

What you can do to get closer to union

...

Disclaimer: Click Here!

Instructions;

Center yourself and focus on the topic. Choose a number/picture that you feel the most drawn to, as if it is calling out to you. Try to not choose too many (less than 2). Trust your intuition & read the message under the cut.

May the message resonate. Please ignore my grammar mistakes. Feedback in any form is very much appreciated! See you in the next reading!

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PILE 1

Signs: 2 of Wands, The Fool, Judgement, 10 of Pentacles

You might meet your person after you have made a big decision; to go on a new journey, to start a new thing, or relocate. This is big change for you, not the “I’m going to Shop A instead of Shop B today”, it’s more on the same level as graduation, changing career path, relocation, starting a business, going back to school etc. If it was not you moving into a new house, you might meet them during a travel to a place a bit far from home. The key here is that- whatever action you will be taking, it will be a symbolism of you leaving the old behind and seeking a better future; or moving closer to your soul’s calling. You will meet them at that point of life when something ends and another thing begins; these things serve your soul’s purpose. Your person will come in with the change, so their appearance in your life might signify a big change, an end to your past OR how you know your life to be.  

Interactions you will have with this person will cause you to go within, reflecting back on your past actions, ending things that are toxic and harmful (be it people, habits, mentality, etc). They might also trigger a desire in you to really embrace a new life. You will feel adventurous, looking forward to what you can experience in life, willing to try new things more than ever. There will definitely be a spiritual element in your interactions, whether or not you/they are spiritual. The interaction and exchange will nourish your soul, it will also make you feel more alive (brimming with excitement, or overwhelmed with emotions). It will make you see and discover yourself. The same effect might be experienced by your person.

This person will be secure and established. Either it’s their social standing, having their own community, their job and finance, their personality, or the way they show love and care; something about it will ooze security and stability. Since it’s 10 of Pentacles, I think it has a material connotation to it, so financial stability or abundance. You will feel safe with them. They will show dependability and commitment. They will feel like someone you can build something lasting with. They will have a positive effect on your mind, you might be able to think more clearly when you are around this person. If you are the type to over-think or worry a lot, being around them will feel soothing and calming, you will feel as if you don’t have to worry much or that you are not stuck anymore, instead you will feel ready to move forward and focus on solutions. Life challenges won’t deter or worry you as much as they did before.

You guys might also have a lot of conversations on how to build more stability in life. You will be planning, brainstorming, bouncing ideas off each other. So this might also be someone who you will have a work or business project with, or they will help you with yours.

You will be born anew. Your life will be changed.

Most noticeable quality: Priest

Their noticeable quality is their strong faith in something; it could be in the universe, it could in religion, it could be in their path, their passion, their principles and code, etc. I don’t feel like it’s religion, I’m getting more of a set of beliefs or moral principles that they stand for. You’ll see this in their behaviors, in what they talk about, in their opinions. Integrity. Walk-the-talk. It might also be surprising, like you won’t expect someone like them has a set of codes they follow. Easy example, imagine someone who is well-admired choosing to not lead someone on (even when they can and have ample opportunity to do so), because they believe it’s not the right thing to do.

This also tells me about their effect on you. I think they will help you with your soul’s purpose, intentionally or unintentionally. In a good way. You will be feeling closer to your truth, so you will be more joyful, more peaceful and more connected to yourself and the universe as a result. They could also be the kind of person who lives their soul’s purpose; they might be doing or want to do things that they are passionate about.

What you can do: Wheel of Fortune, Page of Cups

Eh… you just have to wait. Lol. I feel like it will come when the time is right. Remember I mentioned about how you might meet them when something is ending and another thing is starting? That might be something that is not in your control, or it might be facilitated by an external event a.k.a external event might be the thing that will push you to make that change.

There is still something we can take from the Wheel tho; go with the flow. So when an external event happens and requires you to change, do it, don’t resist, don’t hold onto the old ways. Of course you can think and learn about what you are getting yourself into before you make any kind of decision, but there is a message to trust in the universe and flow with it. Especially when something weird or unexpected happens, something big (since you got The Fool).

You can also learn to manage your emotions, especially in regard to your emotional response toward change. Maybe take it easy, try to be curious and lighthearted about it. Try to find little things in life to be joyful about while ‘waiting’ for the Wheel to turn and bring you closer to your person. You can also learn more about love; the healthy way to love someone and yourself, what is the healthy view of love, how you want to treat someone, etc. Learn anything that can help you be a good partner, to your partner and yourself. Prepare yourself to love someone. You can also envision how you want to love your person. 

......................

PILE 2

Signs: Wheel of Fortune Rx, 8 of Swords, 3 of Pentacles, The Tower

This has the same element as Pile 1, as in, you might meet this person when you are going through a big or sudden change; either it will be self-imposed or it will be an external event happening in your life triggering the change. You can check Pile 1 if you are attracted to it. Either way, this has a more resistant feeling. You might be resistant to the change, or even to your person lol. This might be someone who you won’t expect to appear in your life due to whatever reason. Their appearance might shock or surprise you which might be the reason why you will be resistant toward it; it might happen quite unexpectedly. Honestly, they might also feel this way toward you.

Weirdly enough I don’t feel like 8 of Swords is their energy. I think it is or will be your energy by the time you guys meet. Either you will have been in this energy even before you meet them, or you will be in this energy when you meet them. You might over-think or doubt that it’s them. But it is. It is the person that is destined to enter your life. You might feel like it is not happening at the right time, in the right place, or in the right way; but this doesn’t mean it isn’t right. It might also be related to work, with 3 of Pentacles. So a change in career or work project that you won’t expect. Honestly, they might also show up at your workplace suddenly, or you might suddenly be sent to go somewhere (to a program, an event, or a different branch etc and meet them there).  

Someone will make a proposal (not a marriage proposal) but someone will be offering something to another person and I’m feeling like it will be work related, nothing personal. It could be a collaboration, an invitation, a help, a suggestion, a network, etc. The receiver will be a bit hesitant or unreceptive toward it because like I said before it might be sudden/unexpected, it might also be that it will look too good to be true. I’m strongly feeling like your person will be the one who makes the proposal.

When you get to know this person and they share their life story with you, you will notice that they have been through some extreme things, or some massive changes. You will also recognize them by their ability to take care of themselves; something about them that gives off this impression. So it might be their nice clothes, the fact that they keep their shoes polished, the fact that they keep their hair trimmed nicely. Something that says ‘I take care of myself’. Despite their vibe, which we will talk in the next section.

Most noticeable quality: Destroyer

Lol. This is related to the previous section, since you got The Tower. Your person is intense. Sharp. Decisive. When they walk into a room, it will feel like they are pulling the energy around them. They are someone noticeable. You wont be able to ignore them. Fiery, blunt, impatient at times. Might be intimidating as well. Might have a strong or loud clear voice. This person changes things. They have low patience toward things that don’t work anymore. Their existence, their approach, when they interact with life; it’s like life itself changes, noticeably. And not for meaningless purpose, either. They might have this effect on you, in a sense that you will have to change something in your life after coming into contact with them.

Your person might also have a lot of control over change. It could be over their own life, and for some of you, it might also extend to the external environment. They might resist control, they don’t like to be controlled or be under someone else’s power. The thing about this type of people is that- they will either take themselves out of any system and go setting up their own venture (entrepreneur, artist, musician, freelancer, etc), or they will move to a position of power within an existing structure; anything that has a hierarchy, they will move to the top. Well, the unhealthy ones will probably be troublemakers, destroying and causing shit in people’s lives. But since we are talking about The One, I doubt they are like that. Maybe they used to be a troublemaker when they were a teen, who knows.

Your person doesn’t like to be stuck, or to stay in a shitty situation. They will want to find a solution and get done with it.

What you can do: 10 of Swords, Ace of Pentacles

Something needs to end in your life. If you are holding onto something, whatever it is, this is a message for you to let it go. It could be a relationship, it could be mentality, behaviors, past pain and wounds, fear and insecurity, a stage of life. If you have negative behavior patterns or habits, change them, put an end to them. You need to do this so that you will be ready to take on opportunities coming your way, so that it will be easier for you to start again on a more stable ground, so you can expand and create more abundance in your life.

If you are not holding onto anything, then you might simply have to wait for a new thing to come in, for the sun to rise again as it will bring in an opportunity. It will be related to establishing your stability. Depending on your age, it could be an opportunity to establish a stable foundation of your life, your career, your finance. An opportunity to expand and manifest more abundance in your life. While waiting for it, heal whatever is left to heal, make peace with your shadow, develop your intuition, and be ready to receive. Whatever has been causing you pain is about to end.

.....................

PILE 3

Signs: 9 of Wands, Page of Cups, Ace of Cups, The World

Key sign that they are The One is that they are someone who learns from their experiences. Yes, many people do but not everyone can make profound and insightful conclusions about their experiences. Your person has this ‘philosophical and wise’ vibe to them, which might not be obvious right away. You will feel a contrast/duality from this person. They might come off as lighthearted and easy-going, but when you have a private conversation with them, you will notice that they do give thought to things around them. What they say will give you something to think about, something to learn.

They could have experienced a lot of struggles in life, who knows. But by the time you guys meet, they will have come to a point where they can look back to their past and actively choose to be at peace with it, learn as much as they can and look forward to the future. Not in a fiery “I’ll burn my past and move the fuck on,” kind of way lol; but more… watery. So Pisces, Cancer, also Libra, Scorpio.. could be, but Scorpios can be intense so I wouldn’t bet on it. There is also Sagittarius/Jupiter/9th house energy to this, Sagittarius rising perhaps. Someone who is resilient in the face of ups and downs in life, because they have experienced enough to understand the flow, the interconnectivity between them and the rest of the universe. Probably also someone who has made peace with their shadow. They will be spiritual, not necessarily religious. Emotionally mature. I know with Page of Cups, maturity probably should have been the last thing to appear in the reading. But with the combination of 9 of Wands and The World, I think this Page is just a front.

You will feel emotionally nourished by this person, being with them will have this calming and peaceful effect on you. The connection will not feel hard or intensely overwhelming. It will feel like coming home. You will become softer and more open with your vulnerability with them, especially if you are the type who tends to put up walls. They will ‘make’ you want to divulge your life story and secrets, opinions and philosophy. Their eyes might look deep as if they can see through your soul. Something about their eyes. I’m really feeling water signs here, could be water rising as well with Sagittarius or 9th house placements.

By the time you meet this person you might be feeling a bit pessimistic or tired of love connections, but being around them will make you want to try again. You will have a lot of philosophical talks together, exchanging views and why you see the world in a certain way. The exchange will not be pessimistic, this person will not feel pessimistic at all. They will feel wise, there’s a difference. They might come from a place that is far away; that requires air travel. It could be someone in a different state or it could be a foreigner from a different country. For some of you, this person might be from a European country. And white, or lighter skin color. Idk why I got it that specific.  

Basically, look out for someone who appears easy-going and kinda social (knowing or getting along with different people); but who is philosophical, understanding and wise once you get closer and have some private conversations with them. Your intuition will be able to sense that they have layers to them; as if they hold a different story from what they show to the world.

Most noticeable quality: Guide

This is simply an echo of the previous section. The oracle card supports the message of The World pretty well. So while your person can appear as if they have no problems in the world, or as if they just take it easy and flow through life, the most noticeable quality about this person is their wisdom. It can be felt in their words, their thoughts, their beliefs, the perspective they choose to take. It’s when they comment on, let’s say, an issue- like I said before, you will know that they think things through and that they feel deeply. Which might be contradictory to their usual lighthearted demeanor. 

Their friends circle might also go to them for advice, insights, or simply to feel understood. You’ll notice that they have people from all walks of life as acquaintances. For some of you, your person will actually be someone who has a lot of friends. For others of you, your person might have a lot of people around them but at the same time they will also look solitary.

Anyhow, although this is their most noticeable quality, I don’t think it will be obvious ha ha. It is something you will see only when you get close enough or spend enough time with them. They will have a spiritual effect on you; being in contact with them will impact your spirituality and your relationship with yourself/the universe.

What you can do: 7 of Wands, 6 of Swords

You need to stand strong in your beliefs and things you have chosen for yourself. If you still haven’t made a decision on who want you to be, what beliefs and values you want to have, what philosophy you want to hold, how you see yourself in relation to the rest of the world; you might want to go within and make some decisions, and you need to be ready to defend them. Hold onto your moral and life principles.

There is something you need to walk away from; it is something that does not serve your highest good anymore. If you have a limiting belief, replace that belief with what you want to believe (which also serves your highest good). That’s the feeling I’m getting. For some of you, if your current environment is toxic or makes you feel as if you need to constantly defend yourself; you might want to leave the environment and live somewhere else if possible. It might not be easy, it might be a mentally exhausting process; but better things will come.

Again, get clear about your values, beliefs, life purpose, self-image, etc. These might also come up in conversations you will have with your person. Your person might also trigger some pain and wounds, whether they realize it or not. It’s just a sign that you will need to further heal those wounds, that’s all.

If you are attracted to Pile 2, then one of these two piles is your actual pile, I don’t feel like it’s both. Pile 2 holds a different intense energy; it can’t be the same person.

.....................

PILE 4

Signs: Death, 2 of Wands, Knight of Swords, Queen of Swords

I want to avoid talking about the same thing but Death wanted to come out. Pile 1, 2 and 3 all have the element of change lmao I guess we need to change before meeting The One. This one feels like Pluto meeting Mercury.  

One of the signs is that they will be cerebral/intellectual. I’m not sure why I feel like guys might argue or debate about some shit in your first conversation. Especially if you are cerebral as well, which I think you are. If you don’t feel connected to the air element, if you think you are not cerebral or opinionated, this might not be your pile so see if you can choose another one. Both of you will have strong opinions, and you might clash at first because of this. You will debate about something complex; if there would be a debate at all it wouldn’t be about one person walking too slow and the other person getting annoyed, it would be about something like ‘what things should change to eradicate/reduce poverty’, ‘whether potential parents should be evaluated before being allowed to have children’, ‘should you keep a private account from your marriage partner’. Controversial or complex topics.

Both of you will have been affected by some massive events in your life. This is something you will bond over, but this is also something that will cause that first clash (it will be influencing your responses). The massive event could be a trauma, death, bullying, accidents, betrayal, toxic relationships or any life-altering event. I think it’s you who will be heavily influenced by your past during the debate. Your person might be speaking from experience or from their observations of other people experience, either way- the topic will be personal to them but it might not appear like it at that time. They will have a more optimistic view, although they might be blunt. You will have a more realistic and dark view about it; which some people might consider pessimistic.

But you see, you might feel a bit frustrated, they might look frustrated, OR other people might think you guys are fighting. But both of you deep down will feel kinda… exhilarated? Intoxicated? by the debate. It will intrigue both of you. It will make both of you acknowledge and get curious about each other. They might make a point that you will deep down find reasonable, vice versa. Someone here will exceed expectations.

By the time you meet them, you both will still be figuring things out; about your life and where you want to go after this. So you might meet them at college or university, or early stage of your career. Sometimes they will look fearless, like a person who is ready to cut Death itself.  

Basically, you guys will connect intellectually. Right off the bat you guys might disagree with something but you will know they use their brain, and they will know you use your brain. They will be more careless though. It might need a little bit of work, but you guys are much more similar than what your initial debate might show. I don’t think you disagree with the what should be done, just the how you should approach it. If you have a tendency to be impatient toward bullshit, this person will be the same. No games, no mind reading, no beating around the bush with this person. Your attitude toward the past will be similar.

Most noticeable quality: Child, Eternal

This person is much more playful than how they appear at first. Don’t let their strong opinions and bluntness fool you. They can be a child; most of the time, in a good way, occasionally a bit annoyingly. It depends. They can be affectionate, teasing, and are probably much more sensitive than whatever ‘tough’ ‘cool’ image they show to the world. I’m getting Aries energy, Sagittarius, Gemini. I don’t know what stance or perspective they will take in the debate, but this person is actually hopeful and optimistic about life. It’s in their nature to want to move forward. They want things to go well without any complications, so they might react to this need by addressing problems as soon as possible. The type who will just ask what’s your problem when they feel like you are hiding something. This person might not want to take a heavy, Scorpionic approach to seeing things, whether or not they have experienced dark things in their life. They could have Scorpio in them, since we have Death here, but they will engage more with their cerebral side.

So if you have a heavy Scorpio/Pluto energy and you are used to talk about the dark shit, then that might be the reason why you clash at first. It’s not like they can’t see what you see, it’s just that, they might have this resistance to staying too long in the dark. Who knows, being with you might get them to get used to do so.  

What you can do: 6 of Swords, 9 of Pentacles

This one is more about self-love. 6 of Swords can talk about moving away and healing your pain, not carrying them with you. 9 of Pentacles can talk about enjoying the fruits of your labor, it is also a woman who is independent and pretty much takes care of herself. I’m not sensing heavy energy for you. It might simply loose ends that need to be tied up, residue of painful experience that needs to be removed, that’s all.

You might also want to pamper yourself. Or have some self-care activities, be it taking some time to do skincare while meditating, having a cup of tea while reading a book every Saturday morning, going on a date with yourself and get some ice-cream after a job well done. It’s up to you. But something that can help you feel better, and enjoy day-to-day life more. Try new things, such as new projects or hobbies if you want, say yes to invitations from friends (after the pandemic or in a small group lol). Honestly you might meet your person then.  

.....................

PILE 5

Signs: 9 of Cups, The Star, 2 of Wands, Ace of Pentacles

You will meet them after either you or them have just gone through a heartbreak, most likely a break-up or a disastrous past relationship. The person who experiences the heartbreak will want to move away from the past, either by relocating or taking a different job; the change will be heavily influenced by the desire to move away from the heartbreak and the desire to focus on their own improvement/life. I’m feeling like this is most likely them, but it’s not weird if you mirror each other.  

Your person will be your dream comes true, or you will be theirs, or both. Almost feels like a ‘reward’ after hardship.

They will be emotionally mature and wise. Someone who has learned enough life lessons to share some of their wisdom with others. Could be older than you. But they will look emotionally grounded, warm, giving the impression that you can depend on them. I don’t feel like they are the type who will gush and fret over someone, busily taking care of someone else; they will simply look composed and stable. They might be reasonably private about their personal life, not everything we can share with everyone, but they wont have tough walls or exterior to crack.

When you meet them, they will be living their life purpose or building something which can help them get closer to their life purpose. This person will be working on a personal project; they will be starting something they can call theirs. It could be their own business, a new department, a new invention, etc. It will have a purpose of realizing their own vision, representing them as a person. When you look at their project, you can see their personality being reflected back. You might be in awe of them; how focused they are in realizing their ideas. It might also inspire you.

Honestly I can’t talk about financial stability when we only have Ace of Pentacles here, but this is a promise. When you look at them, you will think to yourself like ‘ah they will succeed’. That’s the impression they will leave on you. Even if their project turns out to be unsuccessful, with that personality and sense of direction, you know they can go far. They might not have everything yet (everything they want to manifest), but they are not a beginner either, so they will not give off that instability of an apprentice who is just starting or an entrepreneur who has nothing in their pocket.

Most noticeable quality: Visionary

You’ll notice them from their desire to make their dreams happen. They have dreams, vision, you name it; but they are not impractical. They will go out there and figure out how to make it happen. You will notice them from how focused they are on the future, and on building and bringing things into a reality. So they might talk a lot about the future; the next actions they want to take, things they want to do, whether they should implement this idea or that idea, or maybe they should go about it this way instead of that way, their observation of the market trends etc. There isn’t as much intensity in this pile in comparison to other piles, but there is definitely an element of ‘focused actions’ here. They might also have an ability to understand cause-and-effect; which might allow them to strategize their moves. Not surprised if they are also ambitious, not as penetrating or intense as Pile 2, but at least they will look ambitious to people who prefer a routine simple life.

