#cleansing your dash is self care

[estrellaesmoi]

It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new year for me! So I’m putting both anons and randoms on notice, since you want to act brand new in 2024. I’m blocking anyone who comes into my posts or asks with any hateration or holleration.

If you don’t like what I post, do yourself a favor and just block me, beloved. It’ll make your day much better. 😘✌🏽

[dancingwithfoxes]

10 little subtle ways and things you could be doing that are witchy!

(esp if you're still in the broom closet) ❤️🦊

1. virtual and online altars

pinterest boards dedicated to your gods/goddesses; quotes and aesthetics.

tumblr dedication blogs.

social media page with your witchy alias.

discord server, a private place to organise channels and create categories for what you want, i.e., spellwork, candle magick, crystal associations, etc.

music playlists, for both manifesting and connecting with your deities, they love coming through music.

2. journal/book altars

similar to the idea of a book of shadows, this will be personal writings and thoughts for specific deities.

you can customise it and decorate it much like a physical altar! i.e., stickers, washi tapes, markers, sparkles.

custom spreads for whomever you work with, you can put prayers you've written for them, words you want to convey, and express.

3. the wooden box altar, also known as a travelling altar

a place to put all your trinkets and necessities.

if you're unable to have a physical space, having one that's portable will help you take your altar wherever you go.

you can carve/paint the box to be more personal for you, or to be ultra discreet about it you can just customise the inner part so it doesn't stick out to people you don't want knowing yet.

4. origami shapes

for manifesting, write out what you would like and fold it into a star to carry out the manifestation.

use the idea of symbolism to embed your intentions, for luck, a four leaf clover. for allowing new opportunities to find you and let go, a butterfly, to succeed in something you could make a bird; "soaring to new heights."

you could also use this time to connect with your deities, just being with them in the moment.

5. financial abundance

if you can't blow cinnamon on the first day of the new month, put a dash of it in your morning coffee or tea first thing.

use of coins in the soil of your plants welcomes in prosperity.

likewise with coins, frogs are symbolic of wealth.

a bay leaf where you keep your wallet/purse, the exchange of the money you give out you will receive back with a little extra.

6. kitchen magick/green witchery

add spices/herbs to help achieve something you want i.e.,

pancakes with vanilla and honey to bring in loving and warm energy.

adding pepper/salt/basil/rosemary to encourage protection.

for clarity and insight, chamomile tea.

to have peaceful and calm resolve, lemonade with fresh mint leaves.

7. clothing and jewellery

wearing items of clothing or jewellery in honour of your deities, i.e.

rings, bracelets, and necklaces that symbolise something of them for you.

shirts with quotes you feel resemble them; colour associations work plenty.

if you crochet or make your own items of clothing, knot magick or sewing in a symbol that means something for you can help you feel confident when wearing it.

8. self-care can be devotional

doing things that make you happy whilst doing it in honour of your deities allows them to be present in your simple joys.

writing, poetry, reading; feeling called to read something because it holds a message for you.

indulging a show or something you watched in your childhood years, deities take pleasure in watching something that means alot to you and will be grateful to share that moment.

treats and specific cravings, i.e., little upg, but loki loves sweet pastries.

taking a walk about in nature gives your deities more room to show you the beauty of the world. take them to your favourite bench, to your favourite coffee shop.

knot magick, if you crochet, make something in honour of your gods/goddesses. they will ensure it brings you comfort when you hold it.

painting your nails, you can charge your nail polish beneath the moon or mix in a little moon water to be energised and intuitively connected.

9. cleansing and clearing of old energy

water

will help the bad flow out and let the good flow in.

showers/baths are good for self-cleansing.

holding a glass of water before drinking it and wish your intentions.

crying, allowing yourself to feel what it is you're trying to process in order for it to be released. can't release something you haven't finished going through yet.

moon water, I recommend this during a new moon as that's more symbolic to starting anew, planting seeds and encouragement toward growth.

sun water, can help with energising you and bringing in positive energy, also a confidence boost.

earth

holding onto a crystal for a few moments, just breathing in and out.

crystals can be used for cleansing, smoky quartz, clear quartz. there is a crystal for all your needs.

plants! plants are great for protection and for taking in bad energy. they will listen to what you have to say, and will love you as much as you love them.

food, especially grown from the earth can help you feel refreshed and buzzing with energy.

fire

burning, writing out your hardships, struggles, anger and burning them (safely please).

lighting a candle while you work on something, very therapeutic, and you can visualise the bad energy being burnt out and released.

incense, the smoke is a natural cleanser and will do wonders. you aren't restricted to using sage to cleanse; others you could use are myrrh, sandalwood, lavender, or cedar. it's completely up to what your preferences are.

air

breathing in and out during meditation, as you take in some air and release it, upon release visualise what you're letting go of.

bells, the frequency of dinging bells helps to disperse bad energy.

sound cleansing through soft music, and intentional frequencies. you'll find alot of these up on youtube.

10. divination methods (aside from tarot/pendulums that i know of)

clouds, observing what you see and the shapes you recognise, what you need to know will be reflected in nature.

ceromancy, candle wax, burning a candle after asking for some clarity or an answer and having the wax form a shape for you to interpret.

numerology, angel numbers, and the significance of the numbers.

automatic writing, done in your personal journal, it's unconscious writing that can help channel messages you may need.

bibliomancy, randomly selecting a passage or words from a book.

capnomancy, the use of smoke from candles or incense, and reading the shapes and forms casted by the smoke

conchomancy, divination through seashells, shapes, and the type of shell.

casting a set of charms on a cloth and divinating the meaning of where they landed.

[shalotttower]

Title: Beneath The Skin Fandom: Far Cry 5 Characters: John Seed x Reader (female) Summary: John discovers a soulmate in one of his faithful after her indoctrination. Word count: 1200+ Notes: soft yandere!John Seed, religious themes, soulmate AU, captivity, obsession, past rough treatment, past torture, brainwashed Reader, John being John, Reader isn't Deputy, I'm depressed so now you'll be too.

You've been staring at him a lot lately. John can't tell if it's a good sign or not. In his experience, silence is usually followed by screaming and begging, not contemplation, but you're quiet and watchful, like a church mouse.

"Tell me what you desire," he says, cupping your face with his palms.

There's no pleading with you. No crying for help from the outside world. He's not used to this quiet acceptance of circumstances.

What John used to is peeling away the layers of flesh, until there's nothing but raw essence underneath. You're still not free of sin. He can see it, plain as day: sloth shines through the cracks of you. He could force it out. Carve the letters into your skin again, one by one, and maybe then you'd finally scream for mercy.

But he doesn't. Joseph told him to be careful with God's gifts, to be patient and endure. So he waits, and so you stare, and the silence stretches in-between.

"Why don't you tell me?" John asks.

He heard long time ago that through desires one's true self becomes visible. He wants to see yours.

"There's nothing to wish for in Eden's Gate, Herald."

There is no venom in your words. There's nothing in your words.

He thinks about patience and endurance, and wonders if the river washed away something essential off you during the baptism, or this docile and meek nature is just who you are.

You'd pass easily as one of Faith's angels, even without the Bliss.

---

John knows that you like to read. You take books from his personal library and he finds them later, stacked in a neat pile on a bedside table. Some nights when he returns to the ranch, you're still awake at the desk with a pair of glasses on the bridge of your nose.

"So that's why," he thought after leafing through your medical file, "you didn't recognize me at the river. They must've fell off during the transportation."

John wears his mark with pride. Not hidden, like Joseph's or Jacob's, but on display. A declaration that he's been chosen by God, that's he's not broken, not ruined — worthy to have a soulmate.

He remembers your expression back then. Confusion. You looked at him, squinting, like you didn't understand, couldn't fathom why would someone do this to you.

And then he dunked you under.

---

"Confession," John murmured. "It sets you free."

"Atonement," he told you later and took a knife to your flesh.

He wanted to make you feel small, insignificant — Deputy kept causing trouble, and temperance never was among his virtues.

"There's nothing more pure than a blank sheet, darling. I'll help you get rid of sin. Don't be afraid, let the pain cleanse you."

And you screamed.

Sloth. Pride. He carved them both and you cried and prayed until your voice broke, but haven't asked him to stop, not once.

After that, you blended into the crowd well, a nobody amongst the sheep not meant to stand out.

---

He didn't know.

Hadn't seen it, caught up in the excitement of the moment.

---

This time when he comes back, you're curled on the bed with a book that doesn't belong to his library. The cover is pale yellow with floral decorations and birds on it, a bit worn. How it came into your hands, John has an idea. There's only one person who likes cheesy romance novels here.

Your foot sways in the air back and forth, gently, like a pendulum.

"Didn't take you for a fan of light reading, my dear. How many maidens have fallen for dashing rascals tonight?"

"Herald John," you greet.

His stomach flips when you look up.

To think that you were one of many who cooked and cleaned around the compound all this time, who lived in the barracks and tended the apple orchards, and no one ever noticed. Who almost slipped through his fingers into the Henbane River, if he wasn't reminded of restraint.

Now you're here, in his room, and John has no idea what to do with you. He's good with words, they always come out naturally, like a weapon in a carefully crafted arsenal, but all seem inadequate when your mark is out there so openly unapologetic.

You're like a doll he's got a hold of: speaks when spoken to and moves when nudged.

He sits on the edge of the bed.

"This doesn't look like approved reading material," John comments idly, but makes no move to take the book away. Books like these aren't banned, simply considered too shallow to nourish a mind. He flipped through one himself and found it hilariously cliche.

"Sister Faith keeps bringing them," you respond. "I...keep them until she picks them up again."

You call his family members by titles rather than names. John suspects it stems from the trials and humility which they bring. Joseph is Father, Faith is Sister, Jacob is...nothing. You don't dare use any monikers with Jacob even though no one would mind now when you're family.

His thumb runs over your ankle. A small white lilly under the fabric of your leggings looks delicate and a bit like a mockery.

God's gifts are bestowed to cherish.

John thinks about the way you trembled during the baptism — sweet, sweet terror.

God's gifts are bestowed to nurture.

"Why didn't you plead with me?"

You pause.

"For what, Herald?"

John wants to shake you. Wants you to scream and glare like Deputy did when he carved the sin upon her body. Little wrathling, full of rage and spite; now Jacob is grooming her as a weapon, and it seems to suit her better than wreaking havoc across the county. Jacob's methods are meticulous and inevitable, brutal but most efficient, and he'll get her where he needs her to be: strong and able, with her fire burning for a better cause.

"Reprieve," John says. "Mercy."

He leans closer and waits, but your eyes travel down to your lap, then to your fingers, entwined together above the pages.

"There was no use."

Your smile is soft and empty, and John gets the feeling of missing a step on a flight of stairs.

"It wouldn't have been enough."

You speak it like a truth carved on stone, something so very evident that even a newborn infant can comprehend. Like the sun is warm, the water is wet, and Herald John Seed doesn't give mercy to sinners — he takes them apart piece by piece so they can start anew without the burden of guilt.

---

Aren't soulmates meant to know each other intimately? Aren't they meant to complete?

Yet there's an absence of him in you and you in him. It's a hollow space between your bodies when you both lie side by side at night, a gaping wound, and it won't go away, no matter how close you curl into his arms or how tight he holds onto you.

He touches you often: strokes your hair while you read books by lamplight, kisses your forehead when you pray before bedtime.

"Tell me what you desire," John asks again.

And again, patiently you reply: "Eden's Gate offers everything I could ever wish for."

---

He wonders what fairy tale romance you will find next week between the pages, and if there will be mercy in it which you didn't find in that bunker.

[nic-mharta]

Just a little more Potential for 2024

Every so often the latest version of this comes around on my dash, and gives me a great reminder to check in on myself and my habits. It started with @shrinkingblonde's “Full Potential Challenge”: a list of self-care checkpoints for every day, broken down by morning, afternoon and evening. Alas, working on that many habits at once woke my “Monster From The Id”’, who immediately panicked. The Monster thinks that, given that my current bad self-care habits correlate with being currently alive, the best chance of staying alive is to change nothing. The Monster isn’t very bright, but it’s powerful.

So I made a minimal list, and took as long as it took to change (three years!), and I made some nice new habits! A year later I rebooted with seven habits to maintain and three new habits to work on. It's now a year and a half after that. Things are changing: I've been diagnosed with ADHD and have medication for that. I've been laid off (again) and am about to start receiving Old Age Security so I guess that counts as "retired". The problematic pastor at our church has been resigned (no, not *that* type of "problematic", but still a problem) so there's more demands from that corner of life.

Changes mean some of the habits I've been working on aren't relevant any more.

EVERY MORNING

Stretch. First thing. Really give your body enough time to wake up. Touch your toes. Roll out your shoulders. Do not hit snooze! (Doing okay!)

Brush your teeth (Doing great!) and floss (well, better than not at all and my dental hygienist is happy)

Drink water. Drink water. Drink water. Drink water!!!!! (Doing better but still needs focus)

Cleanse and moisturize your skin and do at least minimal makeup (Doing great -- and I like the effect)

Minimal Morning Prayer: Urnuigh an Tighearna, Guidhe airson Sith, Guidhe airson Grais (I've struggled with my prayer life for decades. Still struggling. The minimal approach worked with skin care and makeup; maybe it will work here)

EVERY AFTERNOON

Drink water. Drink water. Drink water. Drink water!!!!! (Such a hard habit!)

At least once around the virtual track on the elliptical, one pushup, and 20 situps. (I will not apologize for how wimpy that is. Injuries, age, and undiagnosed but chronic post-exertion malaise mean one must be gentle with oneself. Maybe I can do 21 situps the next time this post comes around.)

EVERY EVENING

mentally review what needs to be done tomorrow, and identify (or find a way to insert) something fun. (doing okay-ish)

Brush, floss, cleanse, moisturize (doing good!)

Drink water. Drink water. Drink water. Drink water!!!!! (See above!)

