#healing crystals near me

[solvicrafts]

What gets me about certain people being so fucking pissy about Bob not writing much about Eilistraee (until the last fucking trilogy where EIlistraeans featured heavily) is that

a) Bob basically built drow culture up from almost nothing, and Eilistraee came after he started writing Drizzt

b) no you guys really don't understand. I own the first 4 modules drow appeared in. There's... not much there. And it hasn't aged well.

c) and the Big One: he has a specific vision for his specific characters when it comes to the narrative he wants to explore, from sexual abuse to religious trauma, both of which are fucking complicated and for most people just switching deities isn't enough to fix that.

I have religious trauma that I still struggle with to this day and probably will for the rest of my life to some extent, and it's fundamentally different in nature from what most people would probably expect, and the thing is even though I am happily polytheistic and very enthusiastically into it, I still struggle a lot with certain things because every time I get into my religious practice I have to actively force myself into (or out of) certain things because my whole relationship to religion and spirituality is complicated and messy.

It would be easy and frankly incredibly superficial for Bob to decide to just have them all convert to half-assed Neowiccan ~woo~ drow Jesus Eilistraee to *~*save their souls*~* and call it a day

BUT HE DIDN'T DO THAT

Partly because she wasn't his creation and other authors were writing her at the time so he really couldn't, and partly because it's a shitty message to send.

Sometimes people benefit from converting to a new religion or following a new deity. Sometimes people don't.

I benefited from gradually converting to my religion, but it's come with a whole different set of complications and hasn't been a smooth journey for me.

Just going from extensive religious trauma to switching deities does not fix your problems, and for a lot of people it realistically can make them much worse.

but also

you don't have to be saved by a deity in order to have value as a person

[goldenhands]

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[divinehealings123]

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[circuitsfantasies]

Freedom. (A Sebastian Solace fict)

Somehow you had managed to get Sebastian to the surface and away from the urbanshade facility. Whatever black magic or pure chance you managed to pull you did it. And he was finally free, but so were you. Free from having to go down into a cold, wet, and dangerous hell that many had risked to get a god-forsaken crystal.

You were lucky you had lived a good bit away from town so you could shelter the eel from the cold grasp of the city. It took a few days for Sebastian to adjust but once his eyes got used to light and he felt comfortable enough to go outside with you into the backwood of nature he looked like this was all he had ever wanted.

Noticing a few tendencies Sebastian had picked up never ceased to make your day brighter. For instance, there was a field of grace not too far from the forest in the backdoor of your home. When you took Sebastian there he wriggled around when laying on the grass like a cat did like you've seen so many times in cat compilations.

Another thing he did you couldn't help but smile at was when the eel sunbathed. He would laze around near windows or in the backyard for house basking in the sun's rays, and even if you wanted him to move he wouldn't. Sometimes he'd convince you to join him and he'd coil his long tail around you as you fell asleep together in the sun.

One thing Sebastian wished he could do with you is going into town or the city and do mundane things like buy groceries. He missed being normal but you reminded him how your heart was for him no matter the form he held. He may still have doubts but he appreciated your patience with his doubts and loved that you helped heal this mangled part of him.

Once you had cooked or heated up a meal for Sebastian he almost cried being able to eat normal food again instead of scavenging for scraps in the facility. One thing you found out he loved was strawberry shortcake! On occasion, you would buy him a whole cake as a treat and watch as he throughout the week eat away at the soft cake.

Sleeping-wise, you had to rearrange your room and buy a bigger bed so that Sebastian would be more comfortable. He still had to coil up, but he was much more comfortable than before. Though, he was a total blanket and bed hog. You'd go to sleep and wake up in the morning being smothered under a heavy tail or Sebastian straight up just putting his whole torso weight on you. He looked so beautiful when you woke up seeing a gentle beam up light on him as he looked like he was the most peaceful thing in the world.

He was happy.

He was free,

YOU were free.

"I'd say we finally both got what we wanted yeah? Next time don't wake me up so early." Sebastian teased before pulling you back down into the soft blankets. You figured the two of you could relax for now.

(Circuits note!! Hope you enjoyed this fict my friend suggested I write! I have another Sebastian fict planned so look forward to it! :])

[jolapeno]

Hello 👋🏼 I’ve been a fan for such a long time and I absolutely love love love the way you write Joel so I thought maybe you’d like some thots I’ve been having recently about him? It’s been super hot where I love and I can’t stop imagining Joel taking me for a swim to cool off in the summer… except it’s the apocalypse and we don’t have swimsuits 🤭 the way that man would STARE because he’s not seen a naked lady in a long time and the way he wouldn’t think twice about lying me down in the wet grass near the river and fucking me too… so yeah… hope that’s not too much 👉🏻👈🏻

firstly, thank you for the lovely compliment because me? really. eeep. but also, god anon, this SPOKE to me, because I've been thinking about my outbreak joel a lot. i blame my conversations with @thetriumphantpanda (also an amazing joel writer btw), so this spoke to me. and maybe this was supposed to be a drabble and now this is... this.

it’s different in the sun, in the day

pairing: joel miller x f!reader wordcount: 1.2k (oops, i don't know what happened) warnings: outbreak. smut. lots of talk of him thinking smutty things too. you can paddle in water. and there’s no bathing suits in the outbreak so naked dipping only.

He’d been serious when he told you that under no circumstances would the two of you be stopping. 

Even as the heat battered both of you, as you grumbled and the temperature made sweat drip and linger in places that chafed. Even as he felt himself growing more uncomfortable, angry, an ignited fury. Beads of it continued to fall from the ends of his hair, landing on his neck before descending under stiff clothing, pooling where his belt sat. 

And then it came into view. 

Crystal-like, shimmering—an oasis in the centre of death and overgrown. A heaven in a sea of green and brown hell. 

Joel hears the question before you let it slither from your tongue.

Feels it. Even before your hand wraps around his elbow, pulling and tugging attention to him that you already have. 

He’s just not good at letting you know that. At telling you. 

At first, it had been a refusal on his part; now, it’s a normalcy he’s come to like, over welcoming softness that he thinks will disrupt the careful equilibrium the two of you have. 

Before he’s even finished nodding, you’re pushing past him. Feet sliding from boots, socks peeled from skin as you expertly hang them on a dangling branch. He can only adjust his hand on the bag strap, glancing around, observing, looking for shifts and listening for branches snapping. Trying to not be more visibly annoyed than he already feels. 

Because this wastes time, this fantasy. 

They haven’t gotten as far as they have by dipping into them, into allowing themselves reprieve in the middle of nowhere. 

So he looks out, observes the area. Because it’s what he does, survive. A thing that feels second nature to him now, but hadn’t always. 

When he comes to rest his eyes on you again, you’re bare. Not a piece of fabric covering any part of you as your back is to him, the curve off your ass lit with golden sun and shadows from the trees it peers through; your back, illuminated by honey-yellow, showing the healing silver that’s permanently etched into your skin.