They will also have some causes they believe in, like, social responsibility- they will want to contribute back to the community. But I’m not feeling it strongly so it might be underneath all of their goals and vision, and it might not be their main priority, just an extra wish. For example, let’s say you guys are having a conversation about the future and their goals and then they tell you that oh they are actually passionate and care about children with disabilities, and they want to help create a tool that can be convenient for those people, or they want to do something for those people once they get where they want to be in life. Just an example.

What you can do: Page of Wands, Knight of Pentacles

For those of you who have some big decisions to make, there is a message to follow the path that serves your highest good.

If you have a dream you want to make happen but you haven’t because you think it’s unrealistic, then, definitely reconsider. It might look unrealistic or you might feel shy and scared to try it, because maybe it’s different and ‘what will people say’, but you have Page of Wands here so definitely give it a shot. Of course don’t sacrifice your stability especially not right away, but try to look deeper into how you can make it successful. Knight of Pentacles can represent consistent and steady effort. Honestly this makes sense, because your person is the type who will go after their vision and try to make it happen; by doing the same thing in your life, you are actually matching their energy. Even if it doesn’t turn out to be successful, at least when you meet this person you can say that you had something you fought for, a dream you tried to materialize. That matters.  

For those who have figured out their journey and goals, keep going. Whatever you are doing or planning to do, keep at it. You might be trekking an uncharted path, your path might be different than people around you and success isn’t guaranteed, but hey you’ll never know unless you try.

....................

[maevesdarling]

The Book of Boba Fett spoilers!!!

Okay now that the final TBOBF episode is done, I can finally write down one of my main dislikes on the show and a fear that this'll turn into an actual problem in modern Television soon...

Yes, you may think what problem could I mean? The fact that the main character of the show was sidelined to the point that I only rever to it as "The Mandalorian 2.0"? The fact that we had an abundance of established and well loved characters thrown into the show, as usual, to keep older viewers hooked and lead to some soulless nostalgia? Or maybe that you could feel how little thought actually went into setting up Bobas story, it was about Din all along? Again no. 

My main argument is setting up a much deeper problem that is slowly surfacing in the age of streaming services and binge watching. We as watcher are not supposed to wait anymore. On anything. Remember 22 episode long seasons? Filler episodes? Pointless but funny vacation episodes, or holidays? Halloween? The joy of seeing your favorite characters in a costume, doing the most pointless thing like going trick or treating and getting lost on a cemetery or something? A character leaving, like Grogu, and not returning for at least two or three episodes? Like, we talking no appearance at all. And when we see him again there's this feeling of joy, that our baby is finally back with his dad and although we haven't seen him for a few episodes, it was important to show Din dealing with his loss and actually trying to overcome it before realizing he and his son should not be apart. Instead, we get the barest minimum of Din without Grogu before he's going to visit him. And then the show actually did something great by setting up Grogu having to choose his path and I was exited to see what he'd choose, let alone how long it'll take until we'd see him again. It was the perfect set up for season 3 of the Mandalorian, you have Din working as a bounty hunter/ hired gun for Boba, while dealing with the fact that he cannot visit Grogu, while Grogu is struggling to choose his way, but no! Instead we destroyed the whole set up by having them reconnect just one episode later. 

And that is the problem. There's no patience in modern tv. You don't have to sit through weekly episodes, hoping to see a glimpse of your favorite character, because half of the shows are available to stream so as soon as you notice an episode is not catering to your likes you just skip it and head on to the next one, and if it's a weekly episode show, like Book of Boba, they just pull something like this and result any issues the following episode without having the viewer hang on for a couple of episodes, but then again with only seven episodes how were they supposed to get much done, this is another problem linked to the fact that we as viewers are not supposed to have any patience anymore, the seasons get shorter and shorter to the point were you can comfortably finish them in a single day before heading on, there's a new show coming out every other day and you need to watch them all to keep up to date remember? So don't dwell on any shows too long and get going, chop chop!

The fact that they even set up what could be a Cobb stand alone series in the finale is actually insane. Book of Boba is literally nothing more than an extended the Mandalorian season, a set up for other shows and the barest minimum of "oh yeah we had to find a title character for this, we decided on Boba Fett, here, he'll get a minimum backstory I'm sure everyone wants to know how he escaped the sarlac pit and survived in the desert after all, but remember, we have to make this quick there's other more important characters..."

I was so excited for the show because I loved Boba and Fennec in the Mandalorian and I was exited to see them as the title figures but I was so deeply let down I actually didn't watch the past two episodes because at this point I am fed up with the Mandalorian, like I actually get angry sometimes looking at him. This is not his show and as much as I love him and Grogu all he did was steal precious screentime from the actual main character. Can you even imagine how awful that must feel? To the actors? 

I've never been one to connect with modern Television, I usually find one or two new shows per year, the rest is mostly reruns or discovering old shows and you know why? Because when you watch a show from the 80s, the 90s or even the early 2000s, even if some of the stuff they say or do can be seen as problematic, these shows had what the Book of Boba Fett is lacking, and that is an actual heart...

[prfctethereal]

in my head. | remus lupin

thank u, next x marauders

alexa, play in my head by ariana grande

pairing: remus lupin x reader

summary: you try to tell remus how perfect you think he is, but his insecurities get in the way

word count: 1,819

warnings: mentions of injury

a/n: yuh, in my head is one of my favourites from thank u next and i really love this story ahhh it's so cute okay bye - kennedy

***

Love was a funny thing. When you’re in love with someone, you tend to focus on the good of the person, and completely ignore all of their flaws. Whether you convince yourself that you’re different and you don’t do that, it will be true for everyone. Everything about the person you love is distorted through rose coloured glasses.

I always thought of Remus Lupin as a perfect angel. From the first time our eyes met on the train in first year, I knew I would grow to care for him deeply. Even later on, when we became the closest of friends, as well as with James, Sirius, and Peter, I knew I would care for him forever.

It was me who first noticed something strange with Remus the first year, only raising slight concerns when he would disappear for a few days and come back, cuts on his face and arms littered with bruises. Pointing this out to him only made him shy away, so I took my concerns and thoughts over to the other boys.

Second year was when we finally confronted Remus about what was going on. Ashamed of himself, he explained of his lycanthropy, expecting us to leave him, but of course, we did not. By now, my heart had begun to flutter whenever I caught Remus’ gaze from across the classroom or whenever our hands grazed each other’s when passing books between us. I knew I liked Remus in a different way to the other boys.

We never left Remus’ side when we found out he was a werewolf. He expected us to think of him as a monster, but I only saw another thing to hush about him in private. His bravery, his courage. his persistence. He seemed perfect to me, not bothering to suspect that maybe lycanthropy was a flaw.

Perfection. As we grew older, I only saw Remus as perfect. Perfect cedar hair that swept to the side, fluffing at the top of his head. Warm, inviting eyes that perfectly swirled with wonder and mystery. Scars across his face, seemingly endearing. It came natural to me in third year when I realised that I had a crush on the wolf boy, confusing me as to why I hadn’t realised earlier.

In fourth year, my love for Remus only grew stronger and in fifth year, the other marauders and I made a pact to become animagi to help Remus during his full moons, much to his disputes.

When it was time to show Remus our animagus forms, we ushered him into the Room of Requirement one quiet night, a few days before the full moon. It was a risky idea as Remus often became more and more anxious as the full moon came closer but we thought the revelation would calm him down.

“I don’t understand what we’re doing here.” Remus muttered, playing with the fingers in his hands anxiously. I stood by his side, wrapping my arm around him comfortingly, as Sirius started explaining what was going on.

“I know that you always feel alone and scared during the full moons so we wanted to find a way to help you.” Sirius said, gesturing to the group around us. When Remus looked my way, I gave him a small smile, feeling a blush rise on my cheeks, as Sirius continued. “So, we made it our mission to become animagi.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Remus looked absolutely terrified, getting all flustered as he pulled away from us, backing away against a wall. “That’s dangerous, that’s illegal. I can’t have you guys in trouble because of me.”

“It’s okay Remus.” James said, trying to calm down the anxious werewolf, turning into a majestic stag to show him.

“We’re going to be with you on your full moons and help you.” Peter added, before changing into a small rat, squirming around to Remus’ feet.

“It’s been researched that werewolves won’t try to attack animals as much as people.” Sirius offered, turning himself into a dog, whimpering as he brushed up against the stag next to him.

Remus strolled over to me, concern welling up in his pleading eyes. “Not you too, please don’t say you’re an animagus too.”

Slightly offended, I turned myself into a delicate hummingbird and gently rested on Remus’ shoulder. He looked almost like he was about to cry. In a hushed voice, he whispered so only I could hear: “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Right then, James turned back into his person form and said, “please just let us help you. Let us be there for you, as your friend.”

“Plus,” I mentioned, becoming a person again too, “I’m working towards becoming a healer, so I can help patch you up as well afterwards.” I sent Remus a small smile.

So, it was decided. Each full moon after that, we went with Remus through his transformation, and every full moon, I fell deeper and deeper in love with him.

It was probably all the time we spent together after the full moon, only the two of us left in the shrieking shack, when the rest of the boys went to fetch Madame Pomfrey. The quiet chats we would share for the twenty minutes we had to ourselves, talking about nothing and everything, as the near exhausted Remus laid half awake, muttering a string of thank you’s under his breath.

One particular night, Remus didn't have that bad of a transformation, leaving him less bruised and battered than usual, only a few cuts across his torso and face. Insisting he didn’t need Madame Pomfrey, he trusted me in fixing him up all by myself.

“Thank you.” Remus breathed out after a few minutes of silence since the boys had left. I blushed, nothing unusual, hiding my scarlet didn’t cheeks with a dirty rag I had wiped the dirt off of him with.

“What do I always say, Rem?” I asked, carefully stroking the damp cloth across his chest, cleaning up the dried blood. “You don’t have to thank me for helping you.”

“But I want to.” Remus started, taking my hand in his, raising it up close to his face to gently kiss my knuckles. “You don’t have to be here right now. You shouldn’t have to be here right now. You look too tired to be looking after me all the time. Go to bed.”

“No. I’m here for you, because I love you and you’re my friend.” It just slipped past my lips, those three words. On the outside, it looked like just another thing I said, going back to working at the cuts across his chest. Inside, my heart was working overtime, beating faster than usual. I couldn’t believe I had just said that.

Eyes flickering upwards towards Remus, I took in the fact that he had dozed off, probably not even hearing the confession that had fallen without me trying, and I was okay with that. He looked perfect, quietly sleeping there, eyes shut, so I worked silently, patching up his cuts, placing a single kiss on his hairline as he slept.

***

The next day tradition was always visiting Remus in the hospital wing as Madame Pomfrey always insists he stays there for an extra day. After classes, the rest of the marauders and I piled into the wing to tell Remus about their days.

Today, I stayed quiet, still shocked about what I had confessed the night earlier. As the boys kept Remus occupied, I anxiously waited for when he would eventually ask to talk to me.

As the boys dispersed from the hospital wing, I felt a shaking hand grab mine, pulling me to stay. My heart was thumping out of my chest but I stayed put, sitting on the edge of Remus’ bed, looking into his perfect eyes.

“You’ve been awfully quiet.” Remus muttered, playing with my own fingers mindlessly. “Is something on your mind?”

I needed to tell him. It was the perfect time to tell him about how I felt but I couldn’t find the right words to say. Everything felt like a jumble in my head. Nothing was coming out of my throat and my brain was blank.

“I’ll tell you what,” Remus said, squeezing my hand reassuringly, “once I get out of here, we can go raid the kitchens together, like we used to, you know? And after that, we can go sit by the black lake and read one of your muggle books you always read.”

“You’re perfect, you know that, right?” I whispered under my breath, getting a soft chuckle out of Remus.

“I’m far from perfect, sweetheart.”

But I didn’t believe him. He always proved himself wrong in different aspects. Holding up to his promises, he came with me to the kitchens, telling the elves to fetch an abundance of chocolate, a love we shared between us.

Walking down to the black lake together, it was solemn but peaceful. Sounds of animals chirping and leaves rustling filled the air, a light breeze brushing past us as we walked down the path. Once we got to our favourite spot, we sat down, with Remus pulling out an old copy of Alice in Wonderland to read.

As he read aloud, I couldn’t concentrate on what he was saying. All I knew was that it was finally time to tell him how I felt about him. It was time to tell him that I was in love with him.

“I need to tell you something.” I abruptly said, interrupting Remus’ reading of the book. He looked up at me, humming, egging me to go on.

“You’re perfect.” I reinstated, much like I said before in the hospital wing, but instead of getting a glimpse of laughter like before, I was met by Remus’ confused eyes.

“Remus,” I sucked in a breath of air, “I’m in love with you.”

Silence. A pause. At that moment, I knew I had blown it. He stared at me, not saying a word, until he murdered something, so quietly I almost didn’t hear.

“No, here’s the thing: you’re in love with a person you’ve created in your head, that you are trying to, but cannot fix. The only thing you can fix is yourself.”

My heart stopped.

“You don’t want to love me, [Y/N], I’m a monster.”

Acting on instinct, I cupped his cheek with my hand, placing a soft kiss on his temple, that was immediately washed away by a tear that had rolled down my own cheek.

“You’re not a monster.” My voice was shaky. “And I do love you. There’s nothing you can do about it.”

And he held me closer, placing a kiss on my lips. Out of shock, I didn’t know what to do, but then, I kissed back, pulling my arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. When we pulled away, I stared into his perfect eyes.

Perfect.

“I love you too, [Y/N].

[rouiyan]

𝘞𝘐𝘛𝘏 𝘓𝘖𝘝𝘌, <3 [ 𝘭.𝘫𝘯 ]

synopsis: in which the worst christmas ever takes a turn for the better (and it rhymes!)

✧ idol!lee jeno x (fem.) reader ✧ best friends to lovers

✧ genres : fluff →  ᵃⁿᵍˢᵗ →  FLUFF ✧ word count : 2.8k ✧ disclaimers : none

✧ author’s note — an impulsively written fic, done in a single one-hour-long sitting, and therefore isn't structured very well and has two or three potential plot holes. was the og christmas special but then 'this shirt of his' decided it wanted to go from 300 words to >10k so there's that. merry early christmas !!

"oh dear, that was not a look," jeno hopes the sarcasm in his voice masks his fear. he's a second too slow when he pulls the photo away from your sight, you've already seen the garish fit, blue jeans with an odd cut and the equally blue long-sleeve paired with thick rimmed glasses and matted hair. haechan steals the photo from behind jeno's back and shoves it your way, a mischievous plot already forming in mind. to his delight, jeno's face grows in horror as he watches you grin excitedly at the picture in your hands. "aww, you were so awkward back then. this one's one of my favorites," jeno flushes deeply at your words, there is not a thing in him that can help it. unearthing the photo albums from their trainee days wasn't his idea. rather, it was yours, also making it so he couldn't help it.

"i think we're done for today," he hurriedly shuts the album in front of him without realizing you were still holding onto the photo. you look as if you were to complain and he's also a second away from opening it up again just to dissipate the frown on your face. instead, you say something a little more horrifying, "then can i keep this one? i like it-"

"no!" he retraces as fast as he'd exclaimed, "i mean- wait, why?"

renjun fakes vomits in the background as you reach up to pat down some of jeno's wild hairs. he's just as sick of this as haechan and the others. rolling his eyes, he watches the scene unfold before him like some monotonous kdrama, the male lead always ends up with the female lead anyways. hand back at your side, you let a giggle erupt from your bearings. jeno's face heats up a little more. "why are you so embarrassed, jen? it's not like i didn't know you back then."

the boy in front of you drags a hand across his neck in attempt to cool down the feverish feeling. "i- i know, it's just-" it's just i've liked you since back then. "i don't know," i've always known that i liked you. "it's nothing, really." what you think of me means the world to me.

jeno blinks once and you're one step closer to him. he debates never blinking again if it means never missing your actions. your hand is warm against his as you slip the picture into his palm, closing his fingers around it. jeno takes note of how your voice is also warm, "then keep it, i don't want it if you're not comfortable with me having it."

the picture lays on his bedside table as he stirs in the dark. the winter is cold and his blankets, though thick and abundant, do nothing to warm his heart, something he knows from experience only your presence can alleviate. 

jeno is more than eager to toss his blankets aside and go back to gaming but he remembers the text you'd sent after you'd gotten back to your place. something like sleep early <3 though he really only remembers the '<3' part for sure. funny enough, that's the one thing that keeps him up all night.

jeno counts one minute this time, only one minute after he'd pressed the 'post' button, until he sees your username and accompanying profile picture pop up in his notifications. the nct instagram account is for all the members' use but he knows that you only follow it to like his posts exclusively. it's totally not as if he'd checked each and every post to see which ones you liked. jeno beams and punches a subtle fist into the air under the counter. unluckily for him, haechan notices. "what, she liked your post again? you know, she liked mine too."

maybe it's actually a lucky happenstance that haechan had noticed. "what?! no, she didn't." jeno dives back into the depths of his phone and scrolls through to find his friend's christmas selfie. haechan only chuckles beside him and upon hearing this, jeno looks up with a slight twitch of his lip, "so you're kidding." taking his empty cereal bowl in both hands, haechan's smile only grows snarkier as he slips off the stool. he claps a hand onto jeno's shoulder, "chin up lover boy, we all know she's only got eyes for you."

jeno clips down a smile as he returns to his own cereal, the flakes now soggy and the milk now gray. he downs it all in three gulps, sets the bowl back on the counter, spoon clattering, and reverts his eyes back onto his phone just in time to see an incoming text from you lighting the lockscreen. merry christmas! i think i might have time to come over later today, like late late. ask the others if that's fine with them. he doesn't ask, he already knows it's fine when he replies not a second afterwards yeah sure, merry christmas to you too, he pauses, taking a breather before sending the next, extremely risky, text, see you later <3.

slamming his phone face down on the counter and jolting upright, the stool almost toppling over, he grabs the bowl with such force that has jaemin in the living room popping his head in to check if he's okay. evidently, he's not. jeno scrubs at the dishes with acute fervor in hopes to mask the embarrassment and oncoming wave of doubt that's sure to overcome him if he doesn't preoccupy his mind with other things. jaemin is just about screaming over the sound of the fifty or so dishes that have been left unwashed for weeks on end. "jeno! jeno, what are you doing?!"

the clanking of tableware ceases. jeno reroutes his mind to focus on tapping his toes as fast as he can as he veers in the direction of jaemin's voice, eyes frantic. the kitchen is silent, save for the gush of water from the sink behind him, though his voice is unnecessarily loud and unnaturally high when he speaks, "i'm washing the dishes."