Crawl into bed at least 7 hours before the alarm is set for.

Eat and drink lightly and stop well before bedtime (coming along).

WEEKENDS are just like weekdays, now that I'm retired.

"Be friendly to friends and strangers. A smile goes a long way" is off the list because it has truly become a habit: I don't even need to think about it. Yay!

Ninety days from today is nothing particularly special, but 89 days from today our local agricultural fair starts (which is a big deal around these parts) so that's the target date for this iteration.

[pinkmoondoll9shihtzu]

hi miss L, i have a spiritual/religious question and i don't know anyone else who could answer it.... since i was a kid i've been attracted to tarot, spirituality, mystical explanations of the worlds workings, astrology, all that good stuff. i never used to connect my spirituality to a single higher power, and i never had any issues with this. for a few years i've been wanting more than just a disturbingly accurate tarot spread and i feel compelled towards god. i'm not sure how to word it honestly! i keep getting messages all around me telling me the saint that watches over me, and that god is there too. so here's my issue.

whenever i reach out and pray or do any kind of ritual or reach out specifically to god or a saint, my life immediately starts going haywire. yesterday i set up a small shrine in my room for my dead kitty since i've been feeling better about her passing and i prayed a little. i asked for sign that i was going in the right direction, and hours after i prayed, our sink plumbing got clogged, my cat (living) ran out and had to be caught, my mom dropped a whole bowl of food, and i wasn't able to pick up groceries bc the bank cards wouldnt work. this never happens in my household, we've been joking that we're cursed. this happens everytime i try to reach out to god. the worst time was when my mom lost her job, dad crashed his car, and i kept having panic attacks out of the blue for a week. i freaked out and took everything i said back and bathed in salt water for hours hoping i could cleanse whatever happened to me. it worked and my life was back to normal the next day.

do you have any advice? i would love to put my trust in a higher power as i've never been religious before, but smthn is going wrong somehow.

thank you for reading, i love seeing you on the dash and your music is so soothing and nostalgic. much love!! <3 <3 <3 <3

so sweet, and caring, thankyou u//u...im sorry things have been difficult :< The following message does not in any way endorse the claim that i understand God, that God could ever be understood, or that any one of us should every try to understand the -inner workings- of God ! purely my feelings v v v

i relate to ur background cus i grew up w no religion, my parents didnt talk about any kind of woo-woo stuff, my dads dad was woo-woo AF and my dad haaaaated it so he rejected all of it so i was pree much just a blank slate. but for some reason i was just REALLY obsessed w magical thinking and the like. believed in god spirits nature deities angels demons magic aliens and i was totaly engrossed in ~my secret world~. i was kinda scared of religion tho i viewed it in a bad light since i was learning about it during the george bush post-9/11 era & for some reason my child self was rly interested in consuming critique of america , iraq war / westboro baptist church type stuff , from an outsider's perspective i saw religion as something american people used as justification for committing atrocities & crazy power trips , which, i mean.. anyways

it didnt help me trust God xD but many of my beliefs remained into my teens i just didnt have any outlet for them. so i got into astrology around 15/16, started learning more about tarot & occultish type things, crytstals, all those subjects intrigued me very much. but i felt the same way as you, like, something was still lacking from it, even when i got these super profound tarot readings, or read my birth chart a million times over looking for clues about ~wtf is this stupid life for~ , i never felt safe. never felt assured, never felt i could trust myself or my future. it was an odd period, early 20s. but then kinda same as u, as my knowledge on these topics expanded i started to notice the quality of Holiness a lot more. the more i learned about different religions the more i realized how connected it all was, and how religion connects to "the occult", and magic, light and dark, i find it very hard to put into words. i just started to find myself actually really earnestly believing in God in a way i never thought i could? Like reading the bible & being completely enthralled, i NEVER woulda thought. i started to feel way safer in the world even tho im still not "christian" technicaly. but i believe in jesus now and it makes me feel safe on a cellular level.

i believe the real jesus was wholly non judgemental and loved everyone no matter what, the thing that susses me out about Religious Institutions was always the judgement that can spawn from it. misses the point of everrything in my opinion.

its kinda wild actually cus when i used to be into like, trash reality tv ghost hunting shows, i remember there was one ep where this psychic was talking about how she always prays to jesus for protection before doing a reading or entering a haunted place. that really intrigued me cus i thought jesus and psychic automatically cancelled each other out. i think that moment rly opened up the rabbitehole and it was so mundane like wtf. still rememebr it tho!

sorry im really in a typing mood tonight.. So my next point was gonna be that, just because i started to really believe in god and jesus and really PRAY for protection & guidance, my life did not get easier xD like i would say the past 6 years have been nothing short of a shit show. my life was fucked before that too tho so its hard to compare, but still, its safe to say my shift in perspective actually brought a lot of chaos into mylife. the point of it, i feel, is that i had to dismantle it in order to truly Live in the frequency of trusting God. because this was new to me! i wanted to trust God, i put out the energy of seeking God, and God was like ok hold on tight..

So now i'm here all these years later like, oh yeah God is real and i love him and it's all real. it's CEMENTED into me lol. When i used to say i trust God it still felt like i was asking permission to be able to feel that way. but now i really really do. And messed up stuff will keep happening forever because there needs to be light & dark, there can't b one without the other. But now i have faith in a really personal way that i wld never attempt to transfer onto another like even by talking about these experiences & concepts i still feel like i don't want to prove anything. except that it's worth it to keep trying, i guess :]

and OK this is really just how i feel like take it with a grain of salt , but from what i've gathered, if you believe in energy entities & astral happenings & whatnot, well. it's my opinion that the invisible low frequency parasites that feed on many ppl's dread & fear, when they're attached to u and u begin to raise your vibration, they get very upset and throw a fit. like think of a demon being exorcised, u know, u imagine it having a total fit in a desperate fight for it's life. if ur appeasing the demon and letting it use you then of course it's going to keep things on an even keel, u kno?

taking a salt bath was a good thing to do tho like one of the best things <3 its also good to have crosses or your holy item of choice around the house, light white candles, organize clutter. pray a lot like every time u feel happy and safe or notice something beautiful say thanku to God.. talk to your angels and encourage them i pray a lot specifically to strengthen them, upgrade their armor n shih...i ask them to work for my loved ones, i try to be concentrated on them, visualize them around me all the time, visualize them standing guard outside every door. i feel this kinda stuff increases ur Holy EXP and over time your spiritual armor gets stronger, bad entities move on and things in life start really flow. the trust just has to b there first, and it will be, so long as u allow it <3

it just takes time, and like i said i dont want to prove anything or be The Convincer, but if u were already having feelings to go down this path i recommend not giving up and let God carry u through those tough situations instead of seeing them as an absence of God or God's Wrath. just keep praying cus it can't hurt right, even if it's just a way to occupy your mind with kind thoughts about your friends and family, there's no downside to prayer. its your own journey so u just gotta live it and feel it out ^^ but pls dont feel u are being punished by God or demons or anything else! So many "bad" things that happen end up being neutral or even "good" in the long run. We can never foresee the reasoning behind God's plan ~~~

yeah, this was a long one, wow...i drank a energy drink 12 hours ago i think it made me hyper.. well have a swell evening if ur reading this anon!! o also i liek to listen to psalms before bed to help me feel calm i feel like it helps bring in angels. i think i will do so now, thanks for the Q i hope things improve for u very soon. Good night anon < 3 3 3 PMD 9

[divine-elixir]

I certainly wouldn’t mind a reading. Mostly to do with my identity as a nonhuman, if I will figure things out, if I am on the right path, etc, etc.

Never had a tarot reading before so I’m curious what will come out of it.

Thank you for the opportunity! =3

— Pandora

Hello hello! I hope I will do justice to your first card reading.

I'm a little rusty, but here we go. I reached into my closet and it seems the deck of choice for this reading are my Sakura cards. Not exactly tarot, but they still do the job.

My way of reading cards are a bit different, but I drew three cards and ended up getting two cards for each draw. Guess they really had something to tell you. (Sorry about the horrible pic quality.)

Your reading is under the cut.

Starting with The Dash and The Sweet. I can read this as one quickly making their way to their goal and relishing in how sweet that sort of victory could be, but in reality one shouldn't depend on that treat being the end goal. Of course, you will be on your way to finding yourself in time. Just keep yourself on track, no need to rush and fight with yourself. Walk if you must, and surely you'll find answers during the journey.

Next, The Hope and The Bubbles. Perhaps you have felt discouraged? I feel that is only a plausible thing to assume when it comes to identity. The heart can easily get discouraged at times, but under all that discouragement should be what you're looking for if you trust yourself. The Bubbles is a card associated with emotion and cleansing, so perhaps taking care of yourself and not focusing so much on what you wish to know can reveal answers in time or something else unexpected.

Lastly, The Maze and The Cloud. Are you perhaps confused? This sort of thing can feel like a maze with no end in sight. Whatever happens moving forward is all up to you. Any decisions you make might lead you to a dead end, but there's no need to stand and stare at the wall. Relax and keep walking. The path ahead may be hard to see, but one could only be lost for so long. The exit shall appear in due time.

All in all, I do think the cards believe you will find yourself. Running through a maze is seldom helpful after all. Pace yourself, and even in the thickest of fogs the door will appear.

With how confined a maze can be, the world outside it is vast. So please don't feel you must confine yourself to one path on the journey. A maze only has so many set paths, but the vastness that is you has no such thing. Carve the open space for yourself or be as the uncarved log. Who knows what direction self discovery will take you.

I do hope this was most helpful to you. And thank you. 😊

[ronkeyroo]

Know what I think is both sad and hilarious? If Verstael hadn't set Ardyn on the path of vengeance as well as absorb Infrit's memories.....he could have been a 2,000 year old hottie just roaming the world with the expression of "i'm so done with this shit". Just this cocktail of depression and a slight lack of empathy with a dash of "fuck off".

Like, "Oh, YOU think you go it bad?! Yes, tell me how you were literally backstabbed back your own brother who also killed your fiance and then turned everyone your ever helped against you to the point they threw rocks and crap at you before being dragged off onto an island where you were left in total isolation for CENTURIES only to be rescued by this short little blond shit speaking gibberish who won't stop poking and proding you in the name of science and war?"

"Ummmm....."

"That's what I thought." The proceeds to just down a bottle of wine before going out to sleep in his car.

He'd be that cynical uncle who has ptsd, depression, and conspiracy theories. Which is ultimately sad and just horrible but like...can you imagine the dialog with other people?!? 😂 Just this whole attitude of, "Oh we're in an apocalypse? Shiiit, drink up and smoke 'em it you got 'em. This is going to be one hell of a ride."

ANON YOU ARE SO RIGHT IT MIGHT AS WELL BE CANON holy FUCK.

Dude his past hurt and resonated with me so fucking much, im still heartbroken. He's been through such unjust shit,,i want to give him everything from the life that was stolen from him to therapy and self care and the meanest- heart cleansing bj for real

i CRINGED SO BADLY when Verst' found him, tortured and alone, after all those years, and literally used Ardyn's pain against him like that. Like If i were Ardyn, i'd still be hot on revenge even if i wasnt manipulated into it, especially after the unforgivable shit somnus pulled out of his ass, but verstael just threw gasoline in those wounds man. Motherfucker literally used him as a weapon for his own gain and I wish someone better was there to find him first...Imagine the POTENTIAL, muah, delicious.

This HC of Ardyn you shared with me is SO well fleshed out and accurate to his character that i can see it ANIMATED and HEAR IT IN HIS VOICE HGGHFNF. Like imagine that half drunk, half spiteful chug of wine at the end of his rant followed by a tipsy head tilt and a dissatisfied, squinting glare before turning away with a "hmph". UGH i love him. I love him in any way. I love him when he's trash jesus and when hes hobo man. Its awful that he suffers in like most of those AU's but i will love him through it all ANYWAYS.

THANK YOU FOR SHARING THIS WONDERFUL BIT, I SHALL BE THINKING OF IT FOR TIME TO COME

[mensskull]

Enigmatic Allure of the Mayhem Skull Necklace

In the realm of fashion and accessories, certain symbols wield an inexplicable power, effortlessly captivating attention and paving the way for boundless self-expression. Enter the Mayhem Skull Necklace, an incomparable statement piece that enthralls bold individuals seeking to make their mark. Prepare to embark on an enthralling journey through time and fashion as we delve into the captivating history, symbolic significance, and contemporary popularity of the Mayhem Skull Necklace, all while discovering invaluable tips to seamlessly infuse it into your personal style.

Delving into the Genesis of the Mayhem Skull Necklace:

To truly appreciate the profound meaning behind the Mayhem Skull Necklace, we must traverse the annals of ancient cultures. Skulls, revered across the globe, have long embodied themes such as mortality, rebellion, and metamorphosis. From the Aztecs of antiquity to the audacious Vikings of medieval times, skulls stood resolute as symbols of resilience, safeguarding, and the eternal cycle of life. Innovatively drawing from these age-old traditions, the Mayhem Skull Necklace amalgamates venerable wisdom with contemporary flair.

Innovatively Versatile Designs and Exquisite Variations:

The intoxicating allure of the Mayhem Skull Necklace knows no bounds, transcending its symbolic nature to embrace a realm of unparalleled versatility. Fashioned from an array of materials, ranging from pristine silver to opulent gold and even resplendent gemstones, these necklaces gracefully accommodate diverse tastes. Be it intricately embellished or elegantly understated, the Mayhem Skull Necklace exalts the discerning fashion connoisseur in you.

Symbolism Meets Unbridled Self-Expression:

Imbued with an enigmatic power, the Mayhem Skull Necklace crystallizes into a dynamic symbol, enabling individuals to fearlessly manifest their innermost essence and rebellious verve. A constant reminder to seize each fleeting moment with unwavering fervor and embrace mortality's embrace, this remarkable necklace challenges the status quo, coaxing wearers to forge their distinctive fashion paths and escape the clutches of conventionality.