He can remember when it was a wound.

When it was as stubborn as you about healing. All sore, weeping—causing him nothing but anguish he had to shove down inside of him until it roared out and cracked skulls or broke jaws. 

You don’t ever pull a face when he comes back with split knuckles, the same way you don’t look over your shoulder to see if he’s staring. He suspects you know he is, would be, forever will be as long as air can find his lungs and he has the sheer audacity to remain alive. 

It’s a view watching you dip into the water, finding you turn when your waist is submerged, your lower limbs swallowed by murky blueish green, leaning back as his throat dries at your bare skin, at the curves of your breasts, at the way—even from here—he can see how hard your nipples are. Can imagine them between his teeth, can even hear the sounds you make, how breathy they are. 

Just like he knows how they feel, how weighty they are.

He’d only reminded himself a handful of nights ago, under the moonlight, hearing you mewl and whine as he slotted himself between your thighs. Pace slow, but deep, sounds of skin slapping, heavy breaths and the sleeping bag rustling all he could hear as he took you apart, as you took him apart with each of your fucking moans.

He thinks it’s different in the sun, in the day.

There’s something more beautiful about you, ethereal, making it seem hard to wrap his head around that he’s seen you survive, seen you both brutish, violent and evil, as well as heavenly, lustful and willing. 

In the night, the two of you are hidden by shadows, by night. There’s no hiding in the day, finding beauty in all its naked form swirling around in water he wishes was translucent.

His fingers flex, jaw tightening. A part of him battling to trudge into the water fully clothed, pull you to the shore and remind himself of how messy he can make you. Have the water seep directly from your skin to his as he pulls you flush, as he places your thighs on either side of his hips and hear that hiss you do when he sheathes fully inside of you.

He never kisses you, but he does hold your hand. Likes pinning it to whatever surface he finds himself pressing you against—clutching the hand that takes inside his own, feeling you grip him tightly in all the places you can before you convulse, shiver and shaking as he fucks you through it.

Joel wishes he could push the back of your hand into the soil now, coat the earth in your conjoined hands as his hips thrust into you. Leave a mark in the thing still living from both your hands and his knees.

Fuck, he wants to make your breasts bounce from the force. Not used to you this naked, this free. He’d be able to see all of you as your mouth contorts, wondering whether you can say his name or not—  

“You joining me or what?” 

He considers it when you shout. Ticks his jaw from side to side as he sees more of you vanishing under the water until it’s only your neck and head safe from the watery clutches. 

Joel does his own calculations, chews his tongue as he drops his bag from his shoulder—placing it close to yours. Resting it. Staring at the mess of your stripping before flicking his gaze to you. 

He thinks if he waits long enough, you’ll emerge out, dripping, beads of water shimmering. That you’ll come to get him. Retrieve him. Fingers sliding around his hand as you tug and plead only with your eyes, because there’s only one situation where you beg him. Where you plead. One that is usually blanketed by darkness, sometimes in abandoned houses, against mattresses with springs that dig into his knees, or under stars. 

You don’t squander that word on anything else. In the same way, he has only said please to you once. You had been sobbing—all silent and broken, moving with each prod of the needle as he aimed to keep you living, keep you with him.  

A splash of water brings him back, droplets of it up the shore as he hardens his gaze at you, seeing you standing, much closer to him, your chest glistening with water as you slide a smirk over your lips, no evidence of regret. 

“Take off your damn clothes, Joel.” 

It’s sterner than normal, more forceful. There’s no teasing edge to it, that comes from you hingeing at your waist, threatening to splash more water his way. 

It’s then he decides, as he raises a hand to begin popping his buttons undone, that as much as he’s been picturing pressing your spine into the ground, your ass cheeks into the mud, how he'd wrap your legs around his waist, he suspects that you have been imagining something entirely different.

Like him on his back. Your hand pinning his to the ground, as you sink down on him, taking every single inch of him. 

And he thinks maybe this is a fair trade, all of it.

Lifting his chin pointedly as he begins to let his skin be free from his layers, exposing his chest, his stomach, and the rest of himself. Because the look in your eyes, as he does so, is something that makes blood rush to his cock. Makes him hard as he strides, makes him want, need, desire—all the while making him realise that he’s not just wanting someone to whine for him, to moan his name or ask him to go harder. He wants you. He likes having you around. 

Under the sun, under the moon and everywhere in between. 

But, as he reaches you, as he grasps your hip and forces you flush to him, Joel decides that’s another thing he won’t admit. 

[just-a-ghost00]

Who's coming towards you and what do they bring to the table?

Group 1 - Spider lilly

Who are they? In Japanese culture, the spider lily is believed to bloom near graves. It is associated with the afterlife and the notions of death and rebirth. This flower holds a very scorpionic energy. It is also a symbol of eternal love. This specific white lily shown in the picture is also a symbol of purity and innocence. If we take that into account, the person coming towards you can be viewed as mysterious and deep, somewhat cold. But once you get to know them, you realize that they are rather outgoing and pure, kind and childlike. They marvel at the beauty of life and want nothing but to love and be loved.

Looking at the different cards you got, there’s a lot of emphasis on communication and voicing one’s opinions or truth without fear. This person could have a beautiful voice. They could be a singer or a spokesperson, an advocate or any other profession that involves speaking to a large audience. This person seems to be shy and rather harsh on themselves. They take pride in what they do and the values they stand for. When their actions are not in alignment with their ideals, they tend to criticize themselves a lot. They are represented by Bismuth and Turquoise, both blue crystals. The throat chakra holds an important significance to this person, as well as emotions, intuition and water. Blue could be their favorite color. This person could burn themselves out often by being present for others more than showing up for themselves. They could get throat sickness quite often, especially when they are repressing their truth or telling lies. They have a sharp tongue. They use their voice to shed light on what is contradictory or what needs to evolve. They help people shift their perspective. Teaching could also be their career path.

What do they bring to the table? - Queen of pentacles, 7 of wands, 4 of cups, The Moon, The Fool, Judgement, White Numen

This person brings in major shifts in your life. Renewal is the best way to describe it. They will literally put your world upside down in order to help you gain perspective on what is going on. They’ll show you that there’s nothing wrong in standing for what you believe in. They’ll also teach you how to be the bigger person and choose your battles wisely. They’ll help you introspect and listen to your intuition, take a new start in life and get retribution by accomplishing what you were meant to do in this life time. This person will help you find your true calling and your voice in this global cacophony that is the world we currently live in. With them, you will create a reality in your image. They will also help you value yourself more and set yourself free from any dependence or addiction. They’ll help you detach yourself from people’s judgmental views. Significant zodiac signs for this group are Taurus, Cancer and Scorpio. You can wear blue or connect to the energy of Bismuth and Turquoise to understand this person better on a spiritual level and manifest them into your life.