"yes, i can see, but like- why are-"

he's is cut off by the sound of a ping from jeno's phone on the counter. jaemin is reaching over to check the notification for him when jeno's eyes widen even further and he yanks off the pink rubber dishwashing gloves with a resounding snap and dives for his phone before jaemin can even lay a finger on it. bewildered, jaemin gives a simple, "oh," in realization as he draws back.

you're gonna love my gift, jeno. i just know you will <3

and the dishes stay unwashed. at least they got a good rinse.

late, late turns out to be even later than precedented, for you at least, though you're sure that most the boys are still awake at 2:12 in the morning. it isn't christmas anymore but you lack the attentiveness to care in the state that you are in right now, pressing the buzzer just outside their door rather aggressively and panting in equal fashion. you slump into yourself as your mind glosses over the past day and how horridly it had panned out to be. frustration curls and lashes within your actions and you want nothing more than to just drop their gifts off and leave. 

crouching with both arms still planted taut on the bike, your frustrations seems to take on a path of their own, emitting echoing sobs from your being. the tears slide fast onto the floor beneath with nothing to obstruct their merry way. there, they accommodate each other to form a puddle of sorts, one that you stare intently at as it only seems to grow in size with every hiccup of a sob you give.

startled by the opening of the door in front of you, it's as if you've forgotten why you're here in the first place but upon seeing the boy at the door, your best friend who, by the look of it has been up playing games with heavy bags under his eyes, you don't bother to collect yourself or even conceal your tears. 

"y/n, why are you-" he stops, he can't help the laugh that so naturally comes to him. it really is only natural when the sight before him is so dismally absurd. you have indeed come bearing gifts. one of your arms, or the elbow of it, has a giant bag looped around it, the contents of a dozen or so wrapped oblongs threatening to overflow. both hands situated soundly on the giant bike before you, your whole configuration making it slightly difficult to fit comfortably in the narrow hallway. staring up at him, first confoundingly, you mull over the situation at hand yourself and, in the midst of the tears, you start to laugh as well.

you stand, stretching out the joints in your knees as you shove the bag into his arms and then almost run the bike into his balls, shaking your head in amusement and carelessness as he gives a yelp and a jump of surprise. he takes the bag in his arms and moves to let you in, though his eyes never part from you. simply, there is much that he wants to ask but he doesn't until you are safely put upon his bed and he is safely knelt before you, hands in your lap and also clasped in your hold.

"wanna tell me?" jeno's voice is soft, and comes in waves that both surge and surf your emotions. a lopsided and unmeaning smile graces the left corner of your lips, "tell you what, exactly?"

"the bike, for starters," he leaves a pause for you to chuckle, then goes on, "the time, why you were crying in the hallway...should i go on?" you fiddle with his fingers, his own tracing across your knuckles. the smile your expression stretches a little wider and a little more forlorn. "the bike...you said the chain or something broke on yours-"

"i've could just went to go get it fixed, y/n."

"i know, i know but then there was that one day where you were going on about some bike that you wanted to try out and i kinda just committed it to memory and bought it."

"i- i'm- but that was-" he's having difficulty computing the necessary words to encompass his enthrallment, "that was like four months ago."

"yeah and i was going to go pick it up after work today except…" you lick your lips to suppress another laugh. what had you so troubled just a few minutes ago now seems like a distant memory, "except i got fired," jeno's mouth hangs open, "so i went home first to cry and then i got to the shop like three minutes before it closed and then got into an argument with an employee there and then went home to cry again and then fell asleep and then woke up and remembered i had to get it to you before the end of the day but it was already almost two in the morning so i just said, 'fuck it, imma just go and see what happens,' and, well, here i am." you let it all simmer before closing it up, "that pretty much sums it all up for you, huh."

jeno's lips are slow to crease upwards as he processes all the information. he takes his hands from yours, also slowly, and instead places them on either side of your head. you beam down at him, cheeks flaming and lifting into a mirroring, and this time genuine, smile. he gives your head a little shake back and forth, in disbelief and incredulity all at once, "all that on christmas day?"

the way he pampers you never fails to get your heart pumping and adrenaline running tens of thousands of miles per hour. a smile so wide, your teeth even make an appearance, "all that on christmas day."

"well," both his hands are now on both your knees. he looks up at you with pondering eyes and in his room, only lit by the standing lamp in the corner, simply the sight of him is enough to take your breath away. jeno's thumbs run up and down the beginnings of your shins when his lips part with realization and you follow his gaze to the nightstand where, under his phone and a few other discarded items, lies the picture you'd only been able to catch a glimpse of the other day, yesterday. he stares at it for a little before bringing it to your lap to stare at it a little more. then, he turns it over to you, "will it make you feel better if i give you this?"

taking it from him, jeno has no idea how your smile could get any wider, any prettier, but it does. both his hands are back on both your knees, kneading soft circles into the skin. he wishes you weren't wearing a skirt in such cold weather, though either way you look just as mesmerizing to him. the smallest of a chuckle topples past your lips, your pretty lips, and you look from the picture to him with your eyes, your loving eyes. "i mean," you take another glance at it, "how could it not? you were so cute back then."

"you think so?" is what comes out of his mouth but truthfully, jeno has no idea what he's doing when he gets up upon both knees, now just a little under eye level with you. he has no idea what specific thoughts are spurring him on and he has not the slightest inclination of where this sudden courage is coming from. when lee jeno brings your forehead to his own, with a hand to the back of your neck, he is numbed to the mind and sustained solely on the thrum of his gut. driven by intuition, he doesn't render the flaming of your cheeks odd, nor does he take into account the second-long glance you give to his lips, the same lips that brush the bridge of your nose, the apples of your cheeks, the heights of your brow, before meeting your philtrums and then, ever-so-carefully, the pinks of your lips.

jeno is intoxicated by how you seem to move in tune with every string of his pent up desires. he doesn't give a second thought as to why, or even how, it happens; he just knows that it's because it's you, that if anyone else were to kiss him in the same way you were doing now, he'd be missing out on the very feeling that renders him speechless, dumbfounded, bewildered, awestruck, and lovestruck all at once. pulling back just a bit, your fingers graze over the line of his jaw as you mumble a soft, "merry christmas," into his lips. jeno paces himself to ensure he doesn't stumble over his words, "be mine?"

the second kiss answers the question he's been keeping to himself since he was fifteen.

you're awake when he falls asleep, a stupid smile still plastered on that face of his and you would've had enough mind to tease him about it later, were the same smile not on your own face. you're still awake about half an hour later when jeno stirs in his sleep, though instead of moving away from you, he only holds you tighter. however, you're asleep when he awakens a few hours later, a hand coming up to groggily rub at an eye as he reaches out for his phone only to realize that he doesn't need to check his messages. how could you have texted him when you're right there, in his arms?

he only checks his messages in the hour after you leave, and even then in his manager's car on the way to some filming site, jeno blushes, madly.

i forgot to say yes <3

copyright © 2020 rouiyan all rights reserved.

✧ end note — ok i KNOW the fic kinda goes 📉📉 but i only really planned for the first two scenes and was like...now what — and just wrote whatever came to mind afterwards. i hope it's not too disappointing for my first off hiatus fic but whatever mans, i'm over it! anyways, i hope you still enjoyed some parts of it and i'll have you know, i'm very glad to be back. (WILL I STOP IT WITH THE BSF2L FICS? WILL I??), rouiyan.

[dancingthesambaa]

The Smell of Plum Blossom Tea Ch 14

Summary: Just like a butterfly wing, a single act of kindness can change the course of the future, it certainly did for MK as a black furred monkey put out a hand towards him.

Rating: Teen and up

Also as a heads up, since college started back up for me I decided to change my posting to every Thursday night rather than Friday Mornings. There also might be times where I won't be able to post that week or be late due to schooling, so this is an apology in advance!!!

Chapter 14: Memories Intertwined

A clear cut path was set for the public eye as it stood between rows upon rows of Plum Blossom trees and flowers spread all around. There were quite an abundance of people along these paths as families came together for a picnic, couples went for a stroll together as they held hands, or the occasional jogger or artist that ran or drew as they wandered in. Many don’t try to venture off the path, not because of its danger, but rather in fear of getting lost in the woods.

Well except for two people, a human and a Monkey, as they stood on the outskirts of the forest.

“Well this is it, welcome to the Plum Blossom Forest,” MK said as with his arms raised high. “The most awesomest place to be.”

It took a few minutes for Wukong to respond as he took in the beautiful view, but also felt that there was something else rooted in the leaves, along the branches, and deep into the ground within the forest. It wasn’t bad, just something different. Normal trees don't usually have any types of aura on them unless they are spiritual in nature, these aren’t those types of trees. At the same time though it does, he can’t quite put his fingers on it, but it just feels like…like safety. “Yeah, it is.”

“Monkey King?”

“O-oh yeah,” he snapped out of it, “this place looks absolutely amazing.”

“It sure is, now follow me,” MK went into the forest as the Monkey King followed.

“It would probably be faster if I used my cloud instead of going through the forest, you know,” he pointed out.

“Sure, but this is your first time, so you have to experience it on foot at least for your very first experience!” He countered.

“You got me there,” he grinned, “on foot it is. So, tell me more about this place, anything interesting about it besides the abundance of trees?”

“Tons! Like this forest doesn’t just have regular animals, but it also has so many mythical creatures living here!”

“Really? What kind?”

“Well we have a few Qilins that like to roam around here.”

“Qilin, haven’t seen one of those in a hot second,” he muttered.

“They sometimes come and go, but some even make a den here,” MK continued.

The further they went in the clearer it was that MK really knew the forest as he began to excitedly tell all sorts of things to his mentor.

“So the faeries tribe get along with the Xianglu? Now that is something I didn’t think was possible, the faeries are especially a…crafty bunch,” which was Wukong's way of saying manipulative sons of bitches. He got lost in a forest for a month because of those little bastards.

“Not really surprisingly, they both like to collect shiny things so they usually like to show the other what they have found, bargained, and/or stolen,” he shrugged. “And-oh hey BaBa!” He cheerily waved to his long time friend.

Wukong just blinked as he looked at her and just nodded, “Okay, not even gonna ask how or why he managed to get a Bashe here.”

“Dad says that apparently she just came here one day and decided to stay.”

The monkey opened his mouth and promptly closed it instead to bow to her, “It’s nice to meet you.”

BaBa gave a shallow nod to him and laid her giant head back down and curled up in the sun rays.

“Come on! We’re almost there,” he grabbed the Monkey King's hand and dragged him back on track, or at least they tried to get back on track as not even twenty minutes later, MK was ambushed by a couple of macaque monkeys.

“Guys! Guys! I’ll play with you all later,” he tried to push them away, but they held a tight grip on him. “Guys! Why are-don’t you even think about it,” he snatched one by the tail, who was sneakily digging into his pockets and hanged him upside down. “Really?”

They all just grinned at him as the infants attempted once more.

“That’s-okay, no! You can’t just steal from me like that unless you have a distraction in place,” he managed to gather all four of them in his arms and put them down. “A distraction helps a lot, it will steer your target attention away from the pickpocketer and towards something else.”

The monkeys were paying very much attention to his impromptu lecture as they stared wide eyed.

Wukong, on the other hand, was holding back his laugh as he looked on in the scene with fondness and amusement as he was drawn into a familiar memory.

“I can easily steal from those people no problem, why do I have to disguise myself and sneak in?” Wukong groaned out as they made their way to the edge of the market.

“Just because they look weak doesn’t mean they are, haven’t you heard the phrase ‘Don’t judge things on how they look.’” Macaque argued back.

“No.”

“Of course you haven’t,” he rolled his eyes, “well how about this, you distract them, I’ll grab the food from the assholes.”

“Works for me!” He happily threw away his brown cloak and gave a loud screech as he dashed through the market causing a huge commotion when he ran into people.

“I didn’t mean now,” he hissed to himself as he quickly grabbed the fallen cloak, but nonetheless got to work as he stole from the fruit vendor, who cussed them both out yesterday, grabbed a few loaves of bread from the bitch who decided to stomp on Wukong tail, and took a few things here and there from customers who he recognized from other days that always sneered in disgust when they saw him.

He was just about done wrapping up, and with such a nice haul, all that was left now was to sneak around and look for Wukong, quickly tug on his shadow to bail out and make way to the forest.

Unfortunately, it didn’t work out quite like that as not even twenty paces in he heard sounds of a fight occurring as many scruffed up looking people were all going at it at each other, and guess which reckless monkey is in the middle of it all.

“Damn it Wukong,” his eye twitched as he once again contemplated about leaving his reckless ass, but begrudgingly moved his way to the front. The first, and last, time he had tried that, he got side tackled hard by the monkey and he swears the bruises haven’t left him since.

When he reached the point where he was not entirely in the front, but still had a good angle on the fight, he saw that it wasn’t just humans that were drunkenly fighting each other, but also demons…who were wielding weapons.

“Shit!” The monkey shrieked as he dodged a flaming spear to the back of the head.

Weapons that happened to be enchanted…great.

“How does he even get himself into these messes,” Macaque lowly growled as he made sure everyone's attention was focused on the fight before slipping into the shadows, something he has recently been learning when he saw something on the rooftop. There was a figure standing there and in his hands was a bow and arrow that was aimed right towards the fighting monkey.

Now this wouldn’t usually worry him, he has seen him tussle with deities for fun, but then he noticed that the arrow too was also enchanted as he heard a soft crackle and saw a shimmering blue glow as he soon released it.

“Shit!” He quickly, and he will admit a bit recklessly, dived into the shadows and straight in the middle of the brawl.

Good news, he made it to the middle of the brawl and tackled his friend out of the way. Bad news, he currently has an arrow stuck in his right shoulder that hurt worse than the time he got stabbed by the selkie.

“Fuck!” He grunted as he laid on top of Wukong and promptly winced when everyone started screaming at the arrow that came out of nowhere.

“Mac! What do you do that for-your shoulder!” He screeched as he got the monkey off of him and sat him up and saw his shoulder was currently smoking. He didn’t even look back to use his tail to throw the man about to attack them from behind as he was focused on the arrow. “What happened?!”

“We can worry about this later,” he gritted as he tried to stand up, only for his head to feel dizzy and he stumbled.

Wukong quickly grabbed him before he could fall and set him back down. He knew that he had to get the arrow out of him soon, but now was not the best time to do that as he gazed upon the people looming over them. He looked to see his friend trying to stand back up despite his injuries and was fully ready to fight back with him.

It was time to go.

The monkey stopped his black furred companion from moving, “Shall we bail?”

Macaque gave a nod as he grabbed his friend and sank him down into the shadows once more and managed to travel all the way to the outskirts of the fight. They didn’t stop there though as Macaque quickly gave Wukong his cloak back and the two began to make their way through the town, past the entrance, and back into the field with a large tree stood, which is where they agreed to meet up in case things went south, like a lot of times before.

“Well,” the injured monkey grunted as he sat down, “that could have gone a lot worse.”

“You're telling me,” the bruised simian agreed as he began to look over the arrow that was still embedded in his friend's back. “Sit still, I’m about to take this out.”

“Yeahhh, it hurts like hell,” he grumbled as he sat in place as Wukong got the arrow out and only flinched when he began to lick the wound shut. The first time he found out that this was a thing was when he pricked his hand against a thorny bush and the impulsive simian decided to put his finger in his mouth without warning. He had almost chucked the monkey for that. Soon enough it was over as the bleeding stopped and the tongue left his back.

“That should be good, though you were an idiot for getting struck in the first place,” he said.

“Me?! I was only doing that to save your stupid ass,” he indignantly said.

“I would have been fine!”

“Maybe, but I wasn’t about to take that chance with an enchanted weapon,” he shot back.

“That does explain the weird marking, wait there was another one?” He was already interested in that flaming stick that the demon used, but now there was another weapon he didn’t even see…that had struck his friend…he really wants a round two with those fuckers. “Who even were they?”

“Hopefully people we don’t have to meet anytime soon,” Mac grunted as he took the sack that he managed to quickly snag on their way back and grabbed himself a nice looking mango. “Come to papa,” he said and took a big bite.

“Bring it here,” he said and he caught the bag thrown at him and rummaged through it a bit before he found some nice looking loquat.

After that, they filled the two rested up in the tree, and dozed off in a peaceful slumber. Though the same couldn’t be said for a certain group of people as in the middle of the night they were ambushed by a cloaked figure and proceeded to get thoroughly pummeled into unconsciousness, the archer especially as his hands were broken beyond use and his bow shattered. Then the figure slipped off into the night with his hoard of coins and trinket stashed into his pocket and bounded his back to the tree where his friend laid.

No one was allowed to mess with anything that was claimed by the great Monkey King after all.

“Bye! Now use that to mess with everyone else!” He was snapped back to reality as he saw the monkeys leaving and MK waving to them. “But don’t use it on the faeries please, they tend to hold grudges!”

They got screeches of confirmation as they eventually vanished from sight and were ready to commence their new found knowledge amongst the wildlife.

“Alrighty,” his protege clapped his hands, “let’s back on track.”

“I’m just gonna assume that means we’re heading to that big tree over there,” he pointed to the enormous tree they were heading towards.

“Yup! It’s the very first Plum Blossom Tree that was grown here!” He stated as they continued onward, “and it’s where our home is.”

“You guys live in a treehouse,” Monkey King amusedly said.

“Yup!” He exclaimed as he began to climb up the tree and leap towards the house, “race ya there!”

“You're trying to challenge a monkey?” He grinned as he easily began to catch up to him. “You don’t stand a chance!”

“Home Field advantage!”

“Dream on!”

“First!” Wukong cheered as he landed on the wooden porch.

“Damnit!” MK said not even a second after, “you cheated! You pulled me down!”

“All is fair in love and races,” he cockily grins then he stilled as he felt a killer intent behind him. He swiveled around only to stop and see a smiling child behind him. “Hel-”

“MK, it’s about time you got here,” the girl playfully rolled her eyes as she wrapped her arm around him. “It took you long enough.”

“Says the one who was lazing about here waiting for us, speaking of us,” he wiggled out of his sister's arm and pointed to the monkey. “Mei meet the Monkey King!”

It could have just been Wukong, but he swore that her grin seemed to grow a little wider when their eyes met. “It’s nice to meet you Mei,” he tried to play off that weird feeling.

“Same,” she said as she stepped forward and pushed MK towards the kitchen, “it’s your turn to help pops in the kitchen.”

“Why? Can’t you do it?” He whined, he literally just finished walking here.

“I already did my part, now wash those nasty hands of yours,” she fully pushed him out the room.

“But-”

“Bye~”

“Ugh fine!,” he huffed and turned to his mentor, “You can wait in the living room with Mei! I’m pretty sure there are still some plums if you want, we have plenty of those.”

“You're telling me,” Wukong chuckled as he saw his student leave the room, so he turned back to Mei. “So how long have you-” he paused as he saw the pigtailed girl hold up a small piece of paper in front of him with words saying.

I don’t like you

“Umm,” he paused as Mei continued to smile.

“Well let me show you the living room,” she said as she went to the next card.

You may be MK mentor, the great and powerful Monkey King, and Dad old friend, and they may have both forgiven you, but I will not

“Thank you,” he managed to wrangle out as he followed Mei who began to walk forward.

“It’s no problem,” she said as they made it to the living room and held out the last card. “Just promise me to remember where it is next time monkey man.”

I know what happened and I’m keeping an eye on you, cause if you fuck up again then it won’t be pretty

Her eyes glowed a dark green as she stared down with wary golden eyes.

“I promise,” he nodded his head.

She looked at him for a few moments before walking away, passing by a trash can filled with torn up letters, and to the kitchen, but not before calling out, “I do hope you keep that in mind.”

It was only after she had left that Wukong sank down into his seat and breathed. ‘Well that wasn’t frightening at all,’ he sarcastically said to himself as he picked up a plum from the middle of the table and began to eat it. ‘I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but I expected it to be from the awkwardness, not the girl who looked like she would gladly see me twenty feet under.’

He would continue his train of thought, but then he smelled something delicious making his way to him and saw Mac walk towards him with a plate in hand.

“Hope you still like dumplings,” he said as he plopped a huge tray of dumplings, filled with various fillings, in the middle of the table.