From Counterculture to Unrivaled Popularity:

Throughout the epochs, the Mayhem Skull Necklace has shattered boundaries and ascended to the pinnacle of iconic fashion accessories, enfolding the necks of luminaries, musicians, and trailblazing influencers alike. The realm of popular culture ardently embraces this phenomenal trend, solidifying the Mayhem Skull Necklace as the quintessential proclamation of audacity and bold self-expression. Its spellbinding presence radiates through music videos, silver screens, and sartorial masterpieces, nourishing its indomitable presence within contemporary fashion.

Unleashing Your Style Potential: Unmatched Ways to Flaunt the Mayhem Skull Necklace:

Eager to embark on an odyssey of style with the Mayhem Skull Necklace? Discover a myriad of innovative methods to seamlessly integrate this captivating accessory into your fashion repertoire. Whether your heart yearns for nonchalant elegance, audacious edge, or bohemian allure, this versatile icon effortlessly elevates your ensemble. Amplify the charisma of a simple white tee and jeans with a dash of rock 'n' roll, or layer it harmoniously alongside other necklaces to fashion a captivating, eclectic fusion. Empower your creative spirit as you experiment with a plethora of ensembles, allowing the Mayhem Skull Necklace to reign supreme as the pièce de résistance.

Nurturing Your Mayhem Skull Necklace: A Testimony to Timelessness:

Safeguarding the everlasting allure of the Mayhem Skull Necklace entails embracing impeccable care practices. When not adorning your neck, nurture its radiance by entrusting it to the cozy confines of a dry, jewelry box, far from the prying gaze of direct sunlight. Gently cleanse it with a soft cloth and mild soap, meticulously preserving its brilliance and thwarting the encroachment of tarnish. Tenderly cherish this indomitable piece, and its captivating spirit will continue to permeate the fashion landscape for countless years.

Conclusion:

Beyond being a mere fashion accessory, the Mayhem Skull Necklace stands as an emblem of defiant self-expression, an unspoken testament to your untamed individuality. Rooted in the hallowed symbolism of a bygone era, this versatile necklace encapsulates the very spirit of authority, mortality, and personal liberation. As you embark on your wondrous voyage alongside the Mayhem Skull Necklace, eagerly embrace diverse styles, fearlessly exhibiting it as a profound extension of your unique persona. Let this audacious companion unfurl boundaries and ignite intrigue wherever your path meanders.

[willowybee]

Improving Well-being at Home: The Influence of Travel-Friendly Saunas and Saunas During Lent with WillowyBe

It is critical that we keep our fitness and well-being in the fast-paced world of today. Finding time for self-care, however, can regularly experience hard in the face of demanding schedules and day-to-day concerns. Presenting transportable saunas: a trendy way to revel in the blessings of regular sauna remedy in the alleviation of your very own home. And by means of including sauna classes into your fasting regimen, you can bring up your sauna journey to a total new degree with WillowyBe, a pinnacle provider of wellbeing solutions. We'll talk about the advantages of sauna remedy at some stage in fasting, the reworking electricity of transportable saunas, and how WillowyBe is enabling health for humans in Canada, the UK, and Japan in this large blog.

Portable Saunas: Health at Your Pleasure

The way we trip sauna remedy has been absolutely modified by using transportable saunas, which grant a realistic and adaptable way to unwind and revitalise at home. Here's why well-being aficionados are beginning to favour transportable saunas:

Convenience: Many humans are unable to use common saunas due to the want for specialised house and installation. In contrast, Portable Saunas For Home provide the flexibility and comfort that usual saunas do not, as they are easy to set up and use in any room of your house.

Accessibility: You can also experience sauna remedy each time and anywhere you choose with transportable saunas. It's easy to prioritise your well-being on your personal phrases with transportable saunas, whether or not you are the use of them to settle down after a worrying workday or as phase of your every day routine.

Versatility: To in shape your tastes and way of life, transportable saunas are handy in a vary of shapes and sizes. For any kind of vicinity and requirement, there is a transportable sauna available, ranging from small tents to collapsible domes and enormous cabins. You can additionally personalize the points and settings of your sauna periods to meet your private tastes and health objectives.

Health Benefits: Sauna remedy has countless wonderful results on the body, such as diminished stress levels, more suitable circulation, detoxification, and blissful muscles.

Sauna During a Fast: Optimising the Advantages

Recent years have viewed a upward shove in the recognition of intermittent fasting as a strong weight-management, metabolic health, and lifespan technique. Sauna While Fasting has the attainable to enhance the blessings of sauna remedy and detoxification, as properly as promote fats burning and cell renewal. Here's how sauna remedy may decorate your fasting-related well being routine:

Enhanced Detoxification: The body's herbal detoxing mechanisms are caused via fasting, which allows the elimination of waste substances and pollutants.

Accelerated Fat Burning: When a man or woman fasts, their physique enters a country referred to as ketosis, the place they burn fats that has been saved as fuel. By growing the body's core temperature, dashing up metabolism, and encouraging fats burning, sauna remedy aids in this process. Sauna classes can assist you maximise fats loss and extra efficiently attain your weight loss targets when brought to your fasting regimen.

Cellular Rejuvenation: Autophagy, a cell mechanism that eliminates misguided and broken factors from cells, is activated by using fasting, which encourages mobile regeneration and repair. By enhancing oxygenation and circulation, permitting the provide of vitamins and oxygen to cells, and encouraging mobile cleansing, sauna remedy aids in this process. When combined, sauna remedy and fasting can maximise the toughness and fitness of cells, ensuing in multiplied resilience and energy.

Stress Reduction: The physique responds to each sauna remedy and fasting by way of decreasing cortisol levels, merchandising calmness and relaxation, and improving intellectual clarity. You can get synergistic stress-relieving consequences with the aid of combining these techniques, which will help you in feeling mentally and bodily refreshed as properly as calm and centred.

WillowyBe: Your On-the-Go Wellness Companion

At WillowyBe, we suppose that everybody need to be in a position to reap wellbeing, regardless of the place they stay or work. Because of this, we're thrilled to furnish an tremendous decision of well being items and transportable saunas that will enhance your fitness and well-being anywhere you are. What makes WillowyBe special as your go-to aid for well being options is as follows:

High-quality substances and professional craftsmanship go into the advent of our transportable saunas, which are made with your remedy and comfort in mind. Our saunas are built with super sturdiness and overall performance in mind, with elements that are handy to customize and intuitive controls.

Technology & Innovation: At WillowyBe, we're devoted to last on the slicing side of health technology, usually searching for the latest trends to enhance your sauna experience. We encompass slicing aspect applied sciences into our saunas to optimise your journey and outcomes, whether or not it is chromotherapy lighting, infrared heating technology, or state-of-the-art manage systems.

Professional Advice: Throughout your health journey, our crew of well being experts is reachable to help you at each turn. We can provide you individualised recommendation and assist to assist you attain your objectives, whether or not your queries are concerning sauna therapy, fasting regimens, or how to comprise fitness practices into your day-to-day routine.

Global Accessibility: WillowyBe makes it easy for human beings all over the world to get exceptional health gadgets and journey the life-changing doable of sauna therapy, with delivery accessible to Canada, the UK, Japan, and beyond. We are right here to assist you attain your biggest attainable and attain new heights in wellness, no count number the place you are.

Why Opt for WillowyBe?

Quality Assurance: When you buy from WillowyBe, you can be certain that you are getting most fulfilling substances and specialist craftsmanship that will remaining a lengthy time and characteristic noticeably well.

Customer pride is our pinnacle priority, and we work tough to go above and past your expectations with every and each product and carrier we provide. Our first intention is assisting you on your well-being journey, and we're right here to assist you alongside the way.

Innovation and Excellence: We at WillowyBe are dedicated to innovation and excellence, constantly searching for sparkling tactics to raise your excellent of existence and well being experience.

Global Accessibility: WillowyBe makes it easy for human beings to order from somewhere in the world.

[organicrosehipskin]

colon cleanser tea

Ahoy there, tea enthusiasts and adventurous sippers! Let's dive into the world of colon cleanser tea with the enthusiasm of a tea-loving pirate on a quest for the perfect blend. Imagine a tea that not only tickles your taste buds but also gives your insides a gentle, refreshing hug. That's right, we're talking about the delightful and slightly mischievous colon cleanser tea.

Sailin' through the Tea Waves:

Picture yourself on a cozy ship, sailing through the vast ocean of tea possibilities. Colon cleanser tea, with its herbal allure, is like a treasure chest waiting to be discovered. It's not just a tea; it's a voyage for your taste buds and a gentle cleanse for your digestive ship.

Ingredients that Tango:

What makes this tea so special, you ask? Well, it's all about the dance of ingredients in the tea party of your cup. Think soothing herbs like peppermint and chamomile joining forces with a dash of senna and licorice root. It's like a lively gathering of botanical buddies ready to soothe your stomach and get things moving in the most delightful way.

The Gentle Nudge:

Colon cleanser tea is like that friendly mate who gives you a gentle nudge when you need it most. Senna, the secret weapon in this tea party, is known for its natural laxative properties. But fear not, it's not here to cause chaos; it's here to keep things sailing smoothly through your digestive waters.

A Symphony of Flavors:

Now, let's talk taste. Imagine the symphony of flavors playing in your cup—minty freshness from peppermint, a hint of sweetness from licorice root, and the subtle earthiness of chamomile. It's a flavor explosion that not only tantalizes your taste buds but also leaves a refreshing sensation as it meanders down your throat.

Brewing Magic:

Brewing colon cleanser tea is like conjuring a potion in a cauldron, minus the eye of newt. Grab your favorite teapot, toss in a colon-cleansing tea bag, and let the magic begin. As it steeps, the herbs release their herbal orchestra, creating a potion that's not only delicious but also promises a digestive adventure.

The Digestive Odyssey:

As you sip this magical elixir, imagine your digestive system doing a happy dance. The combination of herbs in colon cleanser tea is like a gentle breeze that guides your digestive ship through calm waters. It's not about sudden gusts or storms; it's about a smooth and delightful journey for your tummy.

Tea Time Rituals:

Make colon cleanser tea a part of your daily tea time rituals. It's not just about the cleanse; it's about embracing a moment for yourself. Imagine sitting by the window, cup in hand, sipping on the elixir of botanical goodness while the world outside continues its hustle. It's a tea time escapade that adds a playful twist to your routine.

Caution: Not a Pirate's Brew:

A playful note of caution – while this tea is a fantastic addition to your daily rituals, it's not the secret potion for pirates searching for eternal youth. Moderation is the key, me hearties! Too much of a good thing, even in the tea world, can lead to unexpected adventures.

In the end, colon cleanser tea is not just about cleansing; it's about savoring the playful journey of flavors and embracing a moment of self-care. So, set sail on your tea adventure, brew a cup of colon cleanser tea, and let the botanical magic unfold in your teacup. Here's to playful sipping and digestive delights!

[tapiocalatte]

"My life is Green. What color is yours?" An original poem by me.

Green is the grass under our feet. It floods the cloudy mind with earth, and reminds the soul of its simple worth.

Green is the tree which we sit beneath. Its shade cools the fatigued self, its fruit harvested to give us health.

Green is the tea we sip to drink. Bathed in its warmth and flavor, we feel invigorated, primed with fervor.

Green is the emerald for which we yearn. Its glassy brilliance is simply divine, though despite common simile, it reflects, not shines.

Green is the envy. If we are to talk of reflections, one often compares to others. But one's appearance should matter not to a stranger, friend, or lover.

Green is the vomit. The wretch of self admittance of sickness. The scratching claws of your own deprecative weakness.

Green is the soap you use to wash it all away. Cleanse the body and mind, day by day to yourself you must be kind.

Green is the fourth color of the rainbow. You're as bright and beautiful as light, that you have to believe. For if you do then the truth it will come to be.

Green is the traffic light telling you to go. We can do it, we can shout it, it's time to move! A journey of self love and ass kicking, it's ours to prove!

Green is the grass we run on today. It whistles in the wind, and carries with it any past sin.

Green is the tree we climb to its top. There's a view most splendid for those who are brave, we're seeing the real world this time, no more allegorical cave.

Green is the tea we drink to refresh. It's iced, tasty, sweet like honey, and a dash of mint. The perfect way to settle down after an exciting stint.

Green is the emerald I hold in my fist. It represents confidence, and I've earned its luster. I believe everyone can. After all, they come in clusters.

Green is the snake, coiled around its prey. With such a tight grip, all it has to do is wait. For the spoils it has won, there is zero escape.

Green is the United States dollar. A manifestation of wealth, work, and power. The goalpost that any struck by greed or need yearn to devour.

Green is the parrot, depending on the species. Wise and well learned, this bird can soar. With the proper care, we too can hold those feats, most sure.

Green is chlorophyll. The lifeblood providing sustenance of our plantlike friends. To which we harvest and consume in a cycle without end.

Green is swamp water. Murky and disgusting, it's foul as the human soul. Though much like the same, endless potential for life and growth is what it holds.

Green is the grass in our own garden. The hub of creativity, spark, and cultivation in our home. And so we build, sow, and water. After all, when in Rome.

Green is the tree that towers over the house. It's aged our entire lives, and will do much the same after death. Its sturdy progress reflects a life well lived, spent in vigor and jest.

Green is the tea one sips when they're sick. The aroma and contents built for remedy can ease the heart and body of any malady.

Green is the emerald city, the destination for which we walk. Folklore tells of a magic that can give us the boon we seek. Though throughout the journey, I believe within ourselves we hold all the power to reach the peak.

Green is the shattered dust on the floor. For I have dropped the confidence I held in my palm. That power is held within us, a true reflection of the soul's song.

Green is the Rowlet plushie I cuddle to bed. It's shaped like a friend, and soft like one too. I'm glad I have something to hug, and I hope you do too.