Group 2 - Lavender

Who are they? Lavender is known to have soothing properties. It is often used in aromatherapy to ease the mind and release tensions related to anxiety, stress. Lavender is a symbol of devotion, serenity and grace. With its purple petals, it could be associated with the spiritual realm. This person is very delicate and kind hearted. They consider people with a lot of care and kindness. They have a pure heart and make people feel safe. They remind me of Taurus and their Venusian sensual and loving energy. This person is down to earth and wise beyond their years. Their crown chakra is highly active. It wouldn’t surprise me if this person already connected with you through your dreams. They could very well be a therapist, a reiki practitioner, a healer that uses alternative medicines or unconventional practices like crystal healing or sound healing. This is further confirmed by two cards of the Threads of fate deck that are related to air and ether : share wisdom and The Sage. This person is a guide and mentor to others. They could be a teacher, some type of guru or an important public figure, a coach, a counselor. This person is very powerful and influent. They could have published a book or a study or shared their experience and what they learned over time online.

They are represented by the hammerhead shark. They have a lot of determination and drive. They are also incredibly mature. They could very well be older than you. I’d say at least ten years older. Purple and blue could be their favorite colors. If they were a major arcana, I think this person would be the Hermit. So Cancer could also be relevant. They are also represented by Kyanite and Amethyst. Kyanite is advised to people who feel restless, who overthink or get caught in their mental space too often. This shows that this person is a deep thinker. They take things seriously and meticulously. Amethyst is often used in spiritual practices to deepen our connection to the spirit realm and gain clarity. To hone our psychic skills. This person feels very connected to their higher self. They know who they are, what they were meant to do and where they’re heading. They are focused on their mission and won’t lose their time with insignificant matters.

What do they bring to the table? - 7 of cups, 3 of wands, 9 of cups, Temperance, 4 of swords, The Lovers, 5 of swords Other significant zodiac signs are Gemini, Sagittarius and Pisces. This person will teach you how to identify your needs and choose a path that is in alignment with your higher self and your highest good. They’ll help you find balance and emotional satisfaction in the projects that you pursue, the actions you take. They’ll teach you how to recognize the symptoms of anxiety and being overwhelmed by life so that you can retreat and protect yourself. They’ll teach you how to pick your battles wisely and ignore petty attitudes from your peers. They’ll help you handle the pressure of being your true self and choosing yourself over others. They’ll teach you how to love yourself and how to love, how to be in love and receive love. I can say here that this relationship has romantic potential. Surprisingly this part of the reading is the shortest but I feel like there’s no need to overanalyze this because this person will be pretty clear with their intent : they’re here to help and support you, "and that is all you need to know" they want to add.

Group 3 - Sunflower

Who are they? I associate the Sunflower with the bold and brave Leo. I heard in my mind "only the brave" which is the name of a perfume from Diesel. So this could be this person’s perfume. With it’s bright colors and relation to the sun, it is safe to say this person has a bright personality. They are outgoing and friendly, like to be seen and admired. They take great care of their body and appearance. Hence the fragrance reference. This person is cheerful and ambitious. They don’t like lying down and contemplating. They would rather act first and think later. They could have anger issues and sometimes be jealous. The signs of Leo and Aries could be significant. Blue and green could be their favorite colors. This person is represented by the whale shark and the octopus. They are very clever and resilient. They have a strong moral compass and always lead their life according to their values and principles. They remind me of Changbin from Stray Kids. This person likes to make their own mind instead of following others. They’re a natural leader and a loner. With The Creator card and the Withdraw card from the Threads of fate deck, this tells me that this person is creative and works independently. They could be a fashion designer, a writer, a producer, a webdesigner, an architect, a freelance artist in any domain. This person could be known on social media. On the withdraw card is a sleeping fox. This tells me that this person likes their solitude. They need time alone to recharge and create. They don’t like showing people their tricks. They like to surprise and impress. The creator card shows a hand holding a wand. This for some reason reminds me of Harry Potter. Maybe your person is a potter head. In this case, they’re the typical Gryffindor : athletic, loyal, thinks with their heart (or something else a bit lower when the heart isn’t functioning). They have a strong sex drive and are pretty sensual. Their body matters a lot to them. They go to the gym often.

What do they bring to the table? - 2 of cups, ace of swords, page of wands, ace of pentacles, six of cups, The Tower, 7 of wands

To put it simply, they bring love, sex and a whole lot of fun. But this will be challenging for you, as you are not used to this type of energy. Significant zodiac signs are Scorpio, Sagittarius and Pisces. They bring in new opportunities and a new start romantically speaking. They bring in new experiences and that includes sexuality. They will help you reconnect with the past and make amends with it. They will help you heal your inner child and release trauma regarding intimacy. They will challenge you and push your buttons to get the best out of you. That is their way of showing you love. This is the type of person that will wake you up one morning and get you out of bed to work out with them, and gently scream at you positive affirmations while you’re working on that "summer body" you always wanted. They’ll show you how to have fun with life and explore all the hidden parts of you that you were burying because you were afraid of rejection. They’ll cut through your walls and uncover your masks for you so that you can finally get the happy ending that you deserve. They’ll be your knight in shining armor except that instead of saving you they’ll get you to save yourself. If you ever try to push them away, they’ll only come back stronger and needier. You won’t get rid of them easily.

[edges-of-night]

Hii! <3

I wanted to request imagines for reader taking care of the lotr characters (preferably all, but if that’s too much then at least the women and maybe Aragorn and Faramir too) when they’re sick/injured for whatever reason

(I love your imagines so much, the way you characterize them all is so perfectly amazing💜)

Thank you for your kind words! I did all of my usual characters because I love hurt/comfort and sick!fic scenarios that much haha! I hope you will enjoy your post ♡

Have a great weekend everybody!

CW: injuries and illnesses, mention of blood

･ﾟ✧ Aragorn.

While Aragorn’s heroic sacrifice didn’t cost him his life, it took a heavy toll on him. Lucky for him, you’ve spoken often enough about medicinal herbs and healing practices – you are able to take great care of him, bedded on his white linens. Even when he is still too weak to speak, Aragorn will hold your gentle hand.

.

･ﾟ✧ Arwen.

You return so often to Arwen’s bedside that you wonder if it would be easier to just stay – but you know that privacy and rest are just as important as her wish to hold your hand. Whenever you’re with her, you tend to her wounds or read her passages from her favourite book to make her smile, which Arwen appreciates immensely. As she rests, she plans on properly kissing you as soon as she’s healthy.

.

･ﾟ✧ Boromir.

Boromir hates that a common cold has him chained to the bed for over a week now. But he’d lie if he said he didn’t enjoy you taking care of him – even though you do tease him and his constantly red nose from time to time. It’s all in good fun though, and he cannot wait to hold and kiss you again!

.

･ﾟ✧ Elrond.