“Hell yeah…So you learned how to cook?” He was about to reach for the chopstick but paused and waited until the other monkey sat down first.

“Kinda had to with everything and all,” he didn’t specify as he sat down on a chair adjacent to the couch Wukong was on.

“Do you know how to cook?” Wukong was momentarily surprised at MK's voice as he and Mei were actually following behind the monkey and carrying plates, cups, and a pot.

“In a way yes, thank you,” he nodded his head to Mei as she gave him a wide grin.

“Hair food does not count,” Mac deadpanned.

“Hair food?” Both teenagers looked in confusion.

“He uses his hair to make food.”

“It’s not that bad,” he tried to defend himself.

“It’s fast I’ll admit, but it’s bland as hell,” he stated.

“It’s still not that bad.”

“I’ll take your word for that,” MK said as he sat down next to his mentor and happily began to eat the dumpling.

Wukong, after seeing everyone starting to eat, began to follow suit and his eyes widened as he quickly grabbed another dumpling. “This is delicious!”

“More than your hair food,” the black simian smirk.

Wukong stuffed another dumpling in his mouth in place of answering and drank some Plum tea, only to blink in surprise. “What kind of tea is spicy?”

“Pffft,” Mac couldn’t help himself as he barked out a laugh that was quickly followed by MK giggles.

And that’s how it was for the rest of the lunch, small chatter here and there, mostly from MK as he talked about his week or Wukong in his small questions from ‘What he likes to grow in his garden?’ to ‘How long did he take to build his home?’ It was nothing too invasive, just simple questions here and there and they finished up the plate, though there was a small fight between both humans and the sage monkey over who would get the last beef dumpling. It was a tense match, but it was MK who won in the end after a serious battle of Jan Ken Po.

“Victory tastes so good,” he smirked as he devoured the dumpling.

“I will remember this,” Mei hissed as she messed with her pigtails.

“Maybe it’s time we review the basics again,” Wukong huffed and he slurped down the tea.

“You're just mad that I won.”

“Children all of you,” Mac said as he got his clone to put the plates in the sink.

“You're not wrong,” she said as she leaned back against him.

The simian hands then began to unconsciously undo her messed up pigtails and groom her hair. Both parties didn’t really take note of the change as this was a daily routine for anyone who has known them long enough.

Wukong just eyed the scene with mirth and a small bit of jealousy, that he will forever deny, as he watched his friend groom his child.

“Can I groom your fur,” he was startled by MK’s question.

“Wha-I mean, sure,” he quickly agreed after getting caught off by the question.

He smiled widely as he pushed the great sage Monkey King to the floor and began to gently groom his hair as well. He couldn’t help himself slowly become relaxed as the fingers gently caressed his fur. He has done this multiple times with his tribe, but this feeling will never get old.

“What is up with your fur being so soft?” The boy commented, “Dad’s fur is super soft and now yours? Is there a rule that demon monkey fur has to be soft?”

“Technically not a demon, but that is just the side effect of quality grooming,” he had to stop himself from letting a purr out as the kid continued. “Makes the fur nice and silky.”

He didn’t really pay attention to what his student said next as he closed his eyes and let the soft hands thread through his fur then when he opened his eyes once more it was dark and the hands had stopped.

He took a quick glance around and saw that he must have dozed off during their impromptu grooming session as he saw MK was now leaning against him in deep sleep and Mei curled up like a small cat on the couch with a pillow under her head. Yet there was no Macaque insight, his eyes flashed a bright golden as he scanned the area and saw the familiar outline of violet aura sitting on the railing outside.

So, he carefully dislodged himself from his student grip, laid him down gently with a blanket, and softly padded his way outside the warm home and into the cool night air.

“Could have sworn you were passed out,” Mac said as Wukong sat down next to him.

“What can I say, grooming plus silence equals sleepy time,” he shrugged, kicking his feet as he looked around, “you do have a nice home.”

“Thanks,” he awkwardly answered.

“Must have taken quite some time to build.”

“A few years.”

“Oh,” he said, then an awkward silence filled the air as neither side knew what to do without the kids acting as some sort of buffer between the two. Neither monkeys knew how to go from here despite one inviting the other over, they didn't know where exactly how to start nor, which is both their biggest worry, how it might end. But the inevitable conversation did need to start, so Wukong turned to his friend.

“Look, about the whole fight the other day and me saying you were just trying to use MK, I’m sorry,” he really knew he did a major fuck up then. “You really do care for the both of them and I can tell that they really love you as well.”

“…thanks, I got really lucky having them in my life,” he smiled then he winced, “Sorry about almost killing your friends back then, that was stupid of me.”

“Yeahhh, about that,” he turned his whole body to face him, “that has been nagging me for the longest of times. Why did you attack them?” He surprisingly watched the black furred monkey groan and put his face in his hands.

“It was both parts stupidly and sheer impulsiveness. I came to find you after Guanyin freed you and I heard you screaming and I saw you in pain, I thought you were being tortured,” he quietly replied.

Wukong's eyes were shot wide open as the truth of this finally came to light. This whole time he thought rage towards humans finally erupted in one huge explosion and attacked them, but it wasn’t. That wasn’t it. Macaque attacked them because he thought they were hurting him, he attacked his friends because he thought he was in pain because of them. Everything that happened, from the fight to their long separation was due to a fucking screwed-up misunderstanding!

“Oh,” yet he didn’t know how to voice any of that out, which is ironic considering he is known for being a loudmouth after his impulsiveness.

“I am sorry,” he reiterated as he barely got a reaction out of his friend. “I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions, but I just heard screams and I saw you lying there, that I couldn’t stop myself from listening to the voices,” he admitted. Wukong is one of the few people he has ever told about the voices that like to whisper in his ears all their malicious intent and their cruel lust.

“…we both are truly hot messes huh,” he finally said as he looked back to the moon and gave him a small nudge. “Just look at the two of us, you somehow became the recluse medicine man that lives in the forest alone, but still somehow ends up with two kids, and me, who lives up in the tallest of mountains and became the Great Sage Equal to Heaven.”

“You forgot to add reckless idiot, somewhere there,” Mac lightly jokes.

“Heh yeah…I forgive you,” he quietly stated.

Macaque whipped his head to him, “Just like that? I almost killed you and your friends back then and that whole fight, and the words-” they both winced at the reminder of those damned words they spoke to the other. “What I did was horrible.”

“And we fought and I made you fucking blind!” He hissed out as he tried to see past the glamor in place to look at his hazy eye.

“I’m pretty sure I left you with a few scars yourself,” he shot back.

“A few scars are nothing compared to being blind!”

“That is just one injury compared to the multitude!”

“It doesn’t work like that, you are literally a physician?!” He threw his hands up.

“And I do declare myself completely capable despite my disability!” He barked back.

“I never said you weren’t capable, I know better than to underestimate you. Remember back with the fire spirits.”

“Which ones?”

“The arrogant bastard ones.”

“Which ones? There are numerous of them,” he deadpanned.

“The ones centered by the river, you know the spirits who thought they were powerful enough-”

“To take on the deity that commanded that puddle of water,” he said with him and continued. “I still can’t believe that those words came out of his mouth,” he snorted.

“And after we kicked their asses,” Wukong reminded him with a wide grin, “remember the look on their faces when the river goddess heard what they said.”

“I have never seen a fire spirit look like they want to piss themselves that fast before,” he barked out his laughter.

“Right!”

The two shared a laugh at the memory of the deity whooping their asses once more as the arrogant spirits either ran away screaming or died beneath her thundering waves. Both of them were completely safe as they watched the entire thing from on top of a tree and made bets over which idiots would survive. Their laughter eventually died down as the night silence took over once more, but it wasn’t the awkward silence that greeted them but a kindling of familiar comfort they shared before.

“We really are idiots,” the medicine monkey faintly commented.

“Glad to hear you finally admit it,” the sage monkey replied then he paused as he thought for a moment, but pushed forward. “After our many years of friendship, I would have never thought I would ever hear the day.”

Mac's eyes widened at his admission, “Friends?”

“Yep,” he boldly looked him in the eyes, “I mean I have spent centuries with you, so I think we are way past that level you know.”

“Despite not seeing each other in between those centuries,” the simian retorted.

“Well friends do have stupid fights with each other sometimes, it’s just not specifically for mortals you know,” the monkey slightly grinned.

“You're not wrong,” he swung his feet, “do…do you want to start over? Maybe try anew?” Thinking that maybe they couldn’t go back to how things were before, how the easy smiles and laughter that they used to share between the two of them and thoroughly dissipated. That maybe, if they begin right here and right now, there can be some resemblance of that bond that was once shattered.

Wukong let that answer sink in and ponder it only for a few moments before shuddering. “I…no I really don’t,” he said with a surprising harshness in his tone. “You were the one person who has known me longer than anyone other than the ones that still reside on the mountain, you are the only one who knows me the best out of anyone, and call me selfish, but I don’t want to start over with the only person who knew me from the inside out and still give a damn about me.” He can’t even imagine just throwing away all those years that he spent with moonshine, it would be easier if they ripped his head out instead, at least then the pain won’t be so bad. “So how about we both agree we made and did stupid ass decisions and continue on, cause if I’m being honest here, I really missed your grooming,” he teased.

“You just want me for my hands,” he couldn’t help but say.

“You do have very lovely hands,” he didn’t deny.

Macaque snorted before nodding, “Yeah, I like that peaches.”

“It’s been a while, mango,” Wukong grinned as he took in his friend form once more. He really had changed a lot since the last time he saw him, who he was is still the same, but he has opened up his soul a little wider and has beautifully flourished. Just how, well he just has to see more for himself. But not just his soul, but his whole outer appearance and he’s not talking about his ‘feminine’ clothing, both of them aren’t ones who care for gender roles or whatever the humans have decided their identity is based around. Rather his long fur that is swaying gently in the breeze under the moonlight night.

He couldn’t stop himself from taking glances at that fur each time he looked at the black furred simian. From just the sheer size to the fluffiness, as his student had proclaimed (though he can’t help but agree) he really just wants to thread his fingers through his fur. Maybe it’s just the absence of not grooming his friend fur in a long ass time, but he wants to remember how soft his fur is, to gently smooth out any tangles, to let him sit in between his legs as Mac sinks into his ministration and purr once more, to hold him as long as he can as they gently relax in each other arms to have his hands move down from his gorgeous fur and to his beautiful face and tilt his head up so that his golden eyes meet his own and ben his head down to meet-…oh.

And it was at this moment as he stared at Liu Er face did the thought occur to him as their tails unconsciously had entwined for the first time in over five hundred years and sat together beneath the stars.

‘I still love him,’ he faintly thought and his own heart pounded in confirmation. Not even when they have been separated for five hundred years did he stop loving his moonlight. ‘I really won’t stop loving him…and for some reason, I don’t mind.’

But instead of saying anything, he instead put his face on top of Macque's head and playfully nuzzled him. He can see his moon fondly rolling his eyes at his antics, but lean in as he feels his smaller friend rest his head on his shoulder.

‘This is enough,’ both simians privately thought as they cuddled close together.

Though they weren’t quite alone as two pairs of eyes were trained on them from the living room and they haven’t moved an inch since they heard Monkey King walk outside for the first time.

Mei and MK looked at each other in complete shock as they took in the scene. The surprise wasn’t from their conversation nor from the harmonious aura that surrounded them, but rather from the black and brown tails that were intertwined with each other. Now they may not know how romantic love feels and looks except from t.v, movies, couples strolling, and the scarce amount of times Mei parents come around, but they can tell there is something definitely there as it was hanging around the two monkeys and seeing them like this, it clicked.

‘Holy shit, Monkey King is the old flame!’ MK exclaimed with his eyes as he looked toward Mei.

‘It would seem so,’ her eyes flickered.

‘And he likes Dad back!’ His eyes widened.

‘Indeed he does,’ she narrowed her viridian eyes.

‘What do we do?’ He blinked three times as he was happy that they reconciled, but was unsure of what’s to come.

‘Watch for now and see what happens,’ she breathed as they both turned to look at the two silent monkeys basking together in the night.

Slow burn? Slow Burn?! They have been slow burning for countless centuries that even the polar bears are starting to feel the heat

HAHAHAHA I’m turning up the fucking heat for these damn monkeys

[script-nef]

The Day | Kageyama Tobio

Category: fluff

2.4k words; 22/12/1996: A star is born

This is so late ;^; sorry baby AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!

His hand reaches for his phone before it has a chance to belt out its usual alarm song, the one Kageyama hates so much. It’s overly rambunctious, uses way too many unnecessary instruments and the lyrics means nothing. Therefore making it quite perfect as an alarm. 

A notification with your name greets him and a smile crawls up his face automatically. A tap reveals messages written in all caps with an abundance of gifs. Wiggling further into his blanket to retain heat against the winter air, he slowly reads through your texts and a soft warmth blooms from inside his chest.

The timestamp shows that you sent it at exactly midnight. He can see you on your phone, staring at the time until the second it became the 22nd. It was in the morning for you, he remembers, and you said you have an important meeting today. He wonders if it’s going well, since you stressed a lot about it, moaning “What if he doesn’t like it…” or “What if something goes wrong…” He tried his best to cheer you up but being halfway around the world makes it sort of difficult. 

Starting off the day with your enthusiastic and endearing congratulations makes his birthday one of the most special days to him. 

Kageyama's birthday didn't really mean anything before you came. It was the day he was born, sure, but that's more of his mother's effort than him. He appreciated gifts once he started getting them and the messages as well. But it was you who made him realise that it is a day to be celebrated. 

"You don't know why people celebrate birthdays?" You asked him that after his first birthday party with all of his friends and acquaintances. Despite a lot of people thinking he's tactless, Kageyama does understand gratitude and when to keep quiet. Or at least he's getting better at it. That's why he waited until everyone had left, leaving only you and him in his apartment. 

"It's just another day." A weak argument, he knew, but that's just what he felt. It's one day out of 365 per year.

Your lips pursed and a sudden panic washed over him, dousing him with the sudden realisation of what he said. You and everyone else spent time and effort to pull this up for him, and he's basically just said that it makes no difference to him. Kageyama can hear phantom squeaks as the vice around his heart clamped down hard, and he probably deserved it. Definitely deserved it.

Scratch his thinking of mastery over tact, he hadn't even gone over the first small hill.

You stood there, silent, and his fingers twitched in an impulse to gather your hands in his and apologise until he ran out of breath or things to say. Even that wasn't enough. Kageyama's mind raced to find words to explain his thoughts, to explain how appreciative he was of this party and how sorry he was for even saying that. Even thinking that.

But you beat him to the punch, stepping in front of him and leaning forward until your head dropped lightly against his chest. His hand immediately found your waist to stabilise you but the rest of his body was something akin to a statue, rock-solid and not even breathing. 

He braced himself for the anger and lecture you were going to give. He most definitely deserved it, being so ungrateful and dismissive of your efforts. You could scream at him until you lost your voice and hit him as much as you wanted to and he wouldn't be able to say anything. You've never gotten angry or even raised your voice at him, but this was looking like the perfect opportunity for the first time.

Leave it to me to mess up my relationship on my birthday.

"Well, it is just another day." You mumbled, rubbing your forehead against his chest. That was not what he expected to come out of your mouth. “One out of 365, sometimes 366. But it’s so much more than that, to me at least.” You peered up at him, lips curled into a soft smile and he had to resist the urge to lean down. 

“To others, it might mean nothing. Just the winter solstice. Or maybe an anniversary. Or the day a loved one passed away. Or the day they met their partner.” You stood on your tiptoes, even with him leaning down, head knocking gently against his. “But to me, it’s the day someone I love the most in my life came into the world.”

Soft puffs of breath were exhaled against his lips every time you spoke, your gentle voice kind and loving, so much so that he thought he could melt there and then. 

“On this day, 20 years ago, a wonderful person was born. The best person I know. You were born to be loved, to love, to carve out your own path in life—and you did that, Mr Youngest-National-Team-Member! Look at where you are! You held onto your lifelong ambition of a volleyball player that started when you were just a little toddler, munching away on a volleyball with your barely-grown teeth. I have photos.” He blushed, regretting the day he showed you his childhood photo album. You laughed delightedly, and it was like bell chimes in his ear.  “And now you sit at the top of the world, with everyone in awe of your strength and passion. You receive love and adoration all over the world for your accomplishments, for who you are, and I could not be more proud of you. And it’s all thanks to this day. To the one in a trillion chance that the universe decided to create you. “I know your birthdays never quite meant anything to you, and that’s okay. Just let us, all of your friends and families, show how much you mean to us. How much you mean to me. I love you so much, and I love this day because it’s the day the greatest gift in my life was created. That’s why I celebrate it. That’s why we all celebrate it.”

You finished off your speech with a boop on his nose, giggling at his starstruck face. “So happy birthday, Kageyama Tobio, wonderboy and a gift to humanity.”

He mulled over your words, digesting each and every one of them. And every single one of them was nothing but the complete truth from you, echoing from the bottom of your heart and overflowing with love. A soft and grateful smile slowly formed as he closed the distance between his lips and yours, a sensation similar to melting taking over his entire body as he drowned in this perfect moment.

All of his teammates wish him a happy birthday, which he replies with a soft “Thank you” before turning to practice. Some of them asked if he would take the day off, seeing as it’s his birthday after all. He could go out, enjoy the sights, eat some new food or try whatever catches his fancy. But he politely declined, saying there wasn’t much to do anyway. Mostly because you’re not by his side.

It’s a shame you’re not here, but he can’t do much about it. Neither can you. He’s currently halfway across the world and you have a work-life as well. You can’t just drop everything and fly for hours and hours just for him, no matter how bad he misses you. Kageyama is filled with jealousy and selfishness when it comes to you, but he doesn’t want to make you suffer for it. No, he’ll just have to make do with the loving, adorable messages you sent him and hopefully a call as soon as you’re available.

You fretted over the disappointment of not being present on his birthday for the first time since you started dating him, even when he said it was okay. It wasn’t really okay, because he wanted to spend the whole day with you, preferably lazing around on the bed with you tucked into his embrace, enjoying each other’s company with no one else. 

“Did she wish you a happy birthday?” Hoshiumi pops up next to him and Kageyama nearly yelps in surprise. He was too deep in his thoughts and didn’t realise his surroundings. Instead, he quickly calms his heart and nods, showing him the multiple messages you sent him. Hoshiumi’s eyes skim over them and laughs, “Your girlfriend is cute!” and Kageyama can’t help but nod in earnest. You’re probably the cutest thing the world has the fortune of having. His teammates face crinkles and he realises he said it aloud. It doesn’t matter because it’s the truth. Hoshiumi’s face scrunches further. 

Training is finished by lunch to let all of them have half a day off, even though most of them will just stay in the hotel. A plan forms in Kageyama’s head: to crawl back into his soft bed to video call you as soon as he can. He never experienced back-to-back meetings for hours but they sound like hell. Hopefully you can destress while talking to him and he’ll have something so keep him happy for the rest of the day. It’s a brilliant plan.

Which everyone promptly ruins by following him to his room. 

He looks back at them, questions marks forming over his head as his shifting eyes silently ask “Can I help you?” and Hirugami answers with a smile indicating “Nope, go into your room. We’re not being suspicious at all.” Or something along those lines. Kageyama thinks he’s gotten better at reading facial expressions and social cues. He wonders if you would be proud of him.

A quick key swipe unlocks his door and pitch-black welcomes him. Which is weird since he left the curtains open when he left for training. The team shuffles in behind him and he then realises that they planned this, something like a surprise party. They did it for everyone else when it was their birthday. Do I… have to play along? He probably has to, since everyone went to the trouble of doing this. 