Green is not a creative color. Now if you're scared you might not want to be hugged. Often times those with paranoia very much want not to be bugged.

Green is the color of copper sulfate fire. Now we can't use that, but the warmth should subsist. Regardless of fear, everyone should feel that when gone, they will be missed.

Green is a primary color. And every individual is the primary person in their own life. Be it appearance, personality, or ability, to one's self they should offer grace and love, not hatred or strife.

[your-dietician]

Gracie Abrams’s Guide to Skin Icing and Treating Adult Acne

New Post has been published on https://medianwire.com/gracie-abramss-guide-to-skin-icing-and-treating-adult-acne/

Gracie Abrams’s Guide to Skin Icing and Treating Adult Acne

Vogue Club members were first to view this story: Join today to experience exclusive Vogue content before anyone else.

Whether at home in Los Angeles or touring with Olivia Rodrigo, Gracie Abrams likes to self-soothe with skin care. But it hasn’t always been that way. 

“My skin-care journey has been a very interesting one,” says Abrams. Despite growing up without any skin issues, the 23-year-old singer-songwriter began experiencing cystic acne when her anxiety intensified before starting college. After recalibrating her routine to treat her flare-ups, she gained a new appreciation for skin care. “It’s something I can do that feels like a tangible way to be taking care of myself,” she explains. “It’s kind of like giving your brain a little moment of rest, and sometimes small distractions like this are really nice.”

Each morning, Abrams’s regimen begins not with a skin-care product but rather an ice cube, used as a face-massage tool to quell morning puffiness. “My mom would suggest putting ice behind my ears and on my wrists when I was little because I would get anxious and nauseous,” she says. “So ice has been my friend for a very long time.” After skin icing, she cleanses with a salicylic-acid-infused face wash, followed by a sequence of hydrators and a face-rolling session. 

While Abrams incorporates preventative treatments to address her adult acne, she doesn’t try to control her acne. Better yet, she embraces it. “Acne doesn’t bother me as much now as it used to,” says Abrams, who used to cake on heavy makeup in an attempt to veil her blemishes. “The truth is [that] no one ever notices it as much as you do.” For more natural, lit-from-within coverage, she preps skin with Tom Ford’s primer for illumination and Saie’s Slip Tint for sun protection—the latter of which, she notes, is a TikTok discovery that has changed her life. Next, Laneige’s sleeping mask nourishes her lips, while the Egyptian Magic cream moisturizes her body.

Inspired by her mother and the effortless beauty of her musical heroes Fiona Apple and Joni Mitchell, Abrams gravitates toward minimalist makeup. A few swipes of Westman Atelier’s stick foundation and NARS’s creamy concealer even out her complexion, while a dash of blush, contour, and Chanel’s highlighter balm supply definition and shine. Abrams’s gaze is enhanced simply with just a stroke of eyeliner and curled lashes. After painting on a mauvy pink lip, she brushes through her brows with Anastasia Beverly Hills’s styling wax and dots her face with faux freckles using the Freck pen. Finally, a spritz of Living Proof texture spray enhances her naturally tousled waves, while a cloud of Chanel and Le Labo fragrances helps her achieve her signature scent. And with that Abrams signs off with some feel-good wishes: “I hope you’re happy, healthy, safe, hydrated, loving your friends and family, [and] yourself.”

Read full article here

[nic-mharta]

Just a little more Potential for 2023

Every so often the latest version of this comes around on my dash, and gives me a great reminder to check in on myself and my habits. It started with @shrinkingblonde's “Full Potential Challenge”: a list of self-care checkpoints for every day, broken down by morning, afternoon and evening. Alas, working on that many habits at once woke my “Monster From The Id”’, who immediately panicked. The Monster thinks that, given that my current bad self-care habits correlate with being currently alive, the best chance of staying alive is to change nothing. The Monster isn’t very bright, but it’s powerful.

So I made a minimal list, and took as long as it took to change (three years!), and I made some nice new habits! A year ago I rebooted with three new habits to work on (and seven established habits to maintain). And I’m doing pretty well, but life is throwing me some curve balls. And it’s a nice new ecclesiastic year, so I’m going to see what habits I can refresh, rebuild, or adopt between now and Lent. And we’ll see how that goes!

EVERY MORNING

Stretch. First thing. Really give your body enough time to wake up. Touch your toes. Roll out your shoulders. Do not hit snooze! (Doing okay!)

Brush your teeth and floss. (Doing great!)

Drink water. Drink water. Drink water. Drink water!!!!! (Why is this so hard?)

Cleanse and moisturize your skin and do at least minimal makeup (Was doing okay; needs a bit of a reboot!)

Now until Lent: Morning prayer was doing okay while I was doing part-time volunteer work. Having an office job is getting in the way of my prayer life. I need to figure out some creative way to maintain a healthy prayer life in a busy schedule. I’m open to suggestions.

EVERY AFTERNOON

Drink water. Drink water. Drink water. Drink water!!!!! (See above!)

Be friendly to friends and strangers. A smile goes a long way. (Doing great!)

Now until Lent: Walk once around the industrial park at lunchtime. Maybe pray while walking? I’ll need to get into work a little earlier, hence get up a little earlier, hence go to bed a little earlier, to make this work and still get in 8 hours at the office and still be home in time for my tutoring job.

EVERY EVENING

mentally review what needs to be done tomorrow, and identify (or find a way to insert) something fun. (doing okay-ish)

Brush, floss, cleanse, moisturize (how do you get waterproof mascara off, anyway?). (doing okay-ish)

Drink water. Drink water. Drink water. Drink water!!!!! (See above!)

Crawl into bed at least 7 hours before the alarm is set for.

Now until Lent: Eat and drink lightly and stop well before bedtime to avoid reflux.

EVERY WEEKEND (yeah, this whole routine needs work!)

Drink water. Drink water. Drink water. Drink water!!!!!

Choose, iron, find, wash, lay out -- whatever it takes -- clothes for the coming week.

Sew something for myself, or bake something fancy for fun

Track your progress.

#90dtg #NowUntilLent

[charmingyong]

Pink Mountains

Pink chrysanthemums represent longevity and carry feelings of gentle affection, attraction, and romance, making them a great choice for first date and new love.

Definition of mountain boy: A shy boy who lives in secret, living a very good life and doesn’t let anyone push him down. His only weakness is the girl he falls in love with.

Genre: mountain boy!Taeyong x writer fem!reader, fluff (like a lot), bit of humour, pinch of angst

Warnings: scary story being told

Word count: 7k

Plot: You were in need for some new air to unleash creativity for the sake of your career. Going on a journey with your assistant Haechan, you ended up in a situation that had you colliding with a cute mountain boy... all because of the sheep.

A/N: Part of No More Roses collab hosted by @cosmiclatte28​. Turns out NCT 127’s Amino Acid sounds so nice with this story.

- ❀ -

You crouched down, getting closer to the head of the flower. The densely clustered pink florets on the flower head won your heart over the rest of the varieties growing on the flower farm.

“Noona!”

You looked up and found Haechan running to you. Standing up, you dusted the back of your denim shorts, your hiking boots slightly covered with specks of dirt. “Any luck?” you asked.

He shook his head, bending over and panted for air. “No.”

Humming, you looked around the area. You were standing in the midst of a huge flower field, and no one was in sight. A small house was located at the far end and so your assistant took up the task to search for the farm owner. Unfortunately, they didn’t appear to be available. You wanted to request a bouquet of pink and white flowers, particularly highlighting on the mums that had caught your attention.

Your gaze lurked around the mountains faraway, the destination of interest before getting side tracked by the beautiful floral land. Recently, you lacked inspiration and motivation to write or come up with creative ideas, and it greatly frustrated you. Haechan came up with a perfect solution of trekking among the wilderness to get your mind off the stress and for your physical well-being after having been glued to your desk for so long.

“I guess we’ll just try again when heading home,” you said. Your trip consisted of hiking for a couple of days and staying at a hotel for the night located nearby. You were only travelling on the peaks for however long you wanted before returning for the accommodation to rest. You weren’t craving to reach the end of the expedition but were doing it to cleanse your inner body for self-empowerment.

- ❀ -

“Hyung!” Taeyong jumped to his feet and jogged towards his brother who just walked into their small home. “Can I go out now?”

Taeil nodded. “Make sure to keep an eye on Dalmi.”

The younger one beamed and nodded, jittery on his feet and ready to burst out of the small cabin.

Taeil chuckled quietly and ruffled his baby brother’s hair, making Taeyong let out a small squeal. “Okay, go. Be careful out there and don’t get hurt.”

“Thanks, hyung!” Taeyong shouted over his shoulder and was out the door in seconds. His eyes gazed upward and shielded his head with a hand as the sun beat down, smiling at the wonderful afternoon sky decorated with fluffy clouds. “Alright, Dalmi. Let’s see how you’re doing, girl,” he muttered to himself and dashed for where he would find the German shepherd guarding the sheep flock.

-

“Left or right?” you asked.

Haechan observed the two paths at the fork. “Left looks promising, but right one seems interesting.”

You huffed. “That doesn’t help.”

He spotted stones off to the side and picked two up of different sizes. Haechan outstretched both his arms towards you, fists closed. “Let the stones decide. The big stone for left path and small one for right.”

Your finger pointed towards his left hand, and he uncurled both of his fists. The stone of your selection was smaller than the other one.

“Well then,” Haechan chucked the stones away, dusting the dirt off his palms. “We’re going right.”

After a while into the trek, the sun had reached its highest in the sky. You thought you were going to see more dirt, stones and trees, but what laid before your eyes was something you never thought you’d see in person.

“Oh my goodness! Are those sheep?” your voice came out loud and laced in disbelief. A flock of sheep was confined within a large, fenced pasture.

Haechan panted for breath and dropped his body to the ground for rest, plopping on top of the only backpack that he was responsible for between the two of you. His eyes landed on what you were staring at and nodded. “It is,” he muttered faintly while gasping for air.

Your hands itched to pet the adorably harmless animal and so without any fear, your feet shuffled into a near sprint for the fencing.

Taeyong arrived at the perimeter of the sheep pasture right in time to find a couple of strangers at another end. He observed the young boy who looked like he was ready to pass out, and then shifted his attention to you fast approaching the prohibited area.

Both him and Taeil raised Dalmi to protect the sheep as its location was bound to have hikers stumble upon it. So you trespassing the barrier into a space where the German Shepherd was not going to be happy to see you in made him feel uneasy. Usually, other trekkers would slowly approach the field and before they’d get too close, Dalmi would do her job by scaring them off with her barks.

What would Dalmi do in your situation? More than just bark.

Your eyes were fixed solely on the white fluffy sheep and were almost halfway to them... until you heard the sound of a dog barking. Your steps slowed to a stop and your head whipped around to find the guardian of the flock coming for you at full speed. You were usually chill with dogs, never having encountered a problem with them. But when bigger breeds, especially ones that snarled angrily like the way this one did, you had a bad feeling that you were in big trouble.

Haechan realized the danger and screamed for you. “Noona! What the hell are you standing there for? Get the hell out!” He shot to his feet and began darting for the pasture.

But you couldn’t. Your body refused to listen to your assistant when your eyes were wide in fear while staring at the incoming danger. This was going to be the end of your so-called self-empowerment expedition.

“Noona, move!” Haechan yelled with his neck turning red.

Taeyong was already on his way for you, making a full sprint to save you from Dalmi.

You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the worst. Just when the barks from the dog were loud enough to have physically attacked you in a second, you felt a body ram into you, making you both fall hard to the ground with them on top of you, shielding you from the dog. If Haechan were on top of you, then the dog wouldn’t be standing beside you growling like the way it did.

It would have bitten both of you.

And Haechan wouldn’t tackle you to the ground like that. He would have taken your hand and dragged you out of the fenced land.

When you confusedly opened your eyes, your breath was taken away by a pair of big brown eyes, wholly captivating you as if you were saved by a prince from a fairy tale. Your heart pounded furiously the more the cute boy gawked at you innocently, neither of you bothering to move from the position.

Taeyong’s eyes were wide as a maddening blush crept up to his cheeks by the intimacy. Not once in his life had he ever get close with a girl, let alone be on top of one like the way he currently was. He snapped out when he heard the young boy call for you. “Noona!”

Taeyong turned his head to look at Dalmi and shot up to his feet, quickly hugging her in a way to stop her from moving an inch near you. “Sorry,” he uttered timidly to you, avoiding your eyes while hoping that you couldn’t hear how loud his heart thumped for you.  

You blinked at him and sat up on the grass. By then, Haechan had caught up to you. “Noona, are you okay?” he asked, and pulled you up to your feet, shaking off the bits of grass that clung to your hair which was the least of your worries.

Still dazed by what you had experienced, less about the dog and more the beautiful boy, you only hummed with a nod.

Haechan faced Taeyong and bowed profusely. “We’re so sorry about this. Noona, say something! Else, he could sue us for trespassing his property!” he told you.

You snapped back into your senses. “Oh yes. Really, I didn’t mean to do any harm. I only wanted to pet the sheep. They looked so cute. I’m sorry...” You ended your slight rambling with puppy eyes and a pout that made Taeyong’s heart flutter. “Thank you for saving me,” you smiled kindly at him. You couldn’t believe he saved you despite you being a stranger that lurked into his pasture.

Taeyong’s ears tipped red by your gratitude. “S’okay,” he responded, brushing it off like it was nothing he did there.

Haechan shook his head. “No, seriously though. That was some heroic dive he did there, putting his body between you and the dog. He was like a bullet when he ran to save you.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Woah, for me? You are a really nice person. What’s your name?”

Taeyong pressed his lips together as he shied a little from your compliment. “Taeyong,” he answered softly.

You smiled tenderly at him, making his heart ready to combust. “Thank you, Taeyong. I’m Y/N.”