When Lord Elrond returned to Rivendell injured, your heart skipped a beat – he is the most skilled Elvish healer around – who else could treat the gaping, magical wound in his side? The honour is bestowed on you, and you master it despite your nervous mind. Nothing is greater encouragement than finally seeing Elrond’s summer eyes greet you again ♡

.

･ﾟ✧ Éomer.

The Rohirrim have all kinds of names for the strange fever that has befallen their dear Éomer – but no methods of healing. They consider it an impossible challenge for you to tame his feverish, sweaty body and nonsense mumblings. But, somehow, the horse lord calms whenever you reach his bedside, sighing when you change the wet cloths on his forehead and rest your hand on his chest.

.

･ﾟ✧ Éowyn.

Initially, Éowyn thinks nothing of the cut she got during sword lessons. But days of ignoring the wound on her hand could put her in grave danger, you know that – and thus offer to take a look and do what you can. At first, Éowyn protests, but she falls silent as soon as you turn her hand in yours, unaware of how soft her expression grows… She admires your medical knowledge, too! “Is there at all something you cannot do, you marvellous creature?”

.

･ﾟ✧ Faramir.

It takes days for Faramir to wake up. Many others believe him doomed and have given up on sitting by his side, trying new herbs and waters, only to see his crystal blue eyes open once more. But you have the matter-of-factly patience of a boat pushing its way through a deadly ocean. And indeed, on a moonlit night, Faramir’s gentle gaze awaits when you return to his side, whispering, “Thank you for believing in me, my love.”

.

･ﾟ✧ Frodo.

Sometimes you wonder if you are the only person to have consideration for both the physical and the mental wounds Frodo has endured. You always make sure he’s fine and support him when thoughts of the big scar on his chest sends him to dark places inside his mind. You both know that those wounds take much more time to heal than the cut itself, and Frodo is more than glad to have you by his side. To soothe him, you caress the scar.

.

･ﾟ✧ Galadriel.

Ever since a mysterious malady has befallen Lady Galadriel, Lothlórien is in turmoil. No one would even let you near her – until she ordered her guards away, to allow you to treat her with your medical and arcane knowledge. In fact, you become the only one she wishes to see in her elegant rooms at all. Despite her current weakness, her ethereal beauty and soft smiles make it hard for you to concentrate…

.

･ﾟ✧ Gandalf.

Out of breath, you hurry to Gandalf’s beside with that one legendary flower needed to cure him. He insists you be the one to prepare the potion, too. Day and night, you try to perfect his medicine, always worried his state might get worse. When Gandalf finally drinks your potion, the wound on his chest closes magically. But it’s nothing to Gandalf, who has trusted you entirely: “I never doubted you for a moment, my dear.”

.

･ﾟ✧ Gimli.

After Gimli’s accident in the mine, you were right by his side to ensure his head injury wouldn’t get much worse. His headache is hurting badly though, and your proud Dwarf is but a shadow of himself. He knows rest would be best for him, but it’s hard for him to stay away from work and banquets alike. Still, he appreciates that you pamper him with his favourite baked goods and healing kisses on his head ♡

.

･ﾟ✧ Haldir.

Haldir is not an easy patient, but that doesn’t stop you from treating his catastrophic shoulder, which he has ignored for days on his way through the woods of Lórien. Spread onto linen sheets beneath you, he grunts and cringes – as much as his half-dead stone face can, that is – under both your touch and your harsh words. But deep down, he knows you were simply worried – and honestly, he doesn’t quite know how to deal with that!

.

･ﾟ✧ Legolas.

It seemed inevitable that Legolas would someday break a leg because of his acrobatic archery skills, and yet you are surprised. Elves heal quickly, but Legolas suffers greatly under his involuntary immobility. You help him by recounting his favourite quest stories and eventually by supporting his first tentative steps outside, which he thanks you for with the stormiest embraces ♡

.

･ﾟ✧ Merry.

Merry thinks he can walk of anything – even an injured knee. He doesn’t want you to think of him as weak or unable to take care of himself. But even Merry can only play down a limp for so long. Truth be told, he is actually relieved that he no longer has to hide the pain, and that you spreading balm on his knee is no ordeal but in fact a very sweet gesture.

.

･ﾟ✧ Pippin.

Pippin has been sneezing and stumbling for days, eventually falling into bed with the biggest groan you have ever heard come out of him. He is a “suffering” patient and you know it. But while Pippin greatly enjoys you pampering him with food, tea and blankets, he secretly cannot wait to take care of you in return – no matter if you’re sick or not! “It’s you’re not actually sick, or else I couldn’ave kissed you!”

.

･ﾟ✧ Sam.

Gardening involves many dangers, and although Sam has been practising it since childhood, he eventually hurts himself on his gardening knife. The cut is deep and won’t stop bleeding, but you are quick to bandage it and remind him to change the fabric once a day. But Sam has trouble keeping his thoughts straight, when all he can think about is you holding his hand in yours, all close…

[goldenhands]

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[crystalmunchies]

Why Should You Buy Crystals?

Crystals are pretty and mystical, and they are attractive enough to capture the imagination. They just might be one of the most popular trends in women's jewelry.

Some people believe that holding crystals or placing them on different areas of the body gives you physical and mental benefits. The idea is that crystals by interacting with the body’s energy field can create balance and alignment. For that to happen you need to buy healing crystals. Many people prefer crystals for stress and focus, while others believe that crystals can heal physical ailments and illnesses.

Crystals are made from a group of minerals. They have both simplicity and beauty. They are semi-rare stones — some are clear and some have bright colors. Crystals are compact with amazing properties that forge positivity into the life of the wearer. Different types of crystals deliver different energies, and you always get a positive feeling while getting rid of stress from your life. In order to get benefitted from any crystal’s calming and purifying properties, you must keep the crystals around you. 

The best way you can make a fashion statement with crystals is by wearing a crystal bracelet. The natural stones have amazing colors and patterns and they can become a unique fashion touch to your attire. Crystal Munchies is a reliable name when it comes to natural stones and crystal jewelry, decorations, rings, bracelets, pendants, sage, crystal candles, etc. From them, you can get affordable, personal, authentic crystals.

You can even buy different types of healing crystal earnings to keep crystal with your body’s touch. Reach out to the most reliable crystal supplier near you and bring home the positivity of crystals.

[megamindsecretlair]

Mr. Black, Part 6

Pairing: Tre x Assistant!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. FLUFF. FILTH. PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (fem receiving), oral (male and fem receiving) , spanking, dirty talk, praise kink, mentions of female anatomy, dumbass reader, power imbalance, Tre is a boss, all consensual.

Summary: Tre has an unexpected surprise for you that leads to even more conversations about...whatever the hell this is between you. You do end up loving the surprise and you get a bigger peak inside that gorgeous head of his.