The lights flicker on and Kageyama’s brows quirk at the sight. He expected the decorations and banners with balloons since that’s what happened at everyone else, but what he didn’t expect are the mountains of presents everywhere. Some of them reach to the ceilings and he can see at least 5 piles, all covered in various either Christmas or birthday wrappings. 

He turns back to the team just in time for confetti and strings to fly into his face with an ensemble of pops and screams of “Happy birthday!!” A laugh escapes him and he feels joy bubbling through his insides. 

“They’re all sent from your fans!” Nicholas indicates to the piles. “We had to sneak them in. So hard since there’s so many! Deve ser bom ser famoso.” Kageyama’s hands skim over some of them, overwhelmed by the amount and the thoughts. Everyone pats him on the head or gives him a slap on the back, teasing him about how nice it must be to receive so much. And it is. He’s so grateful for every single one of them, but the biggest thought in his head is how much better it would be if you’re here, by his side. He wants to run over to his laptop and connect to you, to show you the spectacle before him. He wants to open every single one of them with you.

“Ah, the cake is coming! Kageyama, cake, cake!” But maybe later, after he’s spent time with his teammates. You always said to show gratitude. Hoshumi drags him to the centre of the room while everyone stands behind. 

Before he can ask what they’re doing, a small voice singing the birthday song travels down the hallway. Kageyama freezes instantly because he recognises the voice, and everyone else snickers at his reaction. His eyes fly over everyone, who just responds by either winking or smiling. A weird sensation takes over his body, like his heart is thudding in his mouth or somewhere in his throat, as the voice grows closer and closer. 

A flicker of flame appears first past the doorway, followed by the cake. Your face pops in, smiling joyfully, and Kageyama swears his heart stops. His hands tremble by his side, lips quivering in disbelief and ecstasy because you’re here. In front of him. 

“Happy birthday to you~” You stop in front of him, cake in your arms and nothing but adoration in your eyes. The team claps and cheers behind him, but he can barely hear them. All of his senses focus on you, standing less than a metre away from him after weeks of being apart. 

He wants to hug you, crush you in his embrace and bury himself in your body, in your scent and your love. He wants to shower you with kisses and spill out his heart in the form of words, cover you with them until you fall from embarrassment. He wants this moment to be just you and him, away from everything in the world like his first birthday party. 

But he just stands there, unable to do any of them, feeling his chest swell and his eyes sting. The outlines of his sight turn hazy and your exclamation of surprise isn’t enough to break him out of his stupor. 

Your arms wrap around him, cake gone somewhere, and he nearly crumbles right then and there. A combination of his friends’ shouts of “Don’t cry!” and you faint giggles makes him laugh as well. 

Kageyama thinks he must be a mess; rivulets of tears are flowing down his cheeks, ears red with embarrassment and small hiccups are the only things that come out of his mouth, rather than confessions of love and repetitions of thank you after you travelled all this way for him. 

But he opens his eyes when you delicately wipe away all his tears, and he’s greeted with nothing but gentle fondness shining on your face, like you’re cherishing this moment to keep for the rest of your life. You grace him with another smile, leaning up to press a soft kiss onto his lips.

“Happy birthday, baby. The whole world is sending their love to you.”

[bigfan-fanfic]

If you write for him, could I get some headcanons for General Zod with his s/o? thanks c:

Ooooh! Okay!

So, I really like the idea of Jor-El as a flawed person, and Zod as more of an anti-hero than megalomaniacal villain. I think that brings some interesting nuance to Superman's character if he learns his Kryptonian father maybe isn't the paragon he assumed he was and instead he learns to take solace in the fact that he was raised by a good man and he is not his father. That he can choose to be a good person as opposed to inheriting it. (See under the cut for my ideas about Zod's story)

So, only Zod's lover is allowed to even learn his true name, Dru-Zod. (Kryptonian military are only referred to by rank and house name, to dehumanize (de-Kryptonian-ize?) them and drill into them they exist only to serve their house and society. He craves his name being spoken with love and it's a great way to see him blush.

He's fascinated by Earth's culture and technology, even as rudimentary as it seems from a Kryptonian perspective. He loves movies and games, and he seems to feel emotion more strongly, crying and laughing with more enthusiasm than someone used to these things.

He often feels lost - with his powers granting him invulnerability and super speed, he needs not fear anything and he can finish any necessary task in seconds, which makes him wonder what to do with an abundance of free time. He needs help unlearning the mentality of an expendable drone and to discover himself. Still, there's gonna be a lot of him following his love around like a lost puppy.

His newfound powers make him eager for physical touch. His love language is going to be in physical touch, in hugs, and kisses and gentle stroking of hands and hair and arms, in nuzzling and holding. He barely talks at all unless it's important or he's with his lover.

He's ginormous and often prefers loose or skimpy clothing - he has no need to dress for cold weather, and he enjoys the powerful feeling of the sun giving him life and energy. Frequently shirtless or in a drop-sleeve tank top.

So since I have no idea how Kryptonian society works, I made my own version, and you can ask me all you like about how I think that works). I decided that the Kryptonians' society is ruled by its scientific/religious body (under the genderless god Rao, whom the Kryptonians believe reveals the secrets of the universe to them through scientific experimentation), which Jor-El is a leading member of and helps to control nearly every aspect of Kryptonian life, from whom people can mate with to what life path they're on. A very totalitarian society, with a scientific priesthood that holds all the power and the others forced to bow to their laws and rulings. And Zod, rising to the head of Krypton's military, resents the control the people leading from the back line have and their disregard for their lives, since Kryptonians value intellect over physicality and thus consider the military class expendable. And then Zod gets wind of the movements of a Coluan conqueror, but when he brings this to the attention of the priesthood/ruling council, their only response is to start safeguarding themselves. (I've been tossing around the idea that Zod's son became a member of the scientific body and was murdered by Jor-El for trying to tell the public of the impending invasion).

So Zod leads a rebellion that goes very poorly indeed, despite the military initially causing heavy casualties among civilians and the scientific priesthood elite. Zod is cast into the Phantom Zone along with the other military leaders, and nobody but Jor-El (and his brother Zor-El) still believe in Zod's warnings.

Also, I see Krypton in general as being very Kryptonian-supremacist. They're a society of colonizers and conquerors under the guise of "bringing Rao's wisdom and knowledge to lesser beings." Non-Kryptonians are little more than slaves or pets to them, and they feel these lesser beings should be grateful to them for getting to benefit from Rao's teachings. MAYBE Zor-El is one of the good ones and he and Alura tried to teach Kara better, but Argo City is extremely xenophobic, not even letting in Kara and Clark because they've been "tainted" by contact with lesser beings. They view Kara as a traitor and don't even consider Clark Kryptonian.

Eventually Zod gets free of the Phantom Zone and realizes Krypton has been destroyed. His initial instinct upon seeing Clark, almost the spitting image of Jor-El, is that he's part of a Kryptonian colonization force and sets out to stop him (once he and his companions figure out their powers). But eventually Zod begins to understand that Clark is pretty much human in mindset and he definitely tries to apologize. And Clark realizes that his father's warnings about Zod were wrong. Clark is horrified to learn about what Krypton really was like - it hurts him deeply, but Zod is there to tell him of the secrets lurking beneath the shining towers and bridges where Jor-El never left. The illegal festivals on the planet's surface, the ways citizens would circumvent the enforced couplings by the eugenic determination of the scientific priesthood, the loves and friendships and the subtle camaraderie in rebellion.

So Zod ends up settling down on Earth instead, where else but in Smallville, Kansas. He works as a simple farmhand for a while on the Kent Homestead, breaking bread with Ma and Pa Kent until either Clark asks him to assist with the League or he is called to defend Earth.

[nestasgalpal]

Walk me through it [Nessian fic]

Fixing ACOSF part 5

Masterlist | AO3

Summary: Cassian accompanies Nesta to the cottage in the Mortal Lands where she and her sisters used to live, so she can get closure.

Tagging:  @gwynriel​ @rhaenystargaryn​ @clolikescloquetas​ @amelievrstr​ @t8astr8ng @wanderlustlastsforever @saltydreamcollector​ @lordlorcan​ @esrahiba​ @queenestarcheron​ @ko0mbayamylord​  @jemstan300​ @nessiantrashh​ @mothergwyn @poisonus-bloom  @loveadora  @frosted-crackers​  @mireillemystique​ @pataytayo​ @968sunflower968​ @caram267​ @jainadurron​ @darkshadowqueensrule​ @amphiptree​ @finae-bookshelf​ @niytavia​ @brainlessfruit​ @dontgetsalmonella​ @messyhairday-me​ @sunsummoner​  @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens​ @wannawriteyouabook​ @psychoticminx​ @misswonderflower​​

N/A: Sorry I erased the comment about Feyre painting the cabin in Illyria but I didn’t get what that had to do with anything lol.

Nesta’s heart thundered as she laid a hand against the cold wooden door. Claw marks still gouged it.

“Tamlin’s handiwork, I take it?” Cassian asked behind her.

Nesta shrugged, unable to find the words. She and Elain had rehung the door after Tamlin had broken it. Their father, his leg wrecked beyond repair and unable to bear weight, had watched them, offering unhelpful advice.

Her fingers curled into a fist and she shouldered the door open. Its rusted hinges objected, creaking, and a dusty, half-rotten scent swarmed her nose. Her cheeks heated. For Cassian to be here, to see this—

“Just a brute, remember?” He stepped to her side. “I’ve lived in far worse. At least you had walls and a roof.”

Nesta hadn’t realized how much she needed to hear those words, and her shoulders loosened as she stepped into the cottage proper. In the chill dimness, broken only by rays of sunlight, she frowned at the ceiling. “This house used to have a roof.” The damage had let in all manner of creatures and weather—the former had made themselves comfortable, judging by the nests and various scattered droppings.

Nesta’s mouth turned dry. This horrible, awful, dark place.

She couldn’t stop her shaking.

Cassian laid a hand on her shoulder. “Walk me through it.”

She couldn’t. Couldn’t find the words.

He pointed to a long worktable. One leg had collapsed, and the whole thing lay at a slant. “You ate here?”

She nodded. They’d eaten here, some meals in silence, some with her and Elain trying to fill the quiet with their idle chatter, some with her and Feyre at each other’s throats. Like those last meals they’d had with her in this house.

Nesta’s stare drifted to the paint flaking off the walls. The intricate little designs. Cassian followed her stare. “Did Feyre paint that?”

Nesta swallowed, and managed to get out, “She painted every chance she got. Any extra coin she managed to save went toward paints.”

Except for that one time she saved enough to get flower seeds for Elain.

Her two sisters had somehow found a way of keeping themselves entertained. Feyre spend every minute she could out of the house. She had to go hunting for food, but even in the summer and the spring, when they had plenty, she made excuses to be away from them. Isaac Hale had been there to help her get distracted, but Nesta knew Feyre didn’t find time for him just for the sex. Feyre had wanted to be far from them, sitting in the meadows, practicing knots or whatever she did when she went away.

She only stayed in the cabin when she had paint. She had found happiness in that —and so had Elain in her little garden.

As much happiness as they could, in a place like this.

But Nesta never did. She had never wanted to.

She had barely wanted to survive.

As if he had felt the air around her shift, Cassian took a step closer, his chest close enough to her back that Nesta could feel the heat he irradiated in the bare skin of her nape. He was there for her, to be a pillar she could lean against if she needed to —to support her.

A calloused hand brushed against hers, the touch so soft and careful, Nesta almost didn’t feel it. He gave her hand a tug, but Nesta didn’t take it. Not yet. Only when she really needed his touch to bear what they were doing in this place, she would take his hand. She would try to do this on her own first.

Cassian aimed for the bedroom. Nesta followed him, and gods, it was so cramped and dark and smelly. The bed was still covered with its stained linens. The three of them had slept here for years.

Cassian ran a hand over the painted dresser, marveling. “Feyre really did paint stars for herself before she knew Rhys was her mate. Before she knew he existed.” His fingers traced the twining vines of flowers on the second drawer. “Elain’s drawer.” They drifted lower, curling over a lick of flame. “And yours.”

Nesta managed a grunt of confirmation, her chest tight to the point of pain. There in the corner sat a pair of worn, half-rotted shoes. Her shoes. One of them was bursting at the toe’s seam. She’d worn those shoes —in public. Could still remember mud and stones creeping in.

She had asked for new ones, and that had leaded them into an argument too. Feyre didn’t understand the shame Nesta felt when she walked around wearing that in her feet —as far as she knew, Feyre didn’t even remember what their life used to be like before that village; she had known nothing else. But Nesta had, and even while they starved, she still refused to let go of the life she had once enjoyed. The silks, the pearls, the luxuries she had been surrounded by when growing up. She hadn't been raised but rather crafted by her mother and tutors to belong in palaces and great halls. No, she had been forged to thrive among dozens of other rich heiresses who shared her same goal. She had become that. And then, her world crumpled down to become this.

There were wholes in the lower parts of the rotten wood panels big enough for a small rodent to get inside the house that hadn't been there while her family inhabited the space. Nesta felt sick in her stomach, just as she had when she came inside the cabin for the first time and realized it was likely to be the place where she died. No castle and no prince awaited in her future.

She had never found a way to explain to Feyre what it was like for her. Nesta was quick with words, fast coming up with the perfect answer to make everyone wary of her, make them stay away. But when it came to opening up and risking showing vulnerability, she realized, she had never learned how to do it.

She could only hide. She could only hurt.

And Feyre never made it easy either. It was so hard for Nesta to talk to her —to anyone, but specially to her little sister. Whenever they clashed against each other, she felt judged by someone who didn't even know her. Every time, Nesta let pride win and burn bridges between them, instead of trying to explain herself to a person who wouldn't even wait and listen before she decided Nesta was too much of a brat to deserve the benefit of the doubt. Feyre never considered that there might have been a reason for her to feel and act the way she did, even if it was not the right path. Because Feyre couldn't come up with any, and fooled by her own pride, thinking herself smarter because she was able to function and Nesta was not, she concluded that there wasn't a reason in the world for Nesta to just let time consume her instead of stepping in.

She hated that, and resented Feyre for years. Because they were the same. Two side of the same coin battling to stay on top once it fell to the ground. For years, Nesta felt like the only way to win, was to make sure Feyre lost.

Every day, it grew bigger —her resentment towards her. For being able to overcome difficulties she could not. Towards their father, who saw his daughters fight one another and starve and didn't get up from his chair once to try... anything. And resentment towards herself. She got carried away by it, every emotion she felt mixing together and forming a ball of anger in her guts that burned so violently that Nesta could no longer tell what was going on.

She saw red all the time, and burned with it. Burned anyone that dared come close.

Lost in her memories of how fighting had been more abundant than food, Nesta almost forgot Cassian was there too. Her eyes had gotten caught up on the torn shoes. They were such a perfect example of how her life used to be —how they had so little, that every single thing could become the reason for a night's worth of arguing... Nesta told him the story.

"Deep down I knew that saving the money was more important, that those boots could last a few more weeks. That would give Feyre time to get more money. But I pushed the logic down and picked the fight regardless" She had hated that those shoes had been a working pair to their new family standards when not so long ago only the finest leather slippers touched her feet.

Nesta looked around the room, to the bed she and her sisters had shared. “That bed in there … I was born in that bed. My mother died in that bed.”

Her mother’s death. She remembered that as well. Too vividly still.

"My father refused to send men into fae territory looking for a cure for her". And just like him, Nesta had refused to help when they lived in the cottage. Had refused to do what she thought was a servant’s work, thinking that death was better than the shame of loosing her status. "I hated him for that."

She had been so mad at him for not even trying, that she thought she ought to do the same thing. If their father didn’t do anything, she would do even less. To her, Feyre had been only collateral damage. She was willing to sacrifice her little sister’s safety for her own. That’s what she had seen others do with her before. It had been so wrong —but Nesta hadn’t realized it until it was too late for all of them.

She hated her younger self, now that there was nothing for her to do. Now that her sisters no longer needed her to step in.

She hated that she had been so wrong, so blind.

She hated that she failed at being smarter than the adults in her life.

She hated how much time and effort she had put into hating her father and not caring about Feyre only for them to be the ones saving her in the end. How was she supposed to find peace, when she had spend years being consumed by the anger his passivity ignited in her, only for him to finally be there to help when she needed him the most? How did everyone expect her to be able to deal with that when she had failed miserably at simpler tasks?

Nesta wanted to forgive her father. To forgive him and be hugged by him. Nesta wanted to finally have by her side the father she had so desperately needed her entire life.

But when he came to her and proved that his love was true and knew no limits —that he only needed a second chance, he was killed before her eyes. How could she forgive him now, when he had died before she got a chance to let him know that she understood. That she had done the same thing to others, and she understood. She knew. And she was willing to give him the second chance he wanted to do everything again, but this time right.

Her heart thundered, and she walked out of the room, back into the main space. She didn’t mean to, but she looked toward the dark fireplace. Toward the mantel.

Her father’s wood figurines lay atop it, thickly coated with dust and cobwebs. Some had been knocked over, presumably by whatever creatures now lived here.

That familiar roaring filled her ears, and Nesta’s steps thudded too loudly on the dusty floorboards as she approached the fireplace. A carving of a rearing bear —no bigger than her fist —sat in the center. Nesta’s fingers shook as she picked it up and blew off the dust.

“He had some skill,” Cassian said quietly.

“Not enough,” Nesta said, setting the bear back onto the stone mantel. She was going to vomit.

No. She could master this. Master herself. And face what lay before her. Only then she would be able to face what she had left behind —her past.

She inhaled through her nose. Exhaled through her mouth. Counted the breaths.

Cassian stood beside her through all of it. Not speaking, not touching. Just there, should she need him. Her friend —whom she’d asked to come here with her not because he was sharing her bed, but because she wanted him here. His steadiness and kindness and understanding.

She plucked another figurine from the mantel: a rose carved from a dark sort of wood. She held it in her palm, its solid weight surprising, and traced a finger over one of the petals. “He made this one for Elain. Since it was winter and she missed the flowers.”

“Did he ever make any for you?”

“He knew better than to do that.” She inhaled a shuddering breath, held it, released it. Let her mind calm. “I think he would have, if I’d given him the smallest bit of encouragement, but … I never did. I was too angry.”

She finally voiced it —Why she had behaved like that for so many years. Cassian probably knew already, but she had needed to let it out. She had been angry. She had felt abandoned. She didn’t know what to do to keep floating against the current like her sisters did with her hobbies and new-found friends in the village.

Nesta only felt anger at everyone and everything.

“You’d had your life overturned. You were allowed to be angry.”

“That’s not what you told me the first time we met.” She pivoted to find him arching a brow. She could go back and picture that day. He was a giant in her hall, tall even among the rest of the fae Feyre had brought with her. A dormant part of her human conscience, an instinct, reminded her how dangerous his kind was. But she had never felt intimidated. Not by him. Not really.

Just a worthy opponent.

“You told me I was a piece of shit for letting my younger sister go into the woods to hunt while I did nothing.”

“I didn’t say it like that.”

“Yes, you did.”

Cassian’s gaze pierced through her. She squared her shoulders, turning to the small, broken cot in the shadows beyond the fireplace, thinking he wouldn’t reply.

“Can I still take that back?” Cassian was halted where she left him. The space was not big enough for them to be far from each other, but it certainly felt like it. A chill breeze came through a chink in the wall behind her, fluttering the bottom of her cloak and finding there the bare skin of her ankles.