He met your gaze fully, your name sounding like music to his ears. “Hi Y/N,” he spoke ever so softly like he was in awe of your beautiful eyes. You noticed it and felt a slight heat rush to your cheeks. This time you went shy.

Haechan flailed his arms to get Taeyong’s attention. “And I’m Haechan!” he introduced himself loud and dramatic, which made Taeyong shake out of his daze, returning a quick smile to him.

Taeyong remembered the reason for your entry and suggested, “Um, you can pet the sheep. They won’t harm you.”

Nodding, you knew that. The sheep were defenseless. The issue was the other animal that led you into the mess. “Yeah but...” you trailed off, looking at the dog that kept snarling and growling at you.

Taeyong realized your concern. “Don’t worry about Dalmi. I’ll keep her away.”

Haechan’s face brightened and turned to the dog, bending down to her level. “Oh, so your name is Dalmi. How cute,” he tried to coo in efforts to befriend her, but she only barked loudly at his face. Startled, Haechan fell backward onto his butt. “Oh my God, she’s feisty.”

Taeyong nodded. “Dalmi isn’t the type to socialize with strangers. She’s very loyal to her owners.”

Your brows raised. “Owners? Oh, do you live with someone?”

“Yeah, Taeil, my older brother. He’s my only family.”

You hummed at his response and wondered how his lifestyle was like. “Do you mind if you showed us around here?”

-

Taeil handed you and Haechan prepared cups of mountain tea, a special herb only grown on elevated levels. You thanked him and took a small sip of the earthy and floral tea, your lips tilting upward at the flavour. “This is really good. It has this mild sweet taste I like.”

Taeil smiled at your comment. “It’ll taste even better with some honey and cinnamon. Right now’s the perfect season for mountain tea. I can pack you some to take home. It’s a great herbal medicine as well.”

You gasped at him at his astonishingly kind gesture. “That would be amazing. Thank you so much!”

Taeil nodded and looked at his younger brother. Taeyong couldn’t remove his eyes from you as he stood shyly off to the side while you and your assistant sat side by side on the chairs with Taeil sitting across from you.

Your eyes skimmed around their cabin, small yet cozy and rustic style with simple wooden furniture everywhere. “You have a nice home. It must be fun living on the mountains,” you complimented genuinely. It was a stark contrast to your modern luxurious loft back home, and you liked that their home was practically in touch with mother nature.

Taeil’s lips curved up slightly as he painfully recalled his late mother’s wish. “Thank you, Y/N.”

You noticed the tone in his voice not being as bright as before, and then recollected your words, realizing what you had said. “Oh... it must be lonely for you guys, isn’t it?”

Taeil looked down at his lap and let out a quiet sigh. “Our mother passed away after giving birth to Taeyong. I’ve raised Taeyong myself, feeding him, taking him to a nearby town for school. But he keeps to himself, not making many friends. He’s too shy to interact with trekkers, only keeping watch from a distance to make sure the sheep aren’t harmed and Dalmi doesn’t hurt anyone.” Pausing briefly, he shifted his eyes to look at Taeyong. “I’m surprised Taeyong went as far as bringing you to our home,” he commented with a soft smile.

Taeyong met his hyung’s gaze and looked away quickly, gulping down the emotions threatening to burst from his heart.

Your lips formed an ‘oh’ while listening to their lonely life, your heartstrings tugging especially upon learning the way Taeyong lived his life. “I can see why Taeyong grew up to have a very beautiful soul. It’s all thanks to you,” you smiled sincerely at Taeil and then turned your head to look at the timid boy.

Taeyong fidgeted with his fingers as he stole a risky glance for you, his heart thumping louder when seeing your angelic smile for him.

- ❀ -

Haechan let out a childish whine as his grip on the backpack straps loosened. “Why couldn’t I stay back with Taeil and give him company?” he complained.

You rolled your eyes at him, following Taeyong’s lead easily. “And you said I needed to move around. Clearly, you need it more than me.”

“You’re the one that sells stories! Your brain needs more oxygen than me. Plus, I’m the only one carrying a bag!”

Taeyong stopped to give the younger boy a break. Taeil had suggested his brother to show them around the mountains, more specifically the secret views located off the normal trail. Taeyong had already shown you and Haechan a special stream of water flowing down the mountain, so clean that it was perfect for drinking. You were amazed by how wonderful it tasted, especially when it was Taeyong’s hands that were cupped to let you sip the water he collected. Taeyong smiled ecstatically while leading you to the next attraction. “We’re almost there,” he informed you, lending a hand to you at a challenging step.

Gracefully smiling at the gesture, you grabbed his hand and pulled yourself up, your heart alighting at the simple touch. “Great! Let’s get there already. Haechan will catch up when he’s ready.”

Haechan scoffed. “Now you’ll leave me behind to become the bear’s dinner?”

Taeyong shook his head and helped the young boy up. “Don’t worry. There’s no bears here. At least not on this path.”

After you and Taeyong resumed hiking, Haechan grew worried in case the bears were feeling adventurous and gathered up his strength to follow you quickly. “Wait for me!”

From a distance, you spotted a wide field of colours covering the grass and realized what Taeyong had led you to. “Woah...” you breathed out.

Taeyong grinned, ecstatic to show you something so mesmerizing. He walked closer to the wildflowers and crouched down to the floral level. “There’s pink mountain heathers, paintbrushes that hummingbirds love, spring beauties, and subalpine daisies.”

Your eyes drank in the beauty of the wildflowers thriving on the mountains, particularly your gaze landing on the pink mountain heathers, its colour nearly resembling the pink chrysanthemums located at the base of the mountains. “They’re so beautiful,” you murmured breathlessly, making Taeyong pleased to have shown you the rare beauties.

Haechan puffed hard and looked up at the sky. “It looks like the sun will go down soon.”

You forcibly removed your eyes from the delicate beauties and sadly agreed. “We should start heading back for the accommodation. We’ll come back tomorrow,” you smiled at Taeyong, hoping that you would at least see him again one more time before heading back home.

Taeyong didn’t want to part from you just yet, but he couldn’t be selfish. He would just have to wait for tomorrow to see you one more time. “Okay, but the sun will go down really fast. Will you be okay to find your way down? Should I come with you?”

You shook your head frantically. “No, please don’t. I don’t want to trouble you. I’m sure Haechan and I will find our way down. Right, Haechan?” You turned to your assistant and waited for a confirmation.

Haechan put his hand in his pocket, his expression changing to panic when he couldn’t locate his phone. He checked all his pockets and even got down to check inside the backpack, not finding the device anywhere. His hands went up to his hair in stress. “I don’t know where my phone is,” he admitted, his voice laced in stress. “We need flashlight.”

If Haechan had dropped his phone somewhere on the mountain, then it was nearly impossible to backtrack every step to search for it, especially after taking paths without any markings. Fishing out your phone from your pocket, you said, “Don’t worry. I’ll get you a new one. I can use the flashlight on my phone.” After multiple attempts to switch your phone on, you realized that your phone was dead and asked your assistant for the portable bank.

Chuckling nervously, Haechan said, “I don’t have it.”

You gaped at him. “How do you not have that?”

“I thought we’d be at the hotel before needing it!” he defended.

You groaned quietly. “Fine, I’ll just charge at the cabin.” You turned to Taeyong to ask if that was fine until you noticed the blank look on his face.

“We don’t have electricity,” he confessed gently.

-

Taeyong led you back to the cabin just in time before it got pitch dark, the cabin being dimly lit by lanterns. “Hyung!” He called out for his brother as he stepped inside.

Taeil appeared from the kitchen and his eyes landed on you and Haechan. “Oh, you’re still here?”

Taeyong nodded. “Yeah, they need light to get down the mountain. Where’s the flashlight?”

The older brother thought for a moment, not being able to recall the last spot he placed it. “I don’t remember. We hardly use that since we don’t go out at night much.”

You panicked. “What? Wait, so we’re stuck with going down the mountains in the dark? No way, I’m not doing that.” The safety hazard was real without any light source and not seeing what would be ahead of you. One wrong footing and the next thing you’d know was that you were injured, or dead.

“What’s gonna happen to our hotel reservation?” Haechan asked. “You already paid for it!”

Your feet tapped repeatedly out of agitation and pressed your lips together tightly, a crease visible between your brows. Money was the least of your concern. You simply wanted a safe place to rest for the night. How were you going to get that?

Taeyong’s heart cracked when seeing your panic. He turned to his brother, silently pleading him to help you in any way.

Smiling, Taeil offered, “You can stay here for the night.”

-

The campfire crackled as you sat on a log near it, the fire warmly lighting up the vicinity. Taeyong came to you from behind and draped a blanket over your form. You looked at him over your shoulder. “Oh, thank you, Taeyong,” you muttered with your heart going fuzzy at the warm gesture.

He smiled in return and sat down on a log adjacent to yours next to his brother who had prepared the campfire. Taeil watched Taeyong sit down beside him and noticed a blush on the younger one’s cheeks.

Haechan plopped down beside you, his hands occupied with a warm cup of tea that Taeyong had prepared for him. “So you guys just stare at the fire for some time and go to sleep?” Haechan asked and took a sip of his tea, releasing a satisfying sigh.

Nodding, Taeil added, “Sometimes we stargaze, play games, I even tell Taeyong some stories.”

Haechan’s face brightened at the mention of stories. “Oh, do you have any scary mountain stories to share with us?” he asked Taeil.

You arched an eyebrow at him. “Scary mountain stories?”

“Yeah! Like any rumours around the mountains that people are spooked out about?” he asked the Tae brothers.

Taeyong never heard of any shared by his brother and much to Haechan’s disappointment, Taeil shook his head. “No, I haven’t heard of any.”

With a huff, Haechan put his half-finished cup down on the ground and clasped his hands together. “Well then, let me enlighten you all of one. Have you heard of the legend of Spearfinger?” Haechan asked.

Taeyong shook his head with a small pout while Taeil answered, “Never heard of that.”

You rolled your eyes. “Probably not real then.”

Haechan shushed you. “Decide whether it’s real or not after I tell you the legend.”

Exhaling out of your nose, you turned your body to face him and paid full attention to him.

Haechan cleared his throat, getting ready to tell the spooky tale. “There’s a monster who lurks around the peaks of the mountains named Spearfinger. A shape-shifting witch who has a long blade on her forefinger and could take form of many creatures like a fox, bear, bird, even as an old woman.”

Your confident upright form deflated a little. It wasn’t scary just yet, but you were worried in which direction it was heading.

“Know what she feeds off of?” he asked you.

You shook your head.

He smirked ominously. “Human livers.”

You gasped quietly as chills crept up your spine.

“She would stalk her prey through the mountains. She could take the shape of a known person in the village.” Haechan stopped and looked at the three of you listening to him. “Who knows if she’s among us?”

You released a small noise of fear and hugged the blanket more tightly, curling yourself into a ball.

Haechan continued. “Nowadays, hikers get spooked by the sound of leaves rustling or being watched from afar because was it a squirrel that passed by or...” He paused to add a dramatic effect. “Was it Spearfinger?”

Your heart got stuck in your throat as you no longer feeling the calming effects of sitting by the campfire. All you wanted to do was go home to your comfy luxe bed, not be stuck in the wilderness for a potential shape-shifting witch to devour your vital organ. “Is this actually true?” Your voice was faint and weak, wholeheartedly scared for your life.

Taeyong noticed your fear throughout the story-telling and longed to comfort you any way that made you feel safe. Never in his life had he ever been afraid of anything in the wilderness, thanks to his brother teaching him all the essentials early in his life. So he knew there was nothing to be afraid of. “Don’t worry, Y/N. You’re safe here,” he reassured, hoping it could provide some relief.

Taeil offered for you and Haechan to sleep inside while the brothers slept outdoor by the fire. You rustled the sheets on the upper part of the bunk bed, the story still haunting you as if the Spearfinger was just centimeters away.

Haechan called you from below. “Noona, are you awake?”

You let out a long breath. “Yeah, thanks to you,” you muttered. You heard Haechan move underneath you and wondered why he asked you. “What is it?” you asked.

But he didn’t answer.

“Haechan?”

Suddenly, it was pin-drop silent and you had a bad feeling for what could be coming your way.

“This isn’t funny, Haechan. Don’t you dare try to pull something,” you warned him.

Still silent.

Sitting up on the bed, you shifted to take a peek over to see what Haechan was doing in his bed. But right before you could, Haechan shot his head up and went “Boo!” with eyes wide like saucers. He had been waiting on the stairs sneakily to scare you at the right time.

Usually, something like that would only have you startled and clutching your heart from the small scare. But adding up the tension from the scary story, you let out a long high-pitched scream.

Taeyong jolted up from the ground, rubbing his sleepy eyes when hearing your scream from inside the cabin, while Taeil pretended to continue sleeping. “I’m sure it’s because of Haechan,” he told his little brother, well aware of the mischievousness the young boy had in his eyes when telling the tale earlier.

Taeyong’s eyes were glued to the front door, wondering if he should go inside and check up on you or not, but that wasn’t necessary when it suddenly bursted open and you stormed right out. Your stomps softened when realizing that the owners of the cabin were outside and one of them was fast asleep, at least that was what you thought.

You sheepishly smiled at Taeyong and went to sit on a log near him. Taeyong cleared his throat and asked, “Are you okay? What happened?”

Letting out a constrained groan, you told him, “Haechan decided to scare me while I’m already...” you trailed off wondering if you sounded like a scaredy cat. “Sorry,” you mumbled, hanging your head low.

Taeyong shook his head feverishly. “No, don’t say sorry. There’s nothing to be sorry about. As long as you’re okay.”

You scoffed. “I wonder if I will be with the way my night is going. I’m too scared to sleep.” Just then, you heard something rustle from afar and you panicked, going into full alert mode as your heart raced. “What was that?”