Word Count: 10,614k

A/N: I promise not all of my fics will be this long moving forward! This was the most self-indulgent fic I've ever written and it healed something in me LOL. As an update, I had Covid this past week and I'm just getting my strength back. Please be kinder to your faves! I am over the moon that you enjoy my works and look forward to the next chapter, but let's keep it cute. My family are my opps and do not like to see me happy. If ya'll only knew what I had to endure writing this...These updates will take time. And I'm doing this for free! This is a hobby! I'm not a smut machine. Let's stay mindful of that. To prove you actually read this far, put your fave fruit in the comments! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 7 | Part 8 - Completed

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The week between Christmas and New Year’s was a lawless haze spent mostly in Tre’s bed. You hadn’t seen your place all week and it should bother you. There was no mention of it. There was no conversation to be had. He just kept inviting you back to his place and you kept saying yes. 

He got you a hygiene kit complete with a Coach bag to put it in. You told him you could just pack something from your place, but he wouldn’t hear of it. You had your very own electric toothbrush sitting on his sink.

Every time you went to the bathroom, you stared at the thing as if it could come alive at any moment. It was a courtesy thing, nothing more. It didn’t mean you were moving in. You were quickly realizing that Tre might’ve lacked proper social skills. With all his big talk, he lacked the cues necessary to clue you into whatever the fuck was going on with him. 

He couldn’t possibly think that he could get you a hygiene kit, keep pajamas over - not that you used them much - and you would just smile and wave and move into his fucking house?! 

The past week, he had kept you in a near-permanent sex fog. He still ate you out at work, stating that he simply liked the taste of you on his tongue while he dealt with the company hemorrhaging money at an alarming rate. He told you that your sweet taste made dealing with idiot managers worth every solid minute.  

He still had you suck him off in the morning, stating that he loved nothing more than pumping you full of him to start your day. He was able to work harder and smarter with empty balls and thoughts of what he was going to do to you later at his place. 

There wasn’t enough time to really talk. There was this burning obsession with each other that didn’t seem to let up as the week went on. Every time you finished having sex, you wanted to crawl under his skin and do it all over again. You couldn’t get him out of your system. In between sex marathons, him cooking, and your conversations about interests, there wasn’t enough time to discuss the whole…headband situation. 

You sat at your desk presently and your eyes kept flickering towards the front of the building. You couldn’t see much past the desks and chairs. The thought of Miss Headband returning made you ill. You were comfortable with the knowledge that Tre was yours in whatever capacity this was, but uncomfortable that Brianna thought she could walk in whenever she wanted.

What stopped any of his other conquests from walking through the door? Or calling you to set up dick appointments with him? You hadn’t been working for him long but you wouldn't be surprised if he had past assistants schedule such things. 

Your nails tapped on your desk. Your jealousy was showing. And it didn’t suit you well to show it at work where anyone could see. You needed to put an end to the uncertainty. If Tre had a black book, he needed to burn it right this second. He wasn’t going to need it anymore. 

Panic was a funny thing. Sometimes, it felt like a bubbling pot of oil sludging through your veins. Sometimes, it felt like a thousand tiny insects with wings fluttering beneath your skin. You felt a mixture of both as you checked your mental status.

Maybe Tre was rubbing off on you too much. Your friends had said you were turning distant lately. You usually told them everything, but how did you even begin to describe what the hell this was? 

It started off as something hot and naughty between you and your boss. Everyone had that fantasy right? Being railed against an office desk until your eyes were crossing and you were screaming in pleasure? 

All your life, you thought there was a schedule and order to these things. You meet a man, you go on a few dates, you explore interests together, and you date some more. You meet the friends and get their stamp of approval. Then it’s the family’s turn. You move in with each other to see if you could cohabit a space together. Perhaps get an animal together to see if you can take care of a living thing as a  precursor to kids. Then, there’s some wholly romantic and unique proposal with the help of your friends or family. A wedding, a honeymoon, boom, pop out some kids and build a life together. 

This was so fuckin’ backwards, you  didn’t know where to start besides him swatting your ass. There have been no dates, just earth-shattering, world-ending orgasms, a few items at his place, and you left in a perpetual state of what-the-fuck? 

Order and schedules made sense to you. It kept you on track. This…was messy as hell. 

You sighed audibly and rubbed your head. It was too much thinking and it was giving you a fuckin’ headache. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You yelped and jumped in your seat. The chair went rolling to the left as you looked to the right to see Tre half sitting on your desk. Where the fuck did he come from?

“You scared the hell outta me!” You placed your hand against your chest to see how fast it was going. 

“Maybe you should stop daydreaming at work,” he said with that damn smirk on his face. 

You rolled your eyes. “I wasn’t daydreaming, I was thinking,” you told him.

He sighed audibly and hung his head. “Nothing good ever comes from you overthinking,” he said.

“Shut up. It’s not overthinking. Logic calms me down,” you said.

His smirk returned. “I can think of something else that’ll calm you down,” he said.

“Shh!” You looked around the empty office. It was lunchtime and sunny outside, so everyone went out to the food trucks to take advantage of the warm weather. Still, you had to be cautious from anyone who might overhear. 

You moved to stand up but Tre blocked your path. “Not hungry?” You asked.

Tre smiled and looked off into the distance. He took a few steadying breaths and looked back at you. “Got you on a schedule already,” he said.

Now it was your turn to look away with a goofy grin on your face. His words brought to mind something Brianna mentioned. 

“Hey, what did Brianna mean by 'training me’?” You asked.

“I’ll explain all that. First, let’s go. We’re gonna be late,” he said. 

“Late for what?” You asked. You turned to your computer, bringing up his schedule. The weekend had been blocked out without you noticing. He had no meetings or calls set up. “What is this?” 

You clicked through the change history but Tre put his hand over yours to stop you. “It’s okay, I handled it.” 

“Handled it? I’m the one that handles your schedule! When did you do this?” You asked. You literally had one job and you were too distracted this week to notice that he had been shuffling and moving things around. 

You tried to picture him being sneaky and dealing with other assistants while he moved meetings. You pictured getting a random call from someone with a voice like his. A voice made for phone sex and your panties were already growing damp thinking about it. Yeah, he could finagle his way through just about anything if he had half a mind. 

“Come on!” He grinned and pulled you from your seat. You had just enough time to grab your purse. He held your hand as he pulled you through the empty office. Panic jumbled your nerves. Instead of pulling you to the front of the building where the food trucks were, he pulled you to the back of the building.

You knew there was a back of the building, conceptually, but you didn’t know there was an entrance this way. You were hired in the mix of things and you didn’t get an official tour before diving in and picking up the slack. 

There was nobody back here as he swiped his badge and you were let out into a parking lot. It was small, filled with only a few expensive cars. 

“You have a private parking area? Ya’ll suck,” you giggled. 

Tre tugged you towards his car. You weren’t good with car brands but you were pretty sure it was a Lexus SUV. He opened the door for you and motioned for you to get in. 

“What about my car?” You asked.

“I took care of it,” he said with that damn smile. 