Would you forgive me? He was asking. Or maybe not. Maybe he simply wanted her to pretend his words had never left his lips. Can we pretend it didn’t happen?  She only had to turn around and face his burning gaze to know, but she didn’t.

Yes, Nesta wanted to tell him. Please, go back and never open my eyes to make me see what I did to my sister. Don’t let the truth of my actions ever get to me.

Nesta had always been aware of everything surrounding her, always known who she could trust, who was a tool for her to use, what buttons to push to get what she wanted from others.

She had always known, she had always seen.

Now, standing in the space where she spent some of the worst years of her life, a period of time full of hunger, cold, screaming and resentment that still hunted her, Nesta would beg on her knees for a chance to be oblivious for the first time in her life —To not see. To not feel.

“Why would you want to?”  She asked instead.

Cassian didn’t come closer. Nesta wasn’t sure if she wanted to know. Standing here, in this ramshackle space where she still had to control her breath so she didn’t break down and become a crying mess, Nesta didn’t know if she was actually ready to discuss that.

To come back to face her ghosts was hard enough.

Nesta found a spot in the half rotted wood wall in front of her and locked her eyes there, not blinking, holding the tears that wanted to form in her eyes. She wasn’t ready to remember what had happened shortly after Cassian came into her house asking for her help. Her life was already almost too much for her to handle before Tamlin took Feyre, and that’s what they were trying to get closure for today. Not what had happened next, when the Inner Circle of the Night Court entered her life.

The thought threatened to make her breath erratic again, but Nesta remembered the exercices Gwyn had found for them and kept it under control. She mastered it and reminded herself why were here. Nesta forced herself to breath. Her lungs didn’t cooperate. Her mouth dry. She inhaled slowly and then exhaled the cold air. Once. Twice.

“Because I feel like that first meeting shaped everything else after, and I don't like what it did with it."

"It did nothing." It hadn't been that first encounter what had led her into the mess she was, nor had it anything to do with her choices back when they lived in this cabin that felt smaller and smaller with each of Cassian's words. She didn't want him to make excuses for her, she should have done more, and that was a fact she had already accepted.

"No, I did. I said that to you, and then the rest followed me."

"What does that have to do with this?" she vaguely waved her hands at the surrounding space. The room that had once been her house.

"Everything." he answered "Feyre wanted a peaceful meeting, you know? She wanted to do the talking, and for us to behave, and I couldn't hold my tongue. I fucked up, and only lately I've realized the damage my words actually caused.”

In the quietude of the room, his voice was a thunder. Nesta turned to face him and finally met his eyes, that were screaming for a chance to explain. But explain what? She already knew what she had to make up for, and didn't see what Cassian or the people who accompanied Feyre back to the Mortal Lands had to do with her past.

“I only thought of you as an extension of your sister.”  She was curious to know when that had changed for him. She remembered the exact second the illyrian Commander had stopped being just her sister’s friend to her, earning a place of his own in her heart “I heard Feyre’s story, felt her suffering, and forgot you were a person too. You were entitled to your fears and to make mistakes as we all are, and I had no right to call you out there, when I knew close to nothing about you, and who you were. I didn't see that you had been a kid too, and your family's wellbeing wasn't just your responsibility, just as it wasn't Feyre's. I had no right to get involved in that unresolved issue between you, and I feel like when I did... I kind of gave everyone permission to do the same, and feel entitled to an opinion that weights as much as Feyre's and yours do in the matter. If I could go back…”

“You can’t” Nesta cut in. She wouldn’t let him, because if she wasn’t allowed to, then none of them would. It wasn’t fair.

Cassian still didn’t move, his presence painfully obvious. Cassian didn’t miss the shaking of her hands, but said nothing about it. She tried to put some of her usual icy rage in her eyes, but couldn’t. She tried to hide the excruciating pressure in her chest, the ache in her heart, but couldn’t either.

“I know you blame yourself for not being a caretaker and provider for your sisters, Nes” he started again when she didn’t go on “I know you already blamed yourself before we met, and I know I... we only made it worse, pushing you down thinking we were being good friends to Feyre. We actually hurt both of you in the end. I can’t speak for my friends, but I can speak for myself and tell you how sorry I am for not seeing that sooner. For not seeing you. And for making this" he looked rround towards the cot, the dinning table and the room they had just been into "worse than it already was.” The floor creaked under his weight when he took a step towards her, next to the cob. “You were barely older than she was, it wouldn’t have made a difference if it had been you in the woods. The three of you were too young to take that role”.

Then whose was it? His father? That's what she had thought for most of her life, but now... what about his leg? The pain he endured just by walking outside? She was the oldest, she should have done more, and she knew that. She didn't want them —Feyre— to just forgive her and pretend it had never happened. Because if she had done something more back then, then their live would be different now, for better or worse. She didn't want people to pitty her, and to tell her that she was an innocent and blameless soul.

"Why can't you just let me take accountability?"

"To take accountability is good, and I'm glad you are ready to do so, because you have to, in order to move on." He took her face in his hands taking one last step closer, their bodies almost touching “But I think we've let you think everything that happened to your sisters could have been avoided if you had been the one carrying the bow, and that's simply not true.” His thumb brushed over her cheek “What no one told you, Nesta, is that surviving is not only about getting food and water, or even a roof. I would know about that.” He chuckled softly, trying to lighten up the atmosphere around them in the dimness of the room ” Feyre is a great huntress, she didn’t need you carrying the bow and shooting the arrows.” Nesta would have died on her first winter hunting, both of them knew that. “You were needed as an older sister, and that doesn't equal being a provider for your family. She needed your support and care when she came back from a long day looking for food. A family.”

Enough tears to make a new sea had been shed by both her and Feyre in her art studio not so long ago. Feyre had asked for that exaclty: an older sister who had her back. And Nesta had promised she would try.

Nesta didn’t really know how to use or control her powers, and Feyre had surrounded herself with fae strong enough to never need Nesta to save her again.

But Cassian was right. That was not what Nesta could offer her little sister anyway, and that was not what Feyre needed from her either. That was not what she had ever wanted from her father, either. In the end, it all came to the four of them failing at being a family.

Feyre needed had needed that as much as Nesta did.

She was ready to be that from now on.

When she didn’t answer, Cassian stayed quiet, allowing her once again to get lost in her thoughts as long as she needed to, but wary at the same time, in case she drifted back to the dark ideas that so frequently starred in her nightmares.

Nesta freed herself from his grip and went back to the cot, running a hand over its cracking wood frame. Splinters snagged at her fingertips.

Her father’s body crawled up on the chair, the small fire burning until late at night so he wouldn’t freeze under the shabby blanket he used to keep himself warm… Nesta could picture it clearly when she looked at the cot again. “He’d drag it in front of the fire every night and curl up there, huddling under the blankets. I always thought he looked so … so weak. Like a cowering animal. It enraged me.”

That was the issue, the whole point of coming to the cabin. Her soul needed to face this chapter of her life like her lungs needed the air she breathed to keep her body alive. Nesta had to find a way to cope with the matted of feelings, nightmares and emotions —with the contradictions that formed in her heart.

It was always about him in the end. Her father. Their relationship.

She wanted to forgive him. She was sure of that. But there was still so much anger, such immense feeling of abandonment inside her that hadn’t been cured in time. He had been there for her in the end, and somehow that was even worse, because now she couldn’t even despise him for his cowardice. He died for her before he could face the consequences of his decisions, as she was trying to do now. He died, leaving his daughter with even more guilt inside. Because now she finally knew he did love her enough to get up from his chair and try anything, but was gone before she got a chance to do anything with that.

Her father had finally done what she needed from him, and she couldn’t even thank him. Tell him that she forgave him and ask him to forgive her back for all the times she picked on him. Tell him that she loved him, that she was grateful and his effort had been worth it.

“It …” Her throat worked. “I thought him sleeping here was a fitting punishment while we got the bed. It never occurred to me that he wanted us to have the bed, to keep warm and be as comfortable as we could. That we’d only been able to take a few items of furniture from our former home and he’d chosen that bed as one of them. For our comfort. So we didn’t have to sleep on cots, or on the floor.” She rubbed at her chest. “I wouldn’t even let him sleep in the bed when the debtors shattered his leg. I was so lost in my grief and rage and… and sorrow, that I wanted him to feel a fraction of what I did.” Her stomach churned.

He squeezed her shoulder, but said nothing. Nesta didn’t talk for a moment, and Cassian put an arm around her to press her body against his, hugging her without a word. The warmth from his chest felt almost too good. She needed it, and also the calmness of his heartbeat.

“He had to have known that,” she said hoarsely. “He had to have known how awful I was, and yet … he never yelled. That enraged me, too. And then he named a ship after me. Sailed it into battle. I just … I don’t understand why.”

“You were his daughter.”

“And that’s an explanation?” She rose her chin to look at him and scanned his face, the sadness etched there. Sadness —for her. For the ache in her chest and the stinging in her eyes.

“Love is complicated. But he loved you.”

“I can’t for the life of me understand why.” she answered.

Nesta didn’t even have to think the words, they came out of her mouth before she even realized what she had said.

Cassian had told her that once last year —that he couldn’t understand why her sisters loved her. That simple sentence, said by him so casually in the middle of the street, followed her home and helped her already overwhelming self-loathing bring her even lower. Nesta had often wanted to know if he went over his words as frequently as she did after that night and the following months. She wondered if the confession he had made hunted him too.

Nesta had come to the conclusion that it didn’t torment him one bit the moment he came to her apartment to pick her up and take her to Feyre’s new mansion by the river. She was convinced at that moment that he actually couldn’t come up with a single reason why Feyre and Elain still wasted their time on her.

Yet he was here, so she wasn't alone whilst facing her past. He was by her side now, not giving up on her no matter how badly she screwed up.

Cassian opened his mouth to say something, but whatever he was about to say, she didn't want to hear it now. It didn’t matter how he felt back then, she only cared about the present. And he was by her side. He was being a friend, apologizing for things he regretted that Nesta herself hadn't even consider, but somehow made sense.

She forgave him. Because she knew what it was like to crack under pressure and be hurtful towards people you care about when you don’t know how to help them and become desperate.

And Cassian somehow could read through her too, as he closed his mouth, his lips pressed tight.

Both of them let the unspoken words float between them, saying nothing, only looking at each other. Nesta was not perfect and he wasn’t either —there was no need to be perfect. Not right now. There were so many things they had yet to find the courage to discuss, that Nesta didn’t care. Looking into his hazel eyes, Nesta found the reassurance she needed that they would talk about it, with time, and that was enough.

They would talk about every unsaid thing between them.

They had all the time in the world.

The forgoten room reappeared around them at some point, as if they had been somewhere else when they got lost into each other’s eyes.

She studied the calluses already building across her fingers and palms. She made herself meet Cassian’s gaze again. “I didn’t just fail Feyre by letting her go into the woods. There were plenty of other times. I feel guilty.” Nesta said the words aloud for the first time. It was a clear feeling, as much as she hated it. She had finally found the one comprehensible spot in the mess that was her heart. Using that, she could pull the thread until she untangled the whole thing. It would take time, but it was a first step. Maybe there was hope for her after all.

Guilt. She felt guilt. She would work on that.

“Have you ever told her this?”

Nesta snorted. “No. I don’t know how.” That was still a problem.

He studied her, and she resisted the urge to squirm under the scrutiny. “You’ll learn how. When you’re ready.”

“How very wise of you.”

Cassian sketched a bow.

Despite this house, the history all around her, Nesta smiled. She pocketed the carved rose. “I’ve seen enough.”

He arched a brow. “Really?”

She clenched the wooden rose in her pocket. “I think I just needed to see this place. One last time. To know we got out. That there’s nothing left here except dust and bad memories.”

He slid an arm around her waist as they walked for the door, again surveying all the little paintings Feyre had squeezed into the cottage. “Az won’t be back for a little while. Let’s go flying.”

“What about the humans?” They’d run screaming in terror.

Cassian gave her a wicked smile, opening that half-broken door for her. Leading her into the sunlight and clean air. “It’ll add a little spice to their days.”

[sweetwritertanya]

Dressed Up For Halloween (Taehyung)

Summary: Taehyung decides to invite you to a party he has to attend a bit last minute. So, you end up with a cheap and basic, albeit cute, witch costume. Going to the party makes you feel pretty self-conscious and it takes him a while to notice.

Warnings: SMUT! As always, do beware of (or look forward to): erotic body touching, fingering, hand-job, unprotected sex (do as I say, not as I write, be safe!), standing sex, sex in closet, aftercare.

Word Count: 2627

Okay, so you knew it was a predictable choice, going as a witch for Halloween. But it’s not like Taehyung gave you a heads up in time, you literally had less than three days to prepare. The best costumes were already out of stock in all of the stores you knew in town, you didn’t have that much to chose from.

Even so, you actually quite liked the one you ended up purchasing. It was a three-quarter length sleeved dress with a puffy ruffled skirt, sparkling tule to give it a magical feel and a belt to bring you in at the smallest part of your body, the waist. It worked wonders for your silhouette, showcasing the best curves of your oversized frame. The small skirt, longer on the back, displayed your soft legs, covered only by fishnet tights down to your black high-heels. With a typical broom in one hand and a pointy hat in your head, a striking make-up look, you actually liked the costume.

You should have had the foresight to ask your boyfriend what he would go as. Maybe then you would have felt better about how much you stood out next to him. He showed up at your doorstep dressed as Bob Ross, with a pair of expensive denim jeans and a blue fitted silk shirt, certainly from Gucci, a paint palette in one hand and a brush on the other. The only things missing were a fluffy curly wig and a beard, but he did have his black hair curly. He looked stunning as always and, once again, you wondered how the hell you got so lucky.

“My mischievous little witch, you look ravishing tonight, honey” he compliments with a boxy smile, before kissing your lips.

It would have been a lovely day if only you had skipped the party. You knew close to no one there except for Taehyung’s close friends, and they were all busy talking with other people, important people in the business. More than that, you kept standing by as Taehyung got continuous compliments on his costume – especially from daring women – which only made you feel more and more poorly dressed.

Being pretty oblivious in nature, Taehyung didn’t notice anything strange when you excused yourself and took a place next to the cupcake’s table, lips tugging down just like your spirits for the night. Your hand reached for one of the delicious looking treats and at the first bite you knew this would be where you would probably stay the rest of the night, surrounded by your closest friend: food.

By the second treat, you are leaning against the table, avoiding eye contact with anyone and fighting back the tears gathering in your eyes. You knew you were being overly sensitive about this whole thing, that you should be stronger than this. But knowing it didn’t mean you felt it.

“Y/N, honey, the guys and I were talking about-” Taehyung shows up next to you out of nowhere, with a spring on his step and a vibrant energy radiating from him. That is, until he searches for your eyes and realizes the state you were in. “Honey! What’s wrong, what happened?”

He leans down and places his hands on your shoulders, trying to keep your gaze but you glance away every time. His joyful expression is overtaken by a worried one, broad dark eyebrows pulled together and wide defined lips slightly parted.

“Nothing, really, don’t worry about it” you try and deflect his concern, to no avail.

“C’mon, let’s get out of here first” he decides, grabbing you by the hand.

Holding your hand firmly in his large one, Taehyung leads you away from the crowd, away from the party, and you can tell he doesn’t really know exactly where to go just yet. He is just searching for a quiet place to talk to you in a building he doesn’t even know very well.

Opening a door after you two cut a corner to an empty corridor, he pushes you into a maintenance closet, with shelves on both sides and tools at the back. It was a small room that was barely large enough to fit you two comfortably. Taehyung seems to hesitate for a moment, but does end up closing the door behind you and turning on the light.

“Okay, I doubt anyone will find us here. Now, why are you crying?”

“I’m not crying. I’m on the verge of” you correct him, to which he just crosses his arms and throws you a look. You sigh and, without looking at his face, you confess what’s been bothering you so much. “I just… I wish I didn’t come here. Tae, I don’t fit in. I don’t know anyone and everyone is wearing such expensive and creative costumes while I’m… I showed up dressed up for Halloween as a witch, Tae. A witch. Like the basic bitch I am.”

“Hey!” he admonishes, taking your face in between his hands and making you look at his offended expression. “My girlfriend is anything but a basic bitch. You look better than anyone out there and idiot is anyone who doesn’t see it!”

You smile and lean your head in his hands, enjoying the comforting warmth.

“You have to say that because you’re my boyfriend. But I appreciate the sentiment.”

His demeanor changes subtly, his comforting hands leaving your face to clutch together in front of him, head hanging low and eyesight set on the floor beneath his feet.

“Not much of a boyfriend if I didn’t even realize how bad you were feeling. I’m sorry I forced you to come with me, Y/N” he apologizes, voice filled with guilt.

“Hey, none of that” is your turn to comfort him, separating his hands so you can sneak past them and hug him by the waist, chin prompted on his chest as you look up with affection. “You invited me to come and I said yes. It’s not your fault I’m feeling a bit sensitive today about all of this. And you’re doing a great job as my boyfriend so far, Taehyung.”

He smiles slightly at that, releasing his culpability with a heavy sight as he leans his forehead against yours and closes his eyes.

“Want to go home now, honey?” he asks.

“Yes, please. If you don’t mind.”

His smile stretches wider and he pecks at your lips, just a few inches away from his and just begging to be tasted. Hands resting on your wide hips, he is about to step back and guide you two back out when you stand on your toes to steal a kiss from him too, soft lips meeting in a sweet encounter.

It was supposed to just be a quick kiss, but soon a kiss turns into two and three, and then it’s too difficult to keep count anymore. Mouths refuse to part as the air in the small room thickens, your skin starts to tingle and scorch under his touch, your back hits the shelves behind you and stays constrained against them as Taehyung’s slim body presses into your soft one.

More than touch, his hands are squeezing your abundant flesh over your clothes, creating paths from your waist to your lower back, up to your shoulder and again down your sides. Your cheeks turn red in crimson heat, eager hands pulling at the silk shirt to untuck them so you can run your fingers directly against the warm skin of his hips and lower spine. Taehyung shudders and sighs under your touch and your stomach clenches in desire for so much more.

As much as your mind logically understands that you shouldn’t keep going, your body screams for more and more. So, you don’t even try to stop him when Taehyung’s wondering hands find themselves at your thighs, playing with the fishnet tights, digits sneaking in between the holes to press against your flesh.

“Oh, Tae…!” you whisper, arching your back and clawing at his waist.

“You want to stop?” he immediately questions, voice dripping with repressed lust.

“God, no!”

He chuckles and attaches his beautiful lips to the side of your neck while his hands grew busy. The tights added no constriction as he grazed his finger over your clothed core, charging up the already electrified pressure down in your womb. The black panties hide the growing stain right at your crotch but there is little you can do to hide how turned on you are once he pulls the garment aside and dips his digits directly into your velvet center.

You jump slightly at the touch, mewling as you hold on to his shoulders, letting your legs fall a bit more apart to give him better access.

“You are so wet, darling” he informs, as if you didn’t know, with a hint of wonder and almost disbelief behind his tone.

Simply mewling into his chest at that, his fingers start a lazy path up and down your slick slit, teasing at your clenching hole and drawing circles at the little engorged pearl on the other side of your lower lips. You feel like your insides are bowling, a desperation taking over your brain and body that only he could originate.

When his lips reach yours once again, tilting his head to the right so he can taste you fully, that’s when he slides the first finger in, a delectably long finger of his that drag against your clenching walls in the most pleasurable ways. He swallows your moans as he keeps kissing you, tongue revolving around yours at a similar pace his finger slid in and out of you. As your breathing grows rapidly shallow, he moves his mouth to instead bite at your ear, at the same time he decides to add another finger.