Both you and Taeyong knew that it was only the leaves swaying due to the slight wind, but you couldn’t help thinking that it could be the damn Spearfinger. Taeyong frowned when seeing your distress, desperate to help you in any way possible and calm you down. “Y/N, want me to sleep next to you? I can save you from Spearfinger like the way I saved you from Dalmi,” he spoke softly, watching your reaction carefully with glimmering eyes.

You stilled at his words. Yes, you wanted that. Maybe Taeyong could help you fall fast asleep, knowing that you would be saved by him if anything were to happen. “Really? Can you?” Your voice was weak, hope bubbling in your chest to at last ease the nerve bundles in your body.

Taeyong smiled gently, giving you an assured nod. He would do anything to keep you safe. “Of course.” He readjusted the blanket on the ground and scooted over, patting on the space next to him. “Come here.”

You cautiously moved to lay down on the ground, your head resting on the pillow that he was previously using before he used his bent arm as one. You settled yourself comfortably beside his figure and he covered you with the spare blanket, sheltering your body from the slight chill of the night. Taeyong made sure that you were safe and warm before letting sleep take over.

Taeil opened his eyes to check up on his brother. He could read Taeyong easily and with full confidence knew that Taeyong was in love with you. So when Taeil found you cuddled against Taeyong’s warmth and Taeyong smiling like a child who received the biggest Christmas present ever, Taeil knew that it was time.

- ❀ -

You thanked Taeil for the breakfast, slowly spooning the rice porridge down your throat. Taeyong was out of sight, which disheartened you as your plan for today was to leave.

Haechan looked as if he hadn’t eaten anything in days with the way he scoffed the food down. “Woah, I didn’t realize I’d be this hungry. Thanks, Taeil.”

The older boy smiled. “No problem. I’m assuming you’ll be heading home now?”

Haechan nodded. “Yup. But it’d be a shame to not see Taeyong before we leave. Right noona?”

Your face didn’t change to mask the disappointment. Taeil noticed it, saying, “He’ll be back soon. He wanted to bring something for you, Y/N.”

You were surprised that the boy had gone out to get you something. What could he be possibly getting you?  

The door clicked open and your head whipped in that direction, finding the boy that you had been desperate to see before your departure. Abandoning your half-eaten meal, you rushed to Taeyong. “Where were you?” you asked him.

You didn’t notice that he had one hand behind his back, and when he brought it forward, you were stunned. In his grasp was an arrangement of the purple, pink and white wildflowers that you saw during your hike with him. “I got this for you,” he said, doing his best to hide the blush creeping up his cheeks.

Your heart beat erratically, making it harder to indifferently part ways soon. “Thank you so much, Taeyong.”

He pursed his lips, not knowing what else to say to you. And then he remembered something. “Oh! I found this phone. Is this Haechan’s?” Taeyong showed you the phone and Haechan gasped.

“That’s mine!” he shouted and jumped to his feet, making a dash to be reunited with the cellular device. “Thank you so much, Taeyong! Where did you find it?”

Taeyong smiled. “It seems like you lost it while we were hiking up to the flowers yesterday.”

That made sense to Haechan as he struggled to keep up with the difficult path and along the way, the phone slipped out of his pocket. “Ah! Right! Wow... Noona, he’s been so helpful ever since we got here. Isn’t he amazing?”

You let out a sad sigh and forced a small smile across your lips.

After breakfast, you and Haechan now stood right outside the cabin, preparing your heart to bid them farewell.

“I guess we’ll be leaving now,” you spoke weakly, trying your best to keep your tears at bay and not let them see.

Though, Taeyong could feel his heart agonize at the possibility of not seeing you again.

Haechan, like the sunshine he was, beamed at Taeil. “Thank you so much for everything, and for packing us some food.”

Taeil mirrored back a gentle smile. “Of course. Please come again.”

“We will.” Haechan turned to you and said, “Let’s go, noona.” With one final happy wave at the Tae brothers, he began travelling down the hill.

Your feet felt like it weighed a thousand pounds as it refused to listen to your assistant. With difficulty, you first thanked Taeil for all his kind gestures, and then landed your gaze on Taeyong, the uncomfortable ball rising quickly to your throat. “Thank you, Taeyong. For everything. Bye,” you curtly muttered and spun on your heel, taking slow steps away from them as your grasp on the wildflowers tightened.

Taeil watched his younger brother’s reaction carefully, noticing the shock registered on Taeyong’s face and the rise and fall of his chest as his breathing became heavier. Taeyong was desperate to do anything but say goodbye to you, but this was the reality that his poor heart had to soon accept.

That was when Taeil put his plan to action. “Y/N, wait!”

You stopped dead in your tracks and turned around, confused why he called for you.

Taeil smiled softly and asked, “How do you feel about taking Taeyong with you?”

You gaped at Taeil and your heart soared at the possibility of the moment not being the end to your love story. Meanwhile, Taeyong’s jaw dropped as he stared incredulously at his brother. “Hyung...”

Taeil had thought about it all night long and couldn’t bear to let the perfect opportunity go. “Taeyong, Mother always wished for us to live a better life. What’s better than Y/N being with you?”

Taeyong’s eyes welled up at the sacrifice his brother was making for him to live his life. But he didn’t want to leave his precious brother alone. “But hyung, what about you?”

Taeil chuckled quietly. “Don’t worry about me, really. I have Dalmi and the sheep. Mother and I will be so happy for you.”

Taeyong couldn’t bear to cage his emotions and wailed. “Hyung, thank you so much.”

Taeil laughed and wrapped his arms around his little brother, patting his head to soothe the big baby down. “Silly, if you miss me, tell them to bring you here for a visit.”

-

“Woah, that’s so cool of Taeil to do that. And Taeyong, you too. That’s a bold move, leaving your old life for the city,” Haechan remarked from the back seat.

Taeyong blushed as he kept his eyes fixed on the floral in his lap, holding it for you while your hands were fixed on the steering wheel. He side-glanced to see you smiling again, making him very happy to see you like this unlike your gloomy state earlier when you were to part ways with him.

You nodded brightly. “Yes Taeyong, I’ll make sure you’ll love the city so you won’t miss your old home much. I promise to take you to Taeil whenever you say.” You quickly glanced at him and added, “I don’t want to see you sad.”

Taeyong’s heart bloomed that you cared for him to a great extent. “Thanks,” he uttered ever so quietly.

Haechan raised a point. “What is Taeyong going to do? He doesn’t have any qualifications.”

You bobbed your head and thought of the greatest idea. “Didn’t you say he’s helpful? He can be our assistant.”

The young boy’s eyes bulged out in shock. “What? You’re gonna replace me? Not on my watch!” he yelled.

“No, dummy, I would never kick you out. I meant Taeyong can be like your assistant, so you’ll be teaching him things and have him run little errands. Basically, you’re his boss.”

Haechan calmed down immediately and leaned back into the leather seat, smirking. “Oh, I like that.”

You narrowed your eyes at him through the rear-view mirror. “Don’t you dare take advantage of it. He’s your hyung now.”

Taeyong listened to your conversation with Haechan quietly as he stared at the bundle of wildflowers that he brought for you, his eyes in particular glued to the pink chrysanthemums that you bought from a floral farm before leaving the mountains. He beamed at the idea of spending more time with you, his heart pounding and giddily bounced his feet as he stared out the window at the moving fields, waiting to start the next chapter of his life.

Once the car entered into the city, Taeyong’s eyes sparkled at the pretty downtown life, the polar opposite to what he had grown up to seeing on the mountains, even in the town situated near them. The town never had any building above three-storeys, pedestrians were scarce, and vehicles maneuvered around the one-lane streets for cars. Just meters away, his eyes took in the never-ending tall buildings, numerous pedestrians walking left and right, and multi-lane streets with cars, buses, and taxis.

Unlocking the door to your loft apartment, you stepped in, followed by Haechan with your backpack and a duffel that was supposed to have been used at the hotel, dumping the bags on the couch in the living space.

Taeyong timidly walked in with the flowers and a small bag, not owning many belongings and you made a mental note to take him shopping later. His eyes skimmed around the luxurious apartment and was in awe of how massive and elegant it was compared to the cabin. “This is your home?” he asked. It looked more like he was taken to a five-star hotel.

You pursed your lips and nodded. “Yup. I hope you’ll like it and it’ll feel like home for you soon.”

Taeyong tried to suppress his excitement as he didn’t mind being anywhere as long as it was with you.

“Oh right, you can give me the flowers. I’ll put them on display,” you said, stretching your arms out for them. He nodded and handed them over carefully. You headed for the kitchen to find a clear glass vase and he followed you like a cute puppy. Preparing the vase with cold water, you arranged the wildflowers so that the pink chrysanthemums stood out with one head sitting atop of the rest. Taeyong’s heart blossomed when seeing you adore the varieties. He loved spending time with nature and appreciating the beauty of the physical world with it.

Your fingertips felt the delicate petals and suddenly, an idea struck you. “Oh my God,” you breathed out and screamed for the assistant. “Haechan!”

He showed up quickly, looking panicked. “What happened?”

“Show Taeyong around. He can have the guest room.” You beamed as your heart pulsed with the adrenaline rush. “I’m going to get some work done.”

-

Haechan guided Taeyong to a room, a mahogany library and study space with brown leather couches and coffee tables. The older one was amazed by the vast bookcases to hold thousands of books for you. Haechan made a beeline to a particular section, his fingers running along the spines of the books that you wrote. “These are noona’s,” he informed proudly. “She uses this room to relax, get ideas, and of course read. She usually uses the small den we have to write without distractions.”

Taeyong slowly sauntered up to your books, his fingers glazing over the endless hours of your diligence and passion. “She did all this?”

Haechan smiled and nodded like a happy child. “This is all thanks to the assistance I provided her. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be selling such successful stories. Now that you’re here, let’s help noona write even more stories so she can keep treating us to good stuff.”

- ❀ -

Taking a writing break, you drove your two assistants to a shopping center, particularly for the newbie. You held shirts after shirts against Taeyong’s chest, nodding in approval of ones that looked good on him and chucked it at Haechan to hold. You found it cute that Taeyong looked like a baby new to the world, his eyes lighting up when seeing products like watches and jewelry sparkle under the store lighting. Every item that had him captivated, you would try to buy it all for him, only to have him persistently stop you after seeing its price tag and reasoned that he would never wear such luxuries on him.

After having dinner at a restaurant that had Taeyong exploding with animated expressions, evidently displaying his love for the new tastes, it was time to wrap up for the night. You headed to check up on Taeyong in the guest room, only to find him grimly sitting cross-legged on the bed with his head hanging low. You knocked on the open door with worry, and he looked up, giving you a small forced smile.

“What’s wrong?” you asked gently and walked up to him, sitting beside him on the bed.

He hugged his legs to his chest, hoping that it would give him some comfort. “I miss hyung. I’m worried if he’s okay.”

That was bound to happen and luckily, you had prepared for it. “Don’t worry about him. I gave him mine and Haechan’s phone number so he’d call us whenever he’s in town by a phone booth.”

Taeyong looked at you in surprise. “You did?”

You smiled and nodded. “He promised he’ll call us everyday so you two can check up on each other. He knew you were going to worry so he told me to tell you this.”

He chuckled quietly, releasing a huge relieved breath. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Is there anything else I can do for you, to make you feel better?”

Taeyong hummed for a bit, debating whether to tell you or not. “There is but... I don’t know if you’re okay with it.”

“I’m sure I will be. What is it?”

With hesitant eyes, he faintly asked, “Can you tell me a bedtime story?”

You blinked at his adorable request. “Bedtime story?” you asked with a growing smile.

He timidly nodded. “Hyung would always tell me one whenever I had trouble sleeping. I’m sorry if it’s too much to ask,” he muttered while fidgeting with his fingers.

Taeyong’s cuteness was too much for you to handle, and so you gently pinched his cheek, making him startle. “Sorry, it’s just such a cute request. Of course, I can tell you a bedtime story. If I couldn’t, I’d doubt my capabilities as a writer.”

His lips stretched so wide that you were afraid it’d rip apart if it went any broader, his nose scrunching up slightly with his eyes forming beautiful crescents.

After a while, Haechan was searching for you, not finding you anywhere. He thought about asking Taeyong in his room and that was where he found you, sitting against the headboard of the bed with Taeyong’s head in your lap and your hand resting on his hair where you were previously stroking him gently while telling him a story. Both of you now sound asleep.

- ❀ -

Taeyong looked up at the scary menu board, his heart racing with anxiety. He turned to you, silently asking for help with puppy eyes and a small pout. You chuckled and asked him, “Do you like sweet or bitter?”

His face cringed at the mention of bitter. “I love sweet.”

Nodding, your eyes scanned over the drinks menu and asked the barista for a caramel frappuccino and americano, adding a sliced chocolate cake. “I think you’ll like what I picked. Of course, not the americano.”

Before ending up at a café, you were working in the den when Taeyong suddenly showed up and he wanted to watch you work. He would just sit quietly next to you as he watched you type, but his mere presence was a huge distraction for you. It felt as if you were ignoring a ball of fluff, one that didn’t need your attention... but your attention needed it. That was when you decided to take Taeyong around the streets.

While waiting for your order at a table, Taeyong heard some sounds of girls whispering and giggling among themselves at a table behind you. He leaned his body to the side to take a curious peek at them and noticed that they were actually looking straight at him. One of the girls let out a squeak and covered her mouth when seeing Taeyong look right at them.

He grew anxious and shrunk himself in his seat, hoping your body would block him from the girls’ view. You noticed what he was doing and figured out what was going on based on the hushed noises behind you. “Taeyong?”

He nervously met your gaze.  

You sent him a reassuring smile. “Just like the way you protected me on the mountains, I’ll protect you in the city. Including those girls.”

[itsclydebitches]

Okay, I’m going to purge all my emotions into one text post in the hopes of cleansing myself. “Carry On” wasn’t just a bad finale, it was very nearly a parody of how bad a finale can get. The kind of thing that fans might — and in some cases actually did  — post about as a worst case scenario joke, a “Lol can you imagine the chaos if they did this?” without any real belief that the show would go that far. Yet they did. 