“What the hell is going on?” You asked. You placed your hands on your hips and faced him completely. 

Instead of answering, Tre looked at his watch. “You have about two minutes before the other managers pull in and see you hopping in my car. I’m sure they will have thoughts about it,” he said.

Your fear of being discovered was greater than your need for knowledge. You could needle him in the car. You hopped inside with his help and then he closed the door with instructions to put your seatbelt on. You rolled your eyes and did it, not because he said so, but because it was sensible. 

Tre rounded the front of the black truck and hopped in himself. He sighed with a smug smile on his face and started the car. His windows were tinted well past the legal limit. But you had a feeling he just didn’t give a shit. 

He pulled out of the parking lot just as a smaller sedan was pulling in. You sank down in the seat but Tre only chuckled at you. Clear of the parking lot, he swiftly pulled onto the freeway.

“Okay, I’m in the car. What the hell is going on?” 

“You know, you’re cute as hell when you’re confused. You get a little crinkle in your nose,” he said. He sped up on the mostly clear freeway and you narrowed your eyes at him. 

“You’re not going to tell me no matter how many times I ask, huh?” You asked.

He grinned and flicked his eyes to you. “Look at you catching on,” he said.

You growled and folded your arms across your chest. You turned away from him as much as you could in the seat and looked outside the window at the passing cars and freeway signs. You could tell that you were heading North but anything could be North. 

“I promise you’ll like the surprise,” he said.

“I don’t like not knowing what’s going on,” you said.

“I know. I’ll break you of that,” he said.

“Excuse me?” You flipped your head to look at him but he kept his eyes trained on the road. One hand was on the steering wheel and he slowly inched his other hand towards your thigh. He squeezed the bare skin, his pinkie lightly grazing your pink dress. 

You hated that your body reacted instantly. Your pussy fluttered and you were going to be damp in a minute thinking about that hand and all the nasty things he’s done so far. 

“I don’t repeat myself,” he said. 

You could be petty and point out that he’s repeated some things to you. But if he wanted to keep up his little fantasy, you weren’t going to cure him of it. As much as you liked to test his boundaries, you still had handprints on your ass from the last time you tried to get cute. 

You focused on just being able to breathe while his thumb rubbed your left thigh. Soft music played in the car, low enough to not be annoying, but high enough to get the general rhythm. 

The sights turned more industrial as you headed towards…LAX? Was he taking you to the fucking airport? 

He got off the ramp for it, circling around, and headed towards the entrance on Century. He joined the congested traffic as he took the ramp to departures. 

You huffed in disbelief. “You have to be joking. Where are we going? I haven’t packed, I haven’t got any supplies, I haven’t told anyone. I can’t–” 

“I had a lovely chat with your friend, Ka’ron, the other day. She’s a little mad you didn’t tell her about me. I’ll admit, I was a little hurt too,” he said. He talked as he maneuvered around the insane traffic at LAX. It was like people lost all sense of decorum at the airport. People weaved in and out with little regard to who was behind or beside them. They had no idea which terminal to get to or realize that they couldn’t park at the curb forever.

Buses and shuttles ran through the inner road of the airport. You still hated that they changed the flow of traffic. It seemed much more dangerous to have you stand at the outer curb to be picked up. And the construction for the incoming train was plain annoying. 

“You talked to Ka’ron?!” You screeched. Too many questions flowed through your head. How did he get her number? What did he even tell her? What the hell was this? 

“I told her that I wanted to surprise you with a trip and after she got done laughing at the surprise part, she helped me pack your bags this week.” 

Your eyes bugged out of your head. Your friend was going to murder you. After she got done begging for every last scrap of detail she could get out of you, she was going to murder you for not telling her sooner. 

“You have crossed so many–” 

“I also bought you new travel bags. I didn’t care that they didn’t match, but they were really raggedy,” he said. He pulled into long-term parking, grabbing a ticket from the kiosk, and the metal arm raised. He pulled in and began the search for a good spot. 

Gurgles of sounds escaped your throat but you couldn’t form a single sentence. Were you having a heart attack? Aneurysm? Were your blood vessels popping at this very instant? 

“She helped me find your passport,” he said. He turned and backed into the parking space.

In the middle of your meltdown, you could appreciate the slip of skin at his neck as he looked backwards to park. It was somehow hotter that he didn’t solely rely on the back-up camera. You’d dreamt of that open collar enough times to call yourself a stalker at this point. 

“Passport?!” Where the hell was he taking you? You weren’t going to say no to a free fucking trip. You weren’t that dumb. It was…the lack of consideration that bugged you. The fact that he’d been planning and plotting while he had you twisted up in all kinds of shapes no human body was meant to be contorted into. 

Or perhaps…it was a control thing. You were without an anchor or foothold in this. You didn’t see this coming at all. You had no say over where you were going, when you were leaving, when your friends would know about him, what they would know about him, what you would wear, or do. It was beyond unnerving. 

Tre shut off the car and got out, leaving no room for you to ask a thousand questions. You were still in your office attire for fuck’s sake? Not the most comfortable traveling outfit. There was no way in hell you were going through TSA in fucking heels. 

He rounded the car and opened your door for you, letting you out with a smug wink. He really didn’t see anything wrong with whisking you off to some exotic place without a conversation first. Had there been even a tiny ounce of communication beforehand, you wouldn’t be quite so shocked and pissed. 

Next, Tre went to the trunk and lifted the door, pulling out a rose gold London Fog suitcase and a complementary Coach duffle bag. Your mouth dropped open. It was so gorgeous, you drooled a bit as he pulled out his own black suitcase and duffle bag. He moved both to the side and then handed you a more personal bag.

“Move your things from your purse to that. We’ll put your purse in the trunk,” he said. You stared at him like he was some alien with four heads. 

He smiled and stepped closer to you, pulling you by the hips flush against him. You refused to give him any indication that this shit was okay. But he kissed your forehead, then your cheek, and pecked your lips. 

“Trust me. It’ll be good,” he said. 

You pressed your lips together and decided to surrender for the time being. Your boss…lover…boyfriend…was taking you somewhere and you didn’t have to lift a finger. There were worse arguments to be had. 

The personal bag looked like a smaller version of the duffle. You ran your hands over the soft fabric filled with tiny C’s and then opened it. Inside, there was your Kindle, various meds you may need, head scarf, sleep mask, and ear pods. There was also a brand new matching wallet that you transferred your ID and cards to. This whole thing was absurd but you let yourself enjoy it. 

Once done, he took your purse and placed it in the trunk in an innocuous box and closed it. “We’ll change in the lounge,” he said.

Your eyes bugged out again but he wasn’t going to answer a single fucking question so you let him grab your bags and walked over to the bridge connecting you to the terminal. There, he wheeled your bags to the check in counter. He pulled out both of your passports and handed them over to the agent.