The stretch is wonderful in the most shameless ways and when he starts scissoring them inside while keeping them knuckle deep in you, the legs holding you up almost gave out. Then he curls his fingers, deep inside and grazing your cervix, right at that spot that clouded your vision with white spots of light. With a movement of his thumb against your sensitive clit, you come undone completely and it takes all of your inner strength not to yell out as the aching coil unfurled from within.

He allows you a moment to regain control over your thoughts, fingers still buried in you but immobile. When you lean back against the shelves, spent but functional again, he removes them and you watch with hooded eyes as he licks them clean, almost shyly. His eyes were as dark as his hair, cheeks tinted pink and lips bruised red.

“Do you… want to continue this back home? I may need a few minutes before we leave” he states, looking down at himself before raising his eyes back at you.

You follow his glance and realize what he was talking about. Even in denim jeans, there was no hiding the enormous bulge pressing against his zipper. It would be difficult to get out of here without anyone noticing it.

“Maybe we don’t need to go back home to continue” you suggest, biting your bottom lip as you allow your hands to fall from his shoulders down his chest and tug at his belt.

A shaky grunt leaves your boyfriend’s throat and he tilts your head up towards him. You see passion and lust behind his look as he brushes his thumb over your lips and then gives you his fingers for you lick any remaining trace of yourself clean. You suck on his digits at the same your hands undid the belt and pulled the pants down, tasting both his own unique sweet and spicy flavor as well as your own.

Slowly, you pull at the hem of his boxers to free his erection and pull it down to where his pants had fallen, just above his knees. Taehyung’s cock stood tall and proud, flushed a dark pink and curving up ever so slightly. The dying flame at the pit of your stomach flared back up intensely at the sight.

One hand pulling at his collar so you can kiss him seductively, the other one encircles his length and, with a rough grip, pumps up and down the erect dick. Grunts bubble up his throat as you do so, his hands grasping at your arms to ground himself. You use your fingers and thumb to stroke over the flushed tip while you move your fist around him and he almost chokes.

“Feeling good?” you question with your lips pressing just below his hear.

“Y-yeah, very” he manages to respond.

He would prove it soon enough, when after just a few more pumps of your hand leave him mad with desire and he steps back from you. Removing your hands from him, he ends up ripping your fishnets between your thighs in the attempt to pull them off and pushes your panties aside, aligning himself with your entrance while lifting one of your bulky legs with a hand beneath the knee.

He plunges inside in a swift move, your welcoming warm walls embracing him with pleasure. It makes the hair behind your neck stand up and a moany sigh escape you.

“Those were my only fishnets, Tae” you complain even in the midst of all these erotic sensations.

“Sorry, I’ll buy you new ones” he promises in a breathy whisper.

He starts rocking his hips back and forward, his cock inside pulsating and filling you completely as the tip nestled right up against your cervix. You have to take the back of your hand against your mouth to keep you from making noise, the heavenly feeling of his shaft dragging inside your walls too much for you handle. Every time his pelvis snaps against yours, the impact reaches your protruding clit and you jolt, heat rising off of you.

Your pliant muscles fit snuggly around his throbbing haft and the slickness increases as the fire grows, pressure building rapidly deep and low in your belly. Taehyung’s face was flushed and glistening with a thin layer of sweat, you could see the throb of blood on his temples as his hips snap forward harder and faster, deeper and desperate. The grip on your leg is so strong it may leave an imprint of his fingers and you don’t care one bit as his cock suddenly hits that hidden spot inside and you cried out into your fist, eyes closed and back arched.

Your body melts into pleasure that uncoiled from your womb and erupted abruptly, leaving your brain dizzy and muscles clenched in the pleasurable high until they gave out in the most satisfying release. Feeling your walls sucking him dry as they collapse around his cock, Taehyung thrusts just a couple of times before his own release floods through him like water, crashing down in molten waves that have him quivering and spilling inside of you.

Spent and tired, Taehyung still manages to reach for a box of tissue paper they had in store and take out a few of them. Slowly, almost painfully, he slips out from you and cleans the mixture of juices that spill out with the up most care. He throws the dirty tissues to the garbage can beneath the cleaning cart and pulls your panties back up as well as rearrange your tights. Then he buckles himself back up but not without leaning down to kiss your smiling lips one last time.

“Let’s get out of here and throw our own Halloween party back at home? Just the two of us?” he proposes, knowing perfectly well that was your ideal scenario.

“Yes, please” you smile with adoration at him and agree.

[aggresivelyfriendly]

Tis the Damn Season

Chapter Five- Santa Baby

Hello, I took a couple weeks, because life can be busy, and mine is changing, but here is a little 🎁!

Thanks to @dirtystyles, she’s the real gift!

"What are you wearing?"

"I'm sorry, but what?"

 It was all she could think to say. Emma hadn't heard from Harry in months. In August he had sent her a random picture of him in a collar with long hair. She knew he had chopped his hair months ago, it had caused an internet flurry and was one of the few times he'd emerged from hibernation. She might be miffed that his year-off apparently didn't include visiting her. Not that she had asked him to.

She'd never ask.

Emma might also be incredibly miffed that he had cut off his glorious hair. She'd rocked herself to sleep many a night thinking of the way it felt trailing ver her chest, then stomach, in the crevice of her thigh. The crunch and silk of it between her fingers when she got it between her fingers at the end of that path or when he was rocking her to sleep.

Thinking about his hair usually made her hot for him, and thinking of it gone made her nostalgic, and a little mad. And that was when the memory was fresh and jot months old.

In any case, she wasn't feeling very soft for him, and that was a sexy question. She definitely wasn't feeling wet for him.

She had just walked out of class on a freezing cold day before she was ready for it to be this chilly, and she had to ride her bike. Her class was on individual contribution to global crises. Emma was the first to point out that individuals were not the true climate change culprits, but every bit helped. She just wished she'd ridden one of the clean energy buses today. Today sucked.

"Your teeth are chattering Emma, you outside?" she made an affirmative sound and he wisely knew better than to wait for an answer after that. He'd set up this mood, after all. "Sorry, came out wrong, it was meant to be funny." Harry had an apology in his voice. It was like the first knead of a dough, but he had a long way to go. "Anyway, what I meant is, I'm Christmas shopping, and I was thinking about what you might like, was gonna get you a jumper, and I think I have an idea of your style, but wanted a little guidance, I'd hate to buy you something and have you hate it—"

"Harry, take a breath!" She could feel that smile he had a way of bringing to her lips, despite herself. She really wanted to be upset with him, but seemed he'd proved himself, or distracted her at least.

Emma can't quite get a full grasp on why she's irritated with the phone call with him.  She's not sure what she expected. They never had a conversation about it, about how they are just a little holiday fling. She's never even had a summer fling, so she doesn't know the rules but she assumes that they are not supposed to repeat year on year. Least not without some progress or a defining conversation where they decided on not a relationship. He was confusing. He'd been so happy to have a bit of extra time with her, she'd thought he might be in touch more, with his seemingly abundant free time. She's wanted him to be in touch more. But he hadn't.

She'd heard from him less than ever.

And now he was buying her gifts and making her smile. Damn him.

"I'm breathing, promise." He sighed. "I just could tell I'd pissed you off, and I don't want to. I've been thinking about Christmas, and well, I'm excited."

"I'm excited too. Holidays are exciting." Emma is not going to read into that. He's excited to be with his family. He's Christmas shopping for everyone. This is not about her, them.

There is no them.

There is no them, except between Christmas Eve and New Years. And that is purely physical.

These are the things she repeated to herself when she was sad, waiting for him to call or text. Sad from how he dragged himself from their pub bed saying he'd miss her and be in touch and then wasn't. His sweet nothings were like when people signed your yearbook K.I.T. She knew you weren't supposed to take those yearbook signings seriously, but he'd said it, not written it below some picture of him. That counted more, right? Than a picture? Those were cheap, especially of him; there were pictures of him everywhere, Emma was also upset that none of them looked like the real life him. Just a shade of his actual beauty.

She wanted to see him now. She missed him though she shouldn't.

Just over a month now until Christmas. And a busy one at that. She had so much data to sift through from the summer and a presentation she was basing on it was her culminating project. It would also make an early start on her field work come summer. Those things, academic, important things were her focused her life's work. Not delicious Harry Styles and his sweet holiday nothings.

"Yes, especially when I get my favorite for Christmas." Harry said bringing her back to the call they were on.

The meaning behind those words were a bit harder to ignore. All she could get out was "Oh?" Then she rolled her eyes at herself and cleared her throat and said, "Your mum's Christmas cake?"

He chuckled. "I am fond of that cake, I think I put on two stone last year from how much I ate. And she sent me home with one!"

Emma almost called bullshit on that. He'd expended all those calories, she'd been the apparatus.

She took a breath to speak, and he cut her off. "I don't mean the cake, anyway, I mean you: you're my favorite thing to have at Christmas. The best gift."

What was she supposed to say to that? Another eloquent oh? Instead she said, "Your favorite thing?" Playful offense on the word thing.

"Oh hush." He laughed. "You're my favorite, Emma. In case you want to be obtuse and miss my point. I'm very excited to see you."

She breathed in. All she could manage to reply with was "Me too."

She meant it, but as they got off the phone after setting up their usual tryst and a special meeting before the party to exchange gifts, she couldn't help but wonder if he did. If what he said was true, why the radio silence?

The gift on her lap on the train was large and ostentatious. She didn't have a ton of money for the it, student life, but her recipient was a millionaire, so she'd gone all out on the wrapping paper.

It was a frog in a Christmas hat, the motif on the paper. Emma remembered when she and Gemma had called Harry "frog boy" and he'd been mortified. But it had also found its way into their private rooms. Not when he was inside her, that would be weird, but when he looked up at her and grinned, all dimples and no teeth from where he likes to make her stomach a pillow.

How "Froggy" had become a term of endearment, she didn't know. The moment she'd seen the cute froggy in his holiday rig on the overpriced paper, she had stopped what she was doing, parked her bike with no lock, and popped in the shop.

She then had to find something to put in the paper. He'd been shopping for her this year, in October, and he'd said he was at the shop and she'd seen pictures of him hauling bags out of Gucci. That was not intimidating at all.

They had exchanged small things in years past. Harry had started it, he'd given a cookbook a friend recommended the year she went vegan. Then the next year he'd donated in her name to a clean air initiative. She'd just picked up odds and ends she thought he'd like, like a 100% recycled journal one year and a glass bottle set for his gym runs the next.

This year, she'd racked her brain, but she'd eventually found the perfect gift to fill her frog paper. She was getting better at this. He was entirely too good at it, and he was a quick learner. She'd been underwhelmed with the flowers he sent the first year and had explained that cut flowers made her sad. It seemed a waste to kill something for its fleeting beauty. Harry had nodded thoughtfully.

The next flower he sent was a gorgeous orchid, it arrived once she was back in Amsterdam and came with instructions. That first orchid had started a trend and between his gifts and her own new interest, her flat was looking very jungle esque.

Emma was always very excited to see him, but this year, after his call, there was more anticipation and preparation. If he was going to be ready for her, she would be ready for him.

She got a fresh haircut and trimmed her bush. The thrift store was kind to her, and her new Christmas jumper was perhaps less ugly than flattering, but that was ok with her. She particularly liked the way it lay over the skirt she'd planned to wear to the Twist's annual todo.

Her flights had been uneventful and her mother was elated and doting. Emma found it much more tolerable this year. Maybe she was just in the spirit, or maybe she'd been away from the village and her family long enough to actually miss them.

She definitely missed Harry.

He, predictably, had texted that his flight was delayed and he was trying to make arrangements, but he might not even make it in time for the party.

"I'm doing everything in my power to get there tonight. If I can't make my mother's party, but arrive tonight, can we meet? I'll call the inn."

"Yes." Was all she texted back. She found she was mourning their kiss beneath the mistletoe, and that he might miss her outfit. But Harry's power was considerable, and she had no doubt he would be at the Boar's Head in time to see what she planned to wear under the sweater.

Those pieces, she felt a twinge guilty about. They were pricey and definitely not second hand. Used pants were where she drew the line.

People, not Emma, bemoaned Harry's absence when those who still lived local or were able to travel home gathered for toast. Emma knew she wasn't the only one who came home partially to see Harry. It was why she was able to fly under Gem's radar, hopefully.

Gemma's only comment was, "He'll be here when he can." When Eloise asked where Harry was. She asked every year, it annoyed Gem, and took some of the heat off Emma. Eloise was so obvious, Gemma could direct some of her protective big sister vibes that way.

The night was winding down and Emma's third glass of champagne could use topping up. She'd just sidled into the kitchen to pop another bottle when a pair of arms came around her from behind.

She'd have dropped the bottle too if Harry had not pulled the most uncharacteristicly smooth and agile catch he'd ever made, whilst dipping her for a swoon worthy kiss.

"Harry!" Emma gasped, "What are you doing?" Her Hand went to find his hair, and she was sad to find it until she found his sharp, bare jaw instead. It cut through her nostalgia and she was able to appreciate his face on a new way. His lips.

"Getting my midnight kiss!"

"It's not New Year's." It was better, like new year's and her birthday combined, that kiss.

"Not yet!" He righted her but stayed wrapped around her while she popped the bottle. She poured him a glass too and had to refrain from holding his hand when she pulled him into the living room after they toasted.

He stole a kiss before they went to join the others.

It looked like his arrival was going to renew the party spirit, but he begged off as tired, and disappeared to his room by 1:30.

Emma wasn't sure what to do, or where to go, so she just slipped out the back at 2:00 when a car nearly gave her heart palpitations by pulling up right in front of her. The door popped open and Harry stuck his head out. "Cmon, it's our getaway car!"

She couldn't help but shake her head. "You disappeared and I didn't know what you wanted to do."

"Well, you obviously!" He giggled, high off the champagne and his conniving. "C'mon! We don't have that long. I wanna do Christmas morning with you!"

"It's still nighttime." Emma pointed out.

"Don't worry, we'll find something to do until the sun comes up." He looked up at her through his lashes and she couldn't help but bite her lips.

"What's the rush, Styles?" Emma asked as she climbed into the car. The driver seemed unconcerned and headed down the familiar lanes of a familiar place.

"No rush, I'm just excited and have to be back so I can sneak in for Christmas brunch."

"Oh." She knew that, it wasn't the first time.

"Not 'oh,' I want to give you your gifts on actual Christmas."

"Are you Santa Claus?" She teased as he pulled her into his chest.

"If that's what you're into? I'll be whoever you want me to be."

"Then just be you." She said with painful earnestness before she could stop herself.

Harry looked down at her in the cradle of his armpit and put his forehead to hers and gave her an Eskimo kiss. "As long as you're you."

Emma melted and if she hadn't been so tired and a little too drunk on bubbly she wouldn't have fallen asleep on the way to the Boar's Head.

"Baby," Harry whispered into her hair. "Wake up, we're here."

"I can't believe I fell asleep that fast."

"It's my voice, I've been told it has a sedative power."

"Sleepy is not usually how your voice makes me feel." What truth serum had she taken tonight?

"Well, I'll have to talk a lot to keep you up then. Hope you're refreshed after your little nap."

She was, and he kept her up but by 5:00, even his deep voice and other powers of persuasion couldn't keep her leaden lids open.

"Baby! Emma." Harry was kissing her awake and holding out a shirt for her slip on while slipping socks up her calves. "Present time."

"Ok, Santa baby." She yawned and let him drag her into the room where she had completely missed the tiny Charlie Brown tree in the corner. "Oh! You went all out." She looked at him in awe when she noticed the multicolored packages under the tree. "I only got you one thing," she was rubbing sleep out of her eyes and too tired to bullshit. "I'm feeling inadequate."

"Nah, I've heard it's better to give than receive."

"That's not what you said a couple hours ago."

"I'll give gifts if you give head." They both scrunched their brows. "Scratch the part where I made it sound like you were my sugar baby."

"Or a prostitute."She raised an arch brow.

"Nah, I couldn't afford you." He didn't even smirk.

So she responded, "I think you think that's a compliment."

He snort laughed and she couldn't help but smile with him. "I mean, you do it well enough to be paid for it, but by the face you're making I better quit talking and get to the spoiling to get myself out of trouble. Go on, open a present."

"Any order you envisioned."

"Um? No, the one where order matters I have a plan for."

"This isn't all?"

"This is most." He nodded and she felt a warm place under her breast that only ignited when he was being domestic.

Back in her old room in her childhood home, or in her flat in Amsterdam, she'd occasionally puzzle over these moments. They felt nothing short of boyfriendy, and she loved it. When she thought back on them, especially in the cold January days, they kept her warm and made her feel special. She hadn't ever felt that warm flush in her chest with anybody but Harry. She'd kind of avoided the feeling, usually.

By July, after long periods of silence where he was running around the world while she endeavored to save it, the glow of those days paled in the midnight sun. When he acted like a boyfriend, like they were more than a hookup and then ignored her, it hurt. When she was well into her yearly drought, and all she had were those shooting stars to wish upon, the sweeter he was, the more rich the ache, the aftertaste saccharine.

Emma could tell, his gifts and the joy he seemed to take in giving them would warm her to the backbone through January, and make her teeth hurt by July.

And still she couldn't convince herself to stop, to ask, to protect herself. She couldn't even detach a little, she was so excited about the little stuffed animal she had for him in return.

"Harry, this is beautiful!" She unfolded a gorgeous sweater dress of a fine wool knit that screamed warm.

"Yeah?" He smiled, pleaded with the praise and himself. "I was at Gucci, and I was gonna get you some stuff there, but they just didn't feel like you, so I started doing some research on sustainable brands and I found this one, and another. This one is good for day to day, it's called Ever Lane, and the next, Bode, it's great for retro pieces. Open the next one."

She'd been staring at him. He was going to buy her Gucci? This was better, but that seemed like a pretty penny to spend on your holiday hook up. She knew money wasn't really an object for him. He always paid for the hotel on their rendezvous and she never brought it up. It was always just taken care of. She wasn't a starving student, but she also wasn't an international pop star. These gifts felt big, bigger than what they were.

He liked to be generous. But, it felt like these gifts, the 5 packages and one coming later were a statement in a language she didn't understand.

"Harry, this is too much." Was all she could say. He didn't respond with words, just gave her a look and shrugged his shoulders like, 'what else am I supposed to do with it'.

Emma knew from Gemma that Harry took care of them, their vehicles and his mum's house and whatever they mentioned they wanted or he thought they'd like.

Gemma had said last year, when she was thrilling over her Christmas gifts, "It's the one time of year I let him get away with it. The rest of the time I've gotten to where I don't mention things I like or want, because they show up on my doorstep, you know?"

Emma had nodded even though she didn't know, but she did now. He was so thoughtful it hurt, but the implications troubled her.

"Open the next one. I'm really excited for it."

It was a beautiful jacket, mustard, her favorite color, and matching mittens.

"For when you want to ride your bike, but it's chilly. They're very warm." He remembered she was cold on her bike that day.

Emma knew he remembered her text after the 'what are you wearing' conversation about being grumpy because she had chosen to ride her bike but it was too cold. His big beating heart could melt snow.

She swallowed down the sentiments clogging her throat along with her worries. Should she ask? She'd have too, eventually. This was feeling more serious than it should be, like he wanted to call her babe for more than a weekend, like he wanted her to stay, with him.

It's what she wanted, in some part of her, but was completely out of the question. He had a big international life, and she had her own global ambition.

The rest was wrapped donation cards to causes she'd worked for or even mentioned. The last gift was a small box, and when she opened it, she cried, then laughed and handed him his box.