We begin the episode with a generic life routine montage that segues into an equally generic case, a callback to SPN’s roots that, while nostalgic in terms of the “Saving people, hunting things” motto, nevertheless fails to acknowledge that SPN hasn’t been that simple a show in years. I’m waiting for the case to tie into the larger plot/mythos somehow, but it doesn’t. We’re treated only to the heavy-handed symbolism of them saving two brothers. A woman victimized by vampires seasons back shows up for a second so Dean can comment on how good she looks, then Sam kills her. She is the only woman we see in the finale besides a nameless cop who gives exposition and leaves. Donna, an old favorite, is mentioned only by name. We know nothing about Sam’s wife. 

Dean dies. After 15 years of surviving the unsurvivable, his chance to finally live life disappears as he’s killed by a grunt vampire via a nail in the back and just tells Sam not to try and resurrect him. Though the acting in this scene is decent on both sides, I have precisely zero emotional investment because I’m just asking why this is happening. Why aren’t the brothers living or dying together? Will Cas somehow return, given that they’re in a barn and all? Nope. Dean dies, is cremated, Sam mourns in another montage and moves on. 

Despite this being a show positively stuffed with significant characters (it may have started out with two brothers but it certainly didn’t stay that way), the only one Dean (and via him the viewer) gets to see in heaven is Bobby. After some explanations and a bad beer, he drives off in his Impala while we get another montage of Sam growing old, which if you’ve seen the Six Feet Under finale may look familiar. Sam doesn’t age well, in the sense that the wig and makeup look ridiculous. He marries a woman we, as said, know nothing about and has a generic hunter son that he of course names Dean. Dean 2.0 tells his ailing father that he can die now and Sam does, dutifully, appearing to stand with brother!Dean on a bridge as his younger self... despite the fact that apparently only five minutes have passed for Dean in heaven, but Sam has theoretically grown into a different person after decades of life. 

Most egregiously, any hope the fans had for Cas getting a respectful ending were dashed. After a shocking confession two weeks ago, everyone was waiting for their reunion and to see if Dean reciprocated Cas’ implied feelings (the “I love you” deemed romantic largely due to the “What I want, but know I can never have” line, given that Cas has said “I love you” to both brothers in the past). Except that Cas never shows up. The first time he’s mentioned it’s by Sam, with Dean encouraging him to move on and eat pie instead of thinking of lost friends. The second time he’s mentioned by Bobby, who drops the reveal that Cas “helped” build this new heaven. So did Jack let him out of the Empty? Is he here now? Why wouldn’t he ever tell the brothers that Cas is no longer in super hell? It’s unclear. Either way, Dean doesn’t seem to care. So we had eleven years and a couple of months worth of queer baiting, a presumed romantic confession, followed by immediately killing Cas off, then Dean off, and the two of them never meeting on screen again.  

So... yeah. Well done, SPN! I think you may have pushed Game of Thrones and How I Met Your Mother out for a certain title. 

[bakatenshii]

Flushed

Dabi x Reader (BNHA)

word count: 5.1k

TW: 18+, smut, dub/noncon, drug use/abuse, corruption, virginity, (mild) blood

A/N: I am 12 days late for Sunny’s birthday, but my heart beats for one person and one person only— the light of my life, my wife @blahkugo​, who wrote me two (2!!) Shig fics for my bday Charity & Sludge, that I reread on the daily like the morning news. Cheeky shoutout to @thisisthehardestthing​ for writing one iconic sentence in here that I would have framed if I could. 

flushed

/fləSHt/

(of a person's skin) red and hot, typically as the result of illness or strong emotion.

cleanse (something) by causing large quantities of water to pass through it. 

Dabi doesn’t prowl for prey, he’s not on the lookout for fowl to take home for dinner. No, they come to him. It’s easy, always so obvious, he plucks them out like chicken in a hen house, ripe for breeding. 

It wasn’t hard to spot a desperate girl burning out, Hell, the campus’ full of them. But you had something more, something fun, something that made his lips quirk up and his dick twitch— you were uncorrupted. 

He can just tell, despite the airs you try to give, the aura of a virgin’s akin to an omega in heat to a starving alpha. Sweet, honeysuckle, the tiny flinches when a man gets too close, the breathy lilt in your voice when they propose something too risque; he inhales it all, commits it all to memory like you were desperately trying to do as you chewed on the tip of your pen and scratched out lines on the book in front of you. 

He didn’t need to push, you were already teetering the line, but he did it anyways— because it was fun. 

It was elating to watch you stumble into class the next day, eyes dark with sleepless anxiety, misery painted into every crevice of your features while your notes were tucked neatly into the drawer in his room. Really, you shouldn’t have left them so open on the lecture hall table, it’s like inviting a robber home and cooking him a three course meal. 

Finals season marked the end of your social life, and the beginning of Dabi’s career. It was almost boring, the repetitive nature of his job; too easy, too simple, a mockery of the entitled bookworms who look down on scummy repeaters like him. But the entitlement is what fuels him, over-achievers fearing for two simple digits on a crumpled sheet of paper as if it’s worse than death itself.

He thrives off of their stubbornness to accept anything below perfect; the hilarity of it all, the irony that their insurance to achieve higher standards than that of a scum like him only fuels his lifestyle, bringing him deeper down the depths of degeneracy. 

He sat behind you closer than usual, spoke a lil louder than usual, dropped in the most nonchalant comment about a study drug kids are crazing over these days. He watched as you flinched, hands stopped moving to listen in to the spiel he was spewing, the fishing hook he was dangling in front of you. 

A magic pill, one that’ll help you concentrate, kill any sleepiness, get you buzzed for hours on end— best of all, it’s totally legal, he gets it from a pharmacist, scout’s honour. 

That’s what he told you when you turned around to him at the end of class, whispering in hushed fear, nerves bouncing off your skin in goosebumps on your exposed arms.

Why he’s selling it? Because he needs some extra cash, he said. He knew you didn’t believe him, but he knew you were desperate enough not to care. 

When you met him in the dead of night at the empty carpark of his building, he knew he’s got you; hook, line, and sinker. No self-respecting girl would meet bottom-barrel trash like him in a deserted location at half three in the morning, no, you were untainted, but you weren’t pure.

He didn’t need to know it worked, doesn’t matter what your test results reflected, all that mattered was that you came back to him a few weeks later, met him at the same dingy carpark, hands trembling slightly less this time. 

He pretended to scold you, reveled in the way your lips curled into a soft pout, and warned you that tolerance builds fast. Do it in moderation, he had said— he’s the world’s biggest hypocrite. 

You came to him only a week later this time, and Dabi had pretended to be shocked. He wasn’t, he gave you a lower dosage the last time, there was no way you’d have been satisfied. Microdosing leads the unsuspecting to addiction, the one fact he learned from school. He lectured you, asked you if you’d built up tolerance too fast, if you wanted to try something different?

He watched as your eyes lit up, pupils dilating in excitement at the promise of something different, something better. It really was too easy. You were too easy. 

That night he invited himself over to yours, said he’d wanted to make sure you didn’t have any side effects. It was new, after all, and it was stronger. He’d sit there and be quiet, he promised; it was all out of the kindness of his own heart. 

It was almost embarrassing how eagerly you’d lie to yourself in hopes of a better grade.

Dabi wasn’t gonna do anything to you that night, trust takes time to build up after all. Besides, it’s no fun to pounce on the prey before they started running. You studied the nonsensical scribbling on annotated novels, he studied your tiny movements, twitches, nervous habits; etched them into his brain for future use. 

A too-long breath, a gasp, a clench of the fist signaled your come-up. He timed it, approximately thirty-five minutes for the initial peak, then smaller spikes at half hour intervals, totaling in four hours before you came down. Impressive, still, considering he’d given you the same dosage as the first time. 

He stuck to his words, staying quiet only until prompted, offered you water every once in a while, really, he deserved an Oscar for playing the best supporting dealer. It only took two more sessions before your tolerance peaked again, calculated and timed to perfection right before the next assignment.

The beauty of seeking out an English major was that they’re always searching, reaching into the void for any type of inspiration to translate into eloquently formed words. The beauty of seeking out you, was that you were already in too deep, hooked by the lil pills and plunged into the bottom of the ocean. 

Your grades rose while your inhibitions sank, a dramatic irony, isn’t that what they called it?

It’s cute, really, he only had to give you a nudge this time. Asked you how your assignment was going, played the sympathetic friend, and offered you something completely new, completely different. ‘Have you ever tried 2CB?’

Silly question, rhetorical, almost; of course you hadn’t. Innocent sweet girl like you never would’ve even touched weed, much less a hallucinogen. But he poses it to you in an eager tone like he’s genuinely waiting on an answer, like this isn’t just one big game to him. He laughed when you said no, asked him what it was— do you want him to show you?

You trust him, don’t you? He’s helped you through your exams, supported you through your assignments, honestly, he deserved a pat on the back. Don’t tell him you didn’t trust him, come on now, that’d break his heart. 

He didn’t expect you to put up a fight, but you gave in almost too easily, guess those lil pills really did migrate and nest in your bloodstream. 

The safety of your own dorm room was always granted to you, a faux-sense of security to veil you in, shield you from the true depth of depravity you’ve sunken to. He held you underwater in a net, ensuring you that he’d pull you up whenever— ‘just say the word.’

The net had long been cut, he’d admired the way you’d comforted down there, paddling aimlessly in hopeful conviction. 

It’s become routine, almost. Dabi lets himself in easily, settles into the couch across your desk, pulls out a baggy and passes it to you. “A psychedelic,” he explains, “you’ll see colours you’d never seen, find beauty in everything, an artist’s best friend,” if he does say so himself. 

He watches you pop the lil pill in your mouth, follow the stream of water pour down your throat, traveling the rips and divots of your tongue, before it drops down your throat into your bloodstream with a bob of your larynx. You’re so pliant, so obedient, he reminds himself to thank your parents for grooming such a cute lil doll.

You let out a loud gasp an hour and a half later, and he watches your fingers curl into themselves; and for the first time he speaks unprompted. 

“You good?” It’s almost genuine; the curiosity, at least. He wants to know how articulate you are, needs to know how deeply submerged your consciousness has become. 

He watches as you meet his gaze, little tongue dashing out to wet your lips, and nods once, twice, slowly. You shake your head almost immediately after, croaking out an, “I feel ill,” before pushing meekly at your desk to stand your body up. Cute, weak.

Just how he likes them.

He reaches an arm out to you, pulling you into his chest easily and nests your head into the crook of his neck. “Nauseous, aren’t you?” You nod, and he smirks. “Don’t worry princess, it’s just a rough come-up. I’ll make you feel better, I promise.” 

It’s almost believable, how sickly sweet he sounds. Too many sitcoms accumulated in recycled dialogues to woo girls in any situation; mix and match, simple yet effective. 

He can feel the restless rise and fall of your chest pressing against his, short quick pants as if gasping for air, a small hand scraping at his arm; yeah, you’re definitely coming up. 

He picks you up and nestles you into your own couch, so easily as if handling a ragdoll, then walks to the kitchen and pours you some water. The perfect friend, the perfect support, the perfect dealer. You’re so vulnerable, so exposed, you don’t even know it; it makes his brain fog over with carnal desire to pounce— but he doesn’t. Not yet.  

He lays back on the couch with you, arm snaking around your shoulder to coax you into a subdued euphoria. All the words he’s garnered throughout the years of fishing for his next meal come bubbling out so naturally in practiced scripts, “It’s okay princess, it’s a stronger pill. It’ll make you feel better, I promise.” He’s promising a whole lot, tonight. 

“Hey,” he tips your face to meet his with all the tenderness of a lion stalking its prey, “I’m here, right? You trust me, don’t you? I’ve never let you down. I’ll never let anything happen to you.” 

It’s hard to force down the gagging noise on cue with his disgustingly fake, rom-com lines, but the way he can feel your body loosen, relax, and mold into his tells him he’s close. So close. 

This is the best part, this is what he’s good at; the last stretch of patience while stalking his prey, with footsteps so light, treading so carefully, until the air slows down around him and he can taste your scent wafting through the air.

It happens in an instant, a whole-body jolt as you tense up, euphoria announced with a sharp gasp. The smile that crawls up his face is nothing short of sinister, predatory, but he knows you don’t notice. You can’t. Your eyes are strewn shut, basking in the high, and he takes the moment to swallow the pill he’s held under his tongue. 

It’s no fun to tripsit, he doesn’t get anything out of that, and Dabi doesn’t do things for free. He feels your head fall back onto his shoulder, short breaths warming a ripple of goosebumps up his neck, and watches as you push your heavy lids open to gaze at the ceiling.  

He can feel your giggles reverberating through his chest before he hears them, innocent, pure, unsuspecting. He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, because virtuous girls like you like to be treasured, made to feel special, safe— he can make you feel safe; no one’s told him not to play with his food before he eats it. 

He watches as you flutter your eyelids at him, sigh into his touch, really, you’re the textbook prototype, he doesn’t even need to adjust his tactics. “You feelin’ good?” A hot breath into your ear, and he revels in the way your lips pout to let out a soft sigh. 

Funny how differently you react when you’re high out of your mind, maybe it’s the drug, or maybe it’s just Dabi? You’ve always wanted a bad boy like him, didn’t you? Good girls like bad guys; it’s textbook cliché, and you’re the blueprint. 

He doesn’t wait on an answer, he knows it: you’re feeling good, great— divine. He’ll be right there with you soon, he promises.

“Tell me what you see, princess,” Dabi’s not listening when a cascade of nonsensical descriptions come bubbling out, he doesn’t care. It’s all to get you to keep talking, shift your attention elsewhere while his hand slithers down your arm to play with the hem of your shirt.

At the first brush of his finger on the bare skin of your waist, he feels you purr into him, eyes rolling back in bliss. It’s his cue to give you more, invitation for him to snake his other hand up your naked thigh and knead the flesh gently. 

Gentle does it, he’ll bring you higher as you go. 

He ghosts a breath just under your ear, nipping at your lobe, and admires the full body shiver tumbling through. Moans, loud and needy, come panting out past your lips and echoes off the walls before bouncing back to him. He lets you symphonize short breaths and whiney pleas with each lick and suck traveling down your neck, painting blooms of purple and red as his hand travels dangerously high. 

A firm grip is all the warning he gives you before he tucks his fingers into the crease of your thigh, laughing almost at how obediently you spread your legs. What happened to that pure, innocent girl? Guess under all that laid a dirty whore, just like the rest of ‘em. 

It was slick, so wet, pussy dripping past the delicate lace and drooling over his fingers. Lace, befitting of a slut who lured him in with the fake charms of a virgin. He slides a finger down your slit, gathering up all the juices before presenting it to you. 

“What do you see?” He holds up his finger, slick dripping down like syrup, and watches your pupils dilate in effort to focus. He can see the way your lips part, string of saliva connecting the two soft molds, before gasping out, “melting ice cream.” 

“Want a taste?” 

You clamp over his finger before he even asks you to, sucks on the digit like it’s a melting ice lolly, before your eyes shoot open and mouth twists in disgust. Of course it doesn’t taste nice, normal food isn’t even edible when you’re rolling like this. You’re sticking your tongue out, in an attempt to air out the taste, or maybe you’re just a dumb dog, a dumb bitch, he’s not sure. He doesn’t really care. 

The same hand, now slick with saliva, grips your chin and crashes your lips into his. His tongue finds yours first, tip licking up the crevice of yours lolling out, and he sucks it into his mouth like it’s a crime for it to be kissing the air. 

There’s no modesty, no gentleness, his tongue pries your lips open, and he feels the weakest form of resistance before he’s thrusting the muscle down your throat. He lapping over the back of your teeth, traces over each bump and rugae on the gummy sides, and snickers at your shit attempt to kiss him back with your slack mouth drooling out the corners. 

He feels a pawing at his arm— your hand meekly grabbing at the sleeve of his shirt to bring him in closer, press his chest into your soft tits, crowd him into you more, more, more. 

It’s cute; it’s stupidly desperate. 

He gets it though, it’s no worries. Human nature is all it is; the desire to climb higher and higher— he wonders if he can get one out of you before the pill hits him. 

There’s no gentleness in the way his hand slots between your legs and cups your dripping cunt this time. He wishes he has more time to admire the way your legs quiver and twitch with every firm pat against your clit, but he’s on a time crunch. There’s so much time to spare, he can play with it all he wants later.

He can feel your needy moan vibrate through his lips and reverberate straight into his brain, sloppy mouths working simultaneously together and against each other as he rips your panties and shorts off in one go. Any self respecting girl would shut their legs in shame, in embarrassment, any attempt to protect their dignity, but you don’t. He doesn’t let you, anyways. 

A hand moves under your shirt to roughly grip at your tits in the same breath he sinks a finger into your sopping hole. Inhale; squeeze, thrust, exhale— you moan. It’s tight, as tight as a virgin pussy should be, but not too tight that it fights against the foreign digit ramming into it at a relentless pace too rough and quick to befit an unexplored hole. 

He can feel the pulsing around him, gummy walls milking his finger for all its worth, and he digs his palm into your swollen bud; it’s all he needed for you to come undone. You don’t squeal, you don’t scream, the 2CB in your system rendering you incapable of anything except long breathy sobs of his name. 

His finger pops out with a wet squelch, and he brings it to his mouth to taste it; tarty, thick— he’s still sober. You’re blubbering out drivel about the stars you saw, the colours swirling around at the peak of your euphoria, you think you saw God— is Dabi God? 

Dabi had to laugh, pat you on the head with his hand covered in syrupy slick, watch it leak and clump your strands of hair. He picks you up with your shorts and panties drenched through dangling at your ankles, and walks you to your bed.

You don’t notice, still basking in the afterglow; he knows this. Not that you’d push him off, tell him to stop. Not in your state anyways. You couldn’t even if you wanted to. 

He drops you once the bed’s in frame at the same time he feels his pulse rise, heart palpitate, and a wave of nausea threatens to bubble over. It doesn’t; he doesn’t let it. An experienced veteran would never. It’s a welcomed sensation, one he’s all too familiar with, and he gives himself a brief minute to breathe it in, savour it, before glancing back down at your limp body on the bed. 

Is it your body? He can trace your silhouette from the dip of your waist, the full of your hips, something glistening, gleaming in the light— your pretty little virgin cunt. His eyes roll back at the next inhale before he finds himself landing on the bed on top of you, forearms digging into the soft mattress of your bed. 

He hears your voice singing into his brain, soft lulls of his name stringing out in DabiDabiDabi— the desperation and need shooting straight to his cock, he doesn’t even need to look down at your soft pliant body, welcoming him, inviting him in. 

“Feels good, yeah?” His voice comes out rougher than usual, low and strained, and laughs at how eagerly you nod, watches your chin catch the air and paint strokes of colour following the route it takes, “Who makes you feel this good?” 

He knows, he knows because it’s all you’ve been able to say the past while, the only word on your mind that you can even blubber out— 

“You, Dabi,” your pants grow heavier; his pants grow tighter, “it’s you Dabi, please—“

A hand reaches up to cradle his cheek, your soft, uncalloused, hand, and he grips it by the wrist before bringing it up to his face. He traces every line that curves and meets on your palm with his tongue, letting it be covered entirely with drool before wrenching it down under his joggers and into his boxers to cup his aching erection. 

His hips rut into your palm almost immediately as a knee-jerk reaction, every hump into your tiny hand has him panting into your face, sweat beading at his temples. His tongue drops down to lick at your lips, asking for entrance, begging for access. Your lips might’ve parted just a fraction, maybe just to let out a breathe, but Dabi takes it as permission to thrust his tongue in and prod at your dormant one.

He can feel you gag at the sudden intrusion, throat convulsing to push back the unfamiliar slimy muscle, and he briefly considers yanking your hand out and shoving his cock down that pretty little mouth of yours. 

But he doesn’t, because he doesn’t have the patience. He needs it urgently, needs your tight virgin cunny stretching and agonizing over his overbearing size, needs to feel the flutter of the gummy walls with each thrust; he needs it bad, he needs it now—

Your hand is wrenched away as he yanks both waistbands down to his thighs. He looks at you, eyes blurring through kaleidoscopic vision, and makes out your disoriented gaze staring back at him. Disoriented with toxins, disoriented with need, lust, desperation— a hand reaches behind Dabi’s neck and pulls him back down to crash bruised lips together. 

It’s all the invitation he needs, not that he needs it, no, what he needs is to sink his painfully hard cock into that sweet, sweet cunt of yours. There’s a faint squealing coming from underneath him, and he thinks he can feel nails digging crescents into his nape, but all he can feel is your warm, wet walls clenching around him. 

There was no need to prepare you for any longer, there’s no point if he doesn’t stretch your virgin pussy out with his own cock; it’s wasted on fingers, his fingers don’t deserve to feel the way you walls quiver and contract around it. The pitched cries stop eventually as he feels your body go pliant and soft, and he has half a mind to realize you’re probably starting to come down soon.

He doesn’t wanna deal with that, you won’t be sober for another few hours, but you’ve peaked already, and not with him; that’s not fair, that’s no fun. His cock stills inside you with half still unsheathed and he reaches down into his pocket to take out a baggy of powder. There’s a spoon in, thank fuck, and he feeds a small bump right up to your nose. 

“Inhale,” he slots it right up your nostril, “it’ll make you feel good, didn’t you feel good?” Your head lowers to nod, bumps the edge of the spoon right into the cartilage of your nose, and inhale. Good girl. 

The baggy is tossed haphazardly before he’s working his dick into you again, cockhead pushing through the doughy walls in search of that pocket at the end of your pussy.

You don’t struggle anymore, instead clinging onto his shoulders and carving half-moons into the flesh. It hurts a lil, and Dabi doesn’t like it when it hurts, not when he’s the one hurting.

He snatches your hands off him and pushes them above your head, into the plush forgiving mattress. His teeth are back on your neck, biting over the ripples of purple and green and red and blue, reveling in your cries and moans that come out in symphonies. 

It feels good, great— divine, it’s what he deserves for bringing you to Nirvana. He’s basically your muse, after all, how can you truly describe rapture without experiencing it first? 

He can hear your moans ringing out from underneath, can see them traveling in the air in hues of reds and pinks and reds and reds— there’s red on your bedsheets, of course there is. He forgot that’s what comes with a virgin cunt; blood, mixing with the translucent coating his cock, dripping down and painting the crisp white sheet red, drifting into the air and congesting the whole room with red. 

He inhales the colour, sucks it into his lungs, and uses it to fuel the pistoning of his hips. Your breaths turn to pants, turns to sobs of his name leaving your lips again, and he thinks you look good, so good, taking his cock like this. You should thank him for bringing you to your second orgasm. 

Just look at you, crazy isn’t it? Crazy what a lil pill can do. But he’s got something better, something so much better, something that’ll bring you to a new dimension. You want that, don’t you? C’mon don’t be shy, Dabi will bring you right there, don’t you worry.

There’s still the faint cries from your orgasm when he flips you over and pushes your face into the untainted sheets. He watches as your hands sprawl up to grip and grasp at something, anything, and his hands ease up on the hold on your skull for a second to let you wheeze and greedily gasp for air.

He flickers a trail of blue down your back, watches the flames dance and rage in a mirage, every bouquet indented by the ligament of each tender rib, and there’s a faint scream. The pitch rises with the flames, taunting it to go higher, faster, paint murals in every swell of your back until he can’t see anything except ash coal char. 

Dabi blinks, squints his eyes as he throws his head back to focus on the paint chipping on the ceiling. It cracks and crinkles, shying away from his pointed glare, before he sucks in a deep breath and looks back down at you. 

There’s no ash, no char, only warm tanned flesh, pressed flush against the pristine white sheets underneath. It burns against the pads of his long fingers splayed out across your back, and he winces in annoyance at the irony.

You don’t seem to notice his pause, too fucked out or fucked up to register what’s going around you probably. A mixture of both; Dabi can’t really remember what he’s given you or how long he’s been there. 

He can’t decide if he wants to stay there anymore,  can’t make out the pros and cons of either. He counts them off with each painful yank of your hair, each harsh thrust into your abused virgin cunt— it was that, wasn’t it? 

He was there because he sniffed out a cute lil virgin, one so untainted and untouched, one begging for him to corrupt. He’s not known to be very generous, but sometimes he gets into one of those moods; it can’t be helped when there’s a desperate doll waiting to be torn apart. 

He knows what you want, can read you with his eyes closed— you don’t need eyes to feel the pulse of a greedy cunny; it clenches with every slap of the face, damn near clamps down entirely as his slender fingers slither around to the front of your throat.

Two fingers shove past your lolling tongue and yanks your head back by the digits hooked on the corner of your mouth. There’s drool, and spit, and so many fluids coming and entering all at once— and then you’re coming, again, probably, for the third time that night. Fourth? 

It’s methodical, straightforward, he reads the instruction manual once, maybe twice if the first one’s a bit faulty, and he’s got it down to muscle memory.

At the sound of heaving he looks back down again, admires the feel of two of his fingertips fucked straight into the back of your throat, and pushes down on the rugged gummy wall. You gag, and he laughs. It’s cute, so cute, you’re real cute, you know?

“Such a good lil whore aren’t you?” He digs his nails into the flesh of your hip and rams his cockhead until he can feel the kiss from your puckered cervix. “All fucked out of your mind, bet you can’t even hear me, can you?” 

He watches as you gurgle out words past his fingers wedged down your slack mouth, and choke on the pools of saliva drooling out. It’s the funniest sight, fascinates him to death, really. 

A slap to the face might bring you out of your daze, so he slips his hand back out of your sloppy mouth and revels at your body propelling forward straight into the headboard. He grasps at the tips of your hair and wrench your body back towards him before any satisfying impact could sound out. It’s a shame, but concussions are not in his agenda. 

“Been fucked so loose, filthy slut can’t even keep your body up,” he rolls your hair around his hands and yanks back until your skull meets his chin; it’s excruciatingly painful, probably, and that’s why it’s the best. 

It’s the perfect way for your mouth to fall open naturally, to scream, squeal, fluster around in attempt to be freed from the position— it creates the perfect hole for him to spit in. He watches as your face contorts in disgust, tongue pushed out to let his spit drool out the sides, but that’s no fun, not very nice of you, is it?

“Swallow,” he assists you with an extra hard thrust, and you choke on the moan coming out. His hand comes forward from your hip to rest under your chin before pushing it up so it clamps shut, “I said, swallow.”

Your eyes flood with tears that waterfall down your face, and God, he thinks you look the best like this— wrecked on his cock, body littered in purple and red, covered in sweat and blood and cum; his perfect lil cocksleeve, just for him. 

It’s emotional, almost— religious, even, he can feel the palpitations in his heart thumping against his chest echoing off the headboard banging against the wall, and lets the euphoria consume him, wash over him as he coats your walls with hot ropes of cream and white, hips stuttering with your greedy cunny fluttering and clenching around it, milking and sucking in his cock in deeper, deeper, more.

He thinks you might’ve cum, might still be cumming, but all he can hear is the Messiah calling for him, choir singing lulling him into an infinite jubilation; he closes his eyes to bathe in it, let himself be cleansed and washed over with ecstasy. 

When he pulls out, your body flops onto the mattress, and he watches as white dribbles out your quivering hole, mixing with the red on the sheets, creating a puddle of pink and magenta, before passing out in the fuschia.