She was an attractive Black woman with her hair pulled into a bun. She openly ogled your man so you moved next to him and peered over his shoulder. “Make sure I have the window seat, baby. You know I like to look outside when we take off,” you said and grinned at him, not looking at the woman at all.

Tre smirked down at you. He placed his hand on the small of your back and leaned down to kiss your cheek and then whispered in your ear. “You’re so sexy when you’re jealous.” 

The woman cleared her throat and finished taking the necessary steps to check in your suitcases with a much better, more professional attitude. You made sure to smile and thank her while he grabbed your duffle bags and personal bag from the counter. He scooped up your passports and tickets and tucked them into his bag. Then, he grabbed your hand and you moved on to the security line.

Getting through that was a headache all on its own, but once through, Tre pulled you towards a lounge. You knew they existed, you just never had the luxury of being inside one. It was quiet with muted lighting and a bar area where people sat for drinks and the latest game on TV. 

As he said, there were bathrooms and he told you there was a travel outfit in your bag. You stood in the fancy bathroom, half-giggling like a madwoman as you changed out of your dress into more comfortable clothing. You now had on black leggings, tennis shoes, a loose gray shirt, and a light gray sweater. That had been most of the bulk in your duffle, so you had room to fold up your dress. The heels were a bit of a problem, but that was okay. If they got messed up, you were making him buy you a new pair. And you’d only feel slightly guilty about it. 

After dressing, you went out into the lounge area. You skipped over Tre twice, not because you didn’t recognize him, but because you were surprised to see him outside of formal wear. Sure, you’d seen him lounge at home in his briefs, or the pajamas he wore to cook, but you had never seen him out and about in his element.

He wore black, of course, but it was a black Henley T-shirt with the sleeves rolled up, black jeans, black boots, and his glasses. He looked good enough to fucking eat and you had to stop just outside the door to admire how hot he was.

He was looking down at his phone so he hadn’t seen you walk out. But as if you were linked, he looked up at that moment and grinned. You walked over to the bar area and he grabbed your bags from you.

He grabbed your hands and opened them so he could take in your outfit. “You look so fucking gorgeous,” he said. 

“You clean up pretty well yourself,” you said. 

He held out the bar stool for you and helped you settle in. There was already a strawberry margarita sitting there for you and you sipped it, letting the frozen treat relax you. “Our plane leaves in an hour so you have time to finish,” he said.

“Any hint to where we’re going?” You asked.

He shrugged and sipped on his whiskey. “You’ll see at the gate,” he said.

“The only thing you can’t hide from me,” you said.

He grinned. “I could if I really wanted to. Make you wear your earphones the whole trip.” 

“I can see the board,” you said. 

“Not if I didn’t want you to,” he said.

You threw up your hands. “You know how insane this is right? Calling my friend, planning this behind my back, ambushing me in the middle of the work day? Where do people think you are?” 

“I am on my way to a conference for potential clients. Since I’m such an awesome boss, I gave you the weekend to spend with your family,” he said.

“No one’s going to buy that,” you said with a giggle. You wouldn’t buy that shit if you heard it. 

“They have no proof to the contrary. I know my methods are off, but I know a few ways you can thank me on the plane. I always wanted to join the mile high club,” he said and eyed your outfit. “Maybe we should’ve gone with something easier to take off.”

You slapped his thick arm. “Not on your life,” you said. The tips of your ears burned just thinking of it. Those tiny ass bathrooms ensured there was no way two people could fit. And you were not sucking him off in first class. He was too damn big for any other seating. 

He chuckled and sipped more of his drink. You talked more with him pointedly ignoring your questions until he looked at his watch. He grinned, that wide smile melting your insides, as he grabbed your things and took your hand.

The casual way he touched you, openly, in the airport where everyone was anonymous was a balm to your spirit. You didn’t know you needed this…validation of the two of you. You didn’t care what people thought of you to the extent that you were together. You were more concerned about office politics. If you wanted to be taken seriously, you couldn’t let the office gossips think you were sleeping your way to the top. 

Out in the open like this, you felt excited to be the one holding his hand while he guided you through the chaos of the airport. He walked leisurely to your gate. You frantically searched the boards for destinations. These were all domestic flights to the East Coast. Atlanta, New York, Chicago…

He stopped at a gate going to Miami. You eyed him as he took up a place near the gate. They were beginning to call for your group. 

“Now boarding first class to Jamaica, with a stop in Miami. Now boarding…” 

“Jamaica?!” You whispered to him and he grinned down at you. 

He squeezed your hand as he moved you in line, handing the agent your tickets, and then pulling you down the tunnel. You had no room to talk as he placed your bags in the overhead bin and you settled into the nicer seats in first class. For once, your big ass fit comfortably in the seat with enough foot room to swing your feet. 

Shit, after flying like this, you might have to do it all the time and leave your friends in economy. You were all going to the same place, you didn’t have to sit next to each other. The flight attendant asked if you wanted a drink as more people got onboard. You accepted a tequila neat and settled into your seat, wiping everything down with cleanser wipes you found in your personal bag. Your girl really fucking knew you.

“Bougie looks good on you,” he said as he watched you. 

“Shut up! I’m gonna enjoy the fuck out of this. When are we coming back?” You asked.

“Tuesday night,” he said. 

You couldn’t help looking outside, looking at the people who passed. You didn’t want to contain your excitement. As the boarding ended and the plane began to taxi down the runway, Tre settled in his seat and tapped your arm to get your attention.

“Why haven’t you told your friends about us?” He asked.

He wanted to discuss that now? “And say what? ‘Hey guys, what’s new with me? Well, my boss has been blowing my back out for the past few weeks?’” You whispered so everybody in first class wouldn’t hear your business.

He scrunched up his face. “It’s not official until your friends know. And I’m not just your boss,” he said. 

You threw up your hands. “What else am I supposed to call you?” 

“Your boyfriend?” Tre asked as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Boyfriend! That’s what you are?” You asked. 

The captain started speaking about preparing for liftoff, so you were spared a few moments as the flight attendants came around to collect trash and remind you about the trays. 

The plane took off and Tre never stopped looking at you. As it ascended, he leaned in so he could be heard over the roar of the engines and mounting pressure. 

“That’s exactly what I am. And I want you to tell them about me,” he said. 

You looked at him. He was serious about this shit. You didn't know what to say or what to call him. You guessed it was the logical step after declaring “you’re mine” while hopping on his dick. You licked your lips and nodded. “You’re my boyfriend. I’ll tell them when we land,” you said. 

He smiled and sat back in his seat as if it had been eating at him. The tension left his shoulders. When the plane leveled out, the flight attendants came around with warm peanuts and drinks. You got some water to balance the drinks you’d had. 

The plane ride to Miami was comfortable now that Tre decided to relax. You were able to joke with him about the book he chose to read while you whipped out your Kindle and awkwardly told him about the filthy book you were reading. You had a brief layover once you got to Miami. You collected shot glasses for your friends. 

The plane ride to Jamaica was smooth. You were flying into the night but the sight as you descended still stole your breath. The water was a mix of cerulean and true blue, with scores of seaweed you could see from the plane. The island didn’t look all that big flying overhead, but the hills were wide and varied in height. 

The plane had to turn to land into the small ass runway and you were half concerned as the captain easily guided the plane onto it. You rolled into the gate and Tre helped bring your bags down. 

The airport itself smelled like Shea butter and breezy sandy beaches and you inhaled deeply. You had traveled all over the world at this point with your girls. Hitting up spots in Europe and Mexico, but there was something so amazing about landing in a place with people that looked like you.

Everywhere you went, there was another Black face to greet you. There were fans up high blowing hot wind at you but to you, it was perfect. As you got off the plane, there was a man standing there with Tre’s name. He walked you past the long line to the left for regular people.

That line was long and looked unbearably hot as people stood there trying to get through customs. You assumed the young man was a driver with his company shirt and shorts on. You never saw anything like it. He guided you through the lane to the right, going down a ramp, and turning into a much shorter customs line. The agent at the gate checked in your passports, stamping them, asking routine questions.

Through, the driver stood off to the side while you waited for the bags. There were gorgeous Jamaican women with red outfits on helping people find their carousel and telling you to settle in for a long wait because they were slow. 

The accents were the best part. It sounded like coming home. A deep, ancient knowing made you feel at home here than you ever did in the States. Tre grabbed your bags from the carousel since they came out among the first bags. The driver took it from him and led you out of the busy airport.

There were just…Black people everywhere. For once, you didn’t feel like an oddball out when you traveled. Seeing Black faces was the norm. The driver took you through the final screening, handing over a form Tre filled out while on the plane. Then, you were out of the baggage claim area where even more people congregated. Bus drivers were trying to find people to scoop up, taxi drivers did the same, and there were so many guides waving signs for tours.

Outside, the air was balmy but comfortable and the driver led you to his car. There was nothing fancy about it, but you climbed in all the same while Tre talked with him. Then you were off.

You had to keep pinching yourself. Jamaica was gorgeous. The rolling grassy hills were interrupted by pockets of communities. You passed by signs of colonization. Plazas, houses, Popeyes. You giggled and pointed it out to Tre who just smiled like you were the most adorable thing on the planet.

It still blew your mind that he wanted to be your boyfriend. It seemed so high school the way you felt about it. But it felt right so you decided to go with the flow. By the time you made it to the adults only resort, you were absolutely tired. Tre told you to sit in the waiting area while he handled everything. 

In no time, you were showering in your suite still pinching yourself that this was actually happening. You had dinner, buffet style, and enjoyed part of that evening’s entertainment. There was live music and a dancing troupe that you half paid attention to. Now, you just wanted to crawl into bed but you still had so many questions.

You let Tre see your text message as you texted your friends that you arrived safely with your boyfriend. You had landed and your phone dinged immediately upon turning on. Ka’ron told your entire friend group that not only were you getting regular dick, you had been whisked away on a fancy trip on some real movie type shit. 

But Tre didn’t look satisfied with what you said. So you made him take a photo with you with the amazing view in the background. You confirmed that he was a sex god and you would give all the nasty details when you got back. He was much happier about the photo and asked you to send it to him. 

He was so…domestic and it was freaking you the fuck out. You didn’t have the energy to bombard him with millions of questions. He tucked you into bed and then you were drifting off to sleep, trying to remember everything you wanted to ask him. 

The next day, after breakfast, you took a look around the resort and everything it had to offer. There were multiple pools and a small beach area where you could go and relax. The resort had towels and pool equipment for you, but it was tied to your room number. If you didn’t return it when you were done, then it would be charged to your room. 

Ka’ron didn’t steer you wrong with the outfits she chose for the trip. All light, lounge wear that fit easily over skimpy bathing suits your friends made you buy. You had no intention of actually wearing them. But that was all she packed and the look on Tre’s face was worth it.

He was content to walk around like everything was fine, but your questions were burning you from the inside out. Worse than the damn sun. This was their milder season so you knew it could have been much, much worse. But the UV index was much higher so you stayed spraying on your sunscreen. 

You held hands and stopped at some of the gift shop areas spread around. There was an ice cream shop that sold coffee and meat pies. You got ice cream while Tre went for coffee. But his entire focus was on you licking your spoon.

You began to do it deliberately slowly, licking every inch. You put the end in your mouth and slowly withdrew it while keeping your eyes on him. Your body heated up from the way his eyes were trained on your lips. He caught every movement and swipe of your tongue across your lips to lick it up.

Tre grabbed your ice cream cup and threw it away. “Hey! I wasn’t finished!” You complained.

“I’ll buy you another one,” he said. The ice cream was “free” due to the all-inclusiveness of the resort package but you weren’t going to split hairs. Here, you and Tre were always on the same page. 

Your body responded to him like it had never done in the past with previous lovers. You felt him on a cellular level as your swimsuit grew damp from your arousal. He pulled you to the elevator and your room, barely opening the door before pulling you inside and slamming you up against the door. 

His lips crashed into yours, desperate and needy. Moans escaped you even as his beard tickled your face. You just wanted more. You pulled at his shirt and pants, undressing him just as he undressed you. He turned you around, pressing your chest against the door. He kissed your neck as he untied your top and lowered your bottoms. 

Your chest was still pressed to the door so your top didn’t fall just yet. Tre’s warm hand on your back prevented you from moving. He stepped closer and you felt the heat of his chest scald your back.

You trembled in the doorway. You wanted to see him and touch him too. But he only slipped his right hand around your hips to spread your pussy lips apart. You hissed as his fingers connected with your clit.

You felt him smile against your neck. “Already wet for me, little one?” 

Your head thumped against the door as he worked your wetness around your clit, diving into your pussy to gather more of your arousal and spread it around. He toyed with your clit, rolling around his fingers, and flicking it just the way you liked.

“Oh, shit, Sir,” you moaned against the door. Your cheek was pressed against it as he rubbed his erection against your ass. He nibbled on your ear, licking away any hints of pain. His left hand came up to grab your titty. He finally let the fabric fall as he pinched and rolled your nipple in time with his fingers on your clit.

“I want the neighbors next door to hear you screaming and call the front desk,” he whispered in your ear. 

Pinpricks of arousal traveled up and down your body. You could barely stay standing as that particular image flashed in your mind. “I want you to explain that it was just some enthusiastic play time and nothing to be concerned about.”

Your moans were pathetic and whiny as you raised up on tip toes trying to escape his fingers. But he only pressed into you further, pressing you against the cold door. You scratched at the wooden door. There was nothing to hold on to, nothing to help you as you cried out and the orgasm ripped through you like a thunderstorm. You were whipped about in a frenzy as the power of it stole your breath away. 

You cried as you calmed down