"What?" He said, "I can't tell if you're happy or sad about that gift?" He worries his bottom lip.

It was another frog, just like the one she'd picked as the tangible gift when she'd made the donation in his name.

Emma just shrugged and wiped her eyes. "Open it."

His bursting balloon laugh inflated her merry heart. "Did we really do the exact same thing?" His face had an odd look she could only call tender.

"Same wavelength, me and you." He was misty like she had been a moment ago. He leaned forward and kissed her. Then picked up their stuffed frogs and made them kiss like he was a small child playing dolls. "I almost don't want to separate them."

"Are we still talking about the frogs?" She laughed, because she had a feeling they weren't.

He shrugged and his phone began to buzz. "Can I take a rain check on answering that question? If I don't leave right now, they will know I stayed out all night on Christmas Eve, and there will be questions. I don't think we are quite ready to explain what we are." He chose that moment to yawn like a lion in the late afternoon after a long day of lounging and got up to leave.

Emma still had questions.He'd said not quite ready to explain what they were doing. Emma wasn't even sure what they were doing. Were they going to tell people, tell Gemma? Tell them what? That they were together? Wanted to be together? Belonged together. The frogs too, did the frogs belong together?

He was dressed by the time she was done freaking out. He looked tired, but exhilarated, like he'd spent a night getting everything he wanted and a few things he didn't know he needed. "Bye doll," he kissed her, right on the mouth, affectionately and with only a trace of the heat the December air lacked. "I'll see you tomorrow night. Merry Christmas! I wanna see you in the sweater," he was walking through the door. "Oh, and the other thing?"

"Other thing?" She looked at him confused.

He pointed underneath the tree. "Have another look."

Emma blushed when she opened the lingerie. She wondered if he'd had to check her pants and bras for sizes or if he just knew the shape of her well enough that he'd guessed accurately.

They looked really good.

She needed to be getting home as well. There would be no getting out of it, she needed an excuse for rolling in just in time for Christmas brunch, her parents were notorious early risers, as was she. Her plan was to tell them she'd just made too merry the night before and slept on the couch at the Twist's. It was truth adjacent. It was the best she could come up with, her head was full of Harry and she couldn't think.

Her Christmas passed in a blur of food and wine and wrapping paper. Harry had sent her a picture of him with a bow on his head and asked her if she felt spoiled enough or needed him to wear the bow the next day.

She'd told him to wear it. And only it.

She'd not expected him to follow directions both precisely and with some creative license.

"Do you really think your cock is a gift?" She tried to mock him, while he stood proudly, hips first in their room at the Boat's Head.

"Well, I intend to give it to you!" He raised his eyebrows and stalked toward her. "I like the sweater. Looks amazing, but? Probably better here." He swept it over her head and deposited it on the floor.

"That was atrocious!" She giggled, but felt no anxiety unlike the last day or so.

"Yeah, maybe, but I needed to see if you'd worn my other gift."

"I thought it was my gift."

"For both of us, I'd argue." He winked.

"You wink like a drunk pirate." She couldn't help but smile at him. His silly banter had completely removed the nerves she should be feeling, standing in front of him in a Santa red bra, panties, garter belt, and stockings. She'd sourced the Santa hat herself and the black heels were hers.

"I'm feeling drunk seeing you in this." His hands were running over the satin on her hips and the lace at her waist, then the bare flesh of her ass. "I think I even lied to myself. This was definitely my present." The last word was said against her lips and his big hands slid down the globes of her backside to between her thighs, hoisting her onto his hips. The trail his thumbs left had her shivering.

The bed rose up to meet her. Harry hovered over her before standing and staring.

"Are we on pause?" She was panting and really hoping they were not stopping let alone slowing.

He opened his hands like a director, "I'm just trying to remember this to keep me warm all year." He ran his hands from her toes to her curled hair, she'd gone all out, then back down. His face was full of anticipation and a hesitation she'd never seen when she was this bare, not even the first time when he was flush on bravado and international acclaim.

"What is it?" She started to sit up.

He groaned. "Wow, that move did great things for your chest."

Emma could only laugh. He was acting like he'd never seen a naked woman, when he'd probably seen more than his fair share, and had definitely seen her before.

"You're acting like you've never seen me before."

"It's always like the first time. You're overwhelming."

"I'm overwhelming?" She wanted to laugh, she saw him as Harry, at first her friend's brother, then the cute boy with the big career she'd hooked up with, then her favorite holiday surprise, and now she couldn't define exactly what he was to her, mostly Harry? Who she missed all year and cherished for a week at a time in person, a deeply in her heart the rest of the time. She remained aware, however, of who he was, at large.

"Absolutely, I can barely take you. Can't believe I get to have you." What did she say to that? She only nodded, it was mutual. "Listen," he continued, "Can I take a picture of you. I'll keep your face out of it."

She thought for a moment, thrilled that he wanted to save this memory, to relive this moment until they met again. She didn't have any pictures of him, and thought there were so many online, none of them were really of him. "Yeah, go on Harry."

Maybe she should take one back. Save the neck down one place and the neck up as her wallpaper, she could get away with it. She saw classmates with him as their Home Screen. Her plans kept the nerves at bay while he got his set up ready.

He posed a leg, had her lay back, and then sit up. He took about 5 pictures on his phone, then three Polaroids, and by then she was getting into it. She was moving in ways that made her feel sexy and he was getting antsy.

"I'll show you, so you can approve, after." He discarded the phone and pulled his jumper over his head before crawling up the bed and over her.

"I trust you Harry. It's fine."

She wasn't sure what it was about those words, but he grew, thicker between her thighs and larger in her presence before he was kissing her bra off and asking if he could leave the stockings and shoes on.

"'Mmmhmmm." Emma moaned from her perch on the pillows looking down watching him pull her panties free and reattaching her stockings. "Damn." He kissed both places and flipped her over to skate his lips up her thighs and ass and back. Her hair was over her face while he kissed her neck and rutted into her with his jeans still on. She grabbed a handful of his glorious hair and kissed him over her shoulder. "Like this?" She asked.

"Mmhmmm." He echoed and she felt him kicking his jeggings free and sliding on the condom. She was flat on the mattress and unsure if he wanted her to push back on her knees. She didn't need to think about it long, he hoisted her up, and pressed a gentle hand between her shoulder blades so her body arched like a slide. His fingers climbed up to cascade down her backbone in an echo of the ride he was about to take down. He was right there, hovering, and Emma pushed back, but the whine in her voice was the more obvious tell.

"Baby, I need you."

"I need you, so much. Miss you when I'm gone."

She missed him when she was gone too. He slid his head in and waited. Emma wasn't really in control of the clenching this caused and it made Harry lose his grip on his. The smack of his hips against her thighs reverberated off the borrowed walls they considered their own.

He stroked her inside out and commented on the grip of her onto his dick. "It's like you don't want to let me go," he whispered into her ear.

Emma turned her head and breathed, "I don't want to." The kiss broke his rhythm and lingered until her clenching started over, again. How was she so close so soon?

"No, no, no." She whined when he pulled out.

"Shhhh, I've got you." He knew she was onto something, they'd become practiced hands at each other's pleasure.

He flipped her over and smoothed her hair back, bracketing her face between his hands like an aside he needed to voice right at that moment. "I just want to see you."

He went back in with ease, and with anybody else she might be ashamed for how embarrassingly wet she was, for the squelch. "God! Harry!" Her thighs came up to his hips and he hitched one over his elbow and open, then lay a good portion of his weight onto her. It was just the right side of too much. Just like all of him.

"Let me find it again, that high you were chasing?"

She was nodding, babbling. He picked up the rhythm from before and added a tiny rut at the end to the swelling of her clit. She was back on the trail to the summit quickly. It had been good, if fumbling, from night one. By this gift season, it was like he had installed all of her buttons personally and could push her to the edge at will. Her eyes were closed and she was concentrating hard on the oasis just beyond her horizon.

"Baby," he whispered, his breath soft and scented like her lip balm. "Open your eyes." He was just over her and he wrapped her open thigh back and around his knee. "Watch me," he made a c with his body so she could watch the goings on and feel them too.

"Oh, fuck."

"I love your filthy mouth. When you get going. Demure driven Emma on the brink has a dirty dirty mouth."

She'd narrow her eyes at him if she could bear to look away from his cock.

"Baby!" She gasped.

"Hold it, stay, just a little longer." He kissed her and then compelled her eyes to his. "I'll come with you."

His nose touched hers at just the tip and he rocked her and watched as she trembled and held off and pleaded. "Now, now, come now." He grit his teeth in preparation, but he needn't have worried, the minute he commanded it, she obeyed and the body roll of sensation ran from the roots of her hair to the bends of her knees.

He seized and his head fell back, but as soon as he was in command of himself again, his eyes were back on hers. "I love...," he gasped and her mind raced over what the hell he might say. What she wanted to gasp back. It was a bit of a comedown as opposed to a denouement when he filled in, "...having you for Christmas."

He buried his face in her neck and breathed into the nooks and crannies she thought she had kept safe from him.

Which was why it hurt so much when she had to tell him no.

His final gift, complete with an aching grin, had been an open ended ticket. "So you can come to me, with me, on tour."

She knew her brow knotted up like a bundle of discarded yarn. That wasn't the agreement. And she couldn't, couldn't even allow herself to want it. She had her PhD program looming. There was no time to go anywhere this fall.

"Harry, you know I can't."

He looked crestfallen, like this was new information and not why they only got these stolen snowbound days once a year. "Can't or won't?" He was verging on angry and it would piss her off if her heart wasn't so close to fissuring.

Honesty was her only policy, "Both." She handed the ticket back to him.

It ruined their night, the movie they tried to distract themselves with, the goodbye sex they didn't have.

He wasn't even there when she woke up the next morning.

But the tickets were on his pillow with a small note, "Change your mind, please. I'll be seeing you. H."

[mamsellechosette24601]

In the Green vs the real Hildegard's writings and philosophy

Because of “In the Green”, I started reading a bit about Hildegard and her thinking so as to better explore the themes of the musical. I read the book “Hildegard of Bingen: A Spiritual Reader", by Carmen Acevedo Butcher, which was short and insightful, with lots of excerpts from Hildegard, so I’ll share what I got from it in relation to the musical.

1. The symbolism of the colour green and of the sun

"Hildegard called this vigor viriditas, the “green” energy of agape love pulsing through the entire universe. Over and over in her writings, she chooses viriditas to express God’s vitality and the ways His goodness and love charge the whole world with life, beauty, and renewal—literally, with “greenness.” Her unique, creative use of this Latin word makes it something of a neologism in her work. In Hildegard’s mind, viriditas was first found in the green of the garden of Eden, but it is also the green of whatever twig you or I happen to be looking at in this present moment, whoever we are, wherever we may be. She knew that the natural opposite of this “greening” energy was spiritual desiccation (including what we often call “depression”). But, like God’s mercy, His revitalizing viriditas has no limits. Wherever Hildegard looked, she saw that this “green” force animates every creature and plant on this planet with verdant divine love."

"The patriarchs and prophets who prefigured and predicted Christ were the “roots” of God’s divine tree, on which sprouted the most delicate “bud,” who is God’s Son, and from Him grew the “fruit” of the virtues: Humility, Charity, Divine Love, Patience, and their sisters. This is a favorite metaphor for Hildegard, and in her songs she praises the Virgin Mary as the “twig” or “branch” on which the “bud,” baby Jesus, flowered. By her intelligent selection of this one word, oculus, Hildegard has shown the center of her work—that to see God is to grow."

"In one of this volume’s poems praising Mary, “Grateful for the Unobtrusive Good,” Hildegard’s use of metaphors suggests that she saw no separation between symbol and fact. Metaphors were reality to her. Hildegard’s point in this song is that the divinely made sun giving earth life is also, in a mystical way, the life-giving Son of God who as the Word made creation’s every twig, including Mary, and yet was also Mary’s “Bloom”(…) In this song to Mary, the sun (also God’s Spirit) shines on the Virgin Mary, the “greenest twig.” She is a twig, not even a branch; but she is green with God’s pregnant vitality, and her comparative insignificance (as a woman, and unmarried) prepares her for the greatness of God’s Spirit to grow within her and produce the miraculous “flowering” of God’s divine-human Son. Her weakness is her strength, a recurring theme in Hildegard."

So, when Jutta sings “I can see the last of the light / Reflected in the green / Of everything”and we know what is going to happen, we’re supposed to cry at the distortion of life’s goodness

Sun Song gains a much more religious meaning, when we see everything that the sun and nature meant for Hildegard. In her “Book of Divine Works”, the Holy Spirit says: "I’m the divine flame of life, I burn above the golden fields, I sparkle on water, and I shine like the sun, the moon, and all the stars. Together with the loving, hidden power of the wind, I make everything come alive. Remember that I’m also Reason. I inform the wind of the first Word that created all things. I’m your breath, I’m the breath of all things, and none die because I am that Life." (should I read into In the Green’s “Air leaves my lungs/ I’m lying on my back / I’m staring at the sky / I open up my mouth but the air swallows my cry”? Jutta was forsaken by God, completely).

Death Ceremony, with its translation of “O Viridissima Virga”, introduces us to Jutta’s and Hildegard’s quest away from Eve’s curse and towards the Virgin Mary. The “little green branch” seeks the “branch of freshest green”, instead of rotting.

The idea of strength in weakness, which the Hildegards find in First Verb, appears, together with the aforementioned notions of the “green” and the “bud”, in Hildegard’s “Play of the Virtues”. "The virtues and the souls: 'When the world began, everything pulsed with life and was the tenderest shade of green.Flowers blossomed everywhere. But, after the Fall, everything green faded." The Warrior-of-Truth saw it all and said: 'I see what happened, but my house is not yet full. Look at me instead. I’m the image of your Father. Know my broken body broken for you. I’m exhausted. I’m tired of being made a laughing-stock. It goes straight through me. Even my followers lose heart. But remember this. The original abundance of green did not have to shrivel up, and your faith will see its way to strength, until you know the divinity of my jewel-covered body intimately, a gem in each injury, and each injury a bud. Look, Father! See my wounds? Now, let people everywhere kneel before God the Father, who’ll hand us strength on strength." 

2. Hildegard’s “Scivias”, where she first shares her divine visions vs Jutta

In “Scivias” Hildegard writes a metaphor of the sinning soul. Turning away from God and towards sin (the “North”), the soul speaks “I regret that so much now! For I was captured, robbed, blinded, and violated. My garment was torn. I was dragged to a gruesome place and subjected to the worst kind of slavery”.

Then the soul repents, and hides in a cave, like Jutta hid in the Undergound: “After I’d said this, I went down the narrow path and hid from the eyes of the North. I went into a tiny cave and wept because I’d lost my Mother Zion. I wept, too, for all my wounds. I wept for my sadness. I wept and wept. I cried so many tears, they absorbed my pain and bruises. Then I smelled something very sweet. It reminded me of my mother’s soft breath on my cheek. That small comfort made me cry some more. I was so full of joy that I cried until it shook the mountain of my cave." The crying out of joy that will force the soul out of the cave also kind of reminds me of The Ripening, especially in this connection to a mother’s love (“In living I have learned/ to love another as a mother/ And I’ve felt that love inside my wicked flesh”) but I may be reading too much into it.

The soul then is persecuted by her enemies, and we are told “Then I saw poisonous snakes, scorpions, and other hideous reptiles slithering towards me. The snakes were hissing. I screamed, “Mother! Where are you?! Help me!” I heard my mother say, “Run, daughter! The Omnipotent, Unconquerable Provider has given you wings. Fly! Fly over these things blocking your path!” And I did." Compare this to “I’m not going back / I’ll run until I die / And when I can no longer run / I’ll teach myself to fly / I try”. All in all, the world of Hildegard’s visions is far from the reality Jutta faced.

The soul faces self-doubt and recovers remembering it was created by God: “The Devil’s poison arrow is the evil robbing me of my spiritual joy. I don’t want to celebrate people or God. I doubt everything when I feel this way, including my salvation. But when God helps me remember that He created me, then—even in the middle of my depression—I tell the Devil, “I won’t give in to my fragile clay. I’ll fight you!” How? When my inner self decides to rebel against God, I’ll walk with wise patience over the marrow and blood of my body. I’ll be the lion defending himself from a snake, roaring and knocking it back into its hole.” It echoes Jutta’s advice to Hildegard in The Rule, but of course, she is not whole like she claims she is. (“When you are whole, you will be like me / When you are whole, you will move confidently / Through your life / And you will understand how the boulder becomes sand / And you will know how to not become sand / When you are whole, you will never be scared / When you are whole, you will always be prepared / For a dragon's attack! / And you will slay the beast..or scare him away at least / And you will never again be the least”)

3. In “The Play of the Virtues”, Hildegard focuses a lot on clothing, as a metaphor for the “wearing” of salvation, as something we’re born with and must keep clean. This enhances how soul shattering Jutta’s experience was, “His hand pulling at my skirt”.

4. Letter to the Belgian Monk Guibert (1175) and Light Undercover: "My spirit is ever illuminated by what I call the shadow of the living Light. It has no physical limitations whatsoever and is much brighter than a cloud through which the sun shines. I can never predict when or how I’ll see it. As water reflects the sun, the moon, and the stars, this shadow of the living Light reflects God’s Word, sermons, virtues, and the things that humans do. Whatever I see in that Light’s shadow stays in my mind for a long time, stored away. I see and understand, hear and know at the same time. I only know what I see in these visions, because I’m untaught. I record what I see and hear, without adding my own words, and my Latin is unrefined, because that’s how I hear it in my visions. I’ve not been taught to write like a philosopher. Also, my visions are filled with images and sounds that are nothing like words spoken by any human. They’re more like a blazing fire and a cloud floating through a clear sky. I can’t comprehend this Light’s shadow any better than I can look right at the sun. Also, sometimes in that shadow (but not very often) I see another light. This is the living Light I spoke of earlier. I’m even less able to explain what this Light is like in comparison to the other. But I can say that when I look at it, every feeling of sadness disappears, and my every ache leaves me. I’m no longer an old, sick woman. I become young again." “Light is in the dark”, strength is in weakness.

5. The entire play gains a deeper, metalinguistic meaning, when we learn that for Hildegard, “When we sing, we repossess some of the Eden lost when Adam fell”. (Letter to the Prelates at Mainz, 1178).

6. Becoming Whole

Hildegard’s visions in “The Book of Life’s Merits” and Underground"I saw a very tall man. His head and shoulders were above the highest clouds. His torso was in a white cloud below this, while his upper legs were in the earth’s atmosphere. From the knees down, he was planted in the earth, and his feet were rooted in the deepest waters of the abyss, which represent the virtues and their power. They are the antidotes to sin, because they have the might to make anything whole. They do this by cleansing whatever they touch and making it holy. They nurture and sustain the world, and they bear all things. Everything on earth steeps in the moisture of the virtues and is made strong, in the same way that the soul makes the body moist and healthy, regenerating it."

In contrast to Jutta’s teachings about the body, Hildegard finds more balance in her writings, as Butcher puts it “Hildegard understood the symbiotic relationship between body and soul. She knew that when the body and soul are not in sync, a person’s whole world is out of whack. While she believed that the physical body is easily wayward and must be controlled, she did not teach that the body is evil (…) Hildegard’s work also emphasizes taking care of the body, because it is the sacred temple of the Holy Spirit”. Against ideas of duality, Hildegard brings “God’s goodness and the essential wholeness of a divine creation that refuses to be separated into neat-but-useless categories of earth and spirit, body and soul, nature and people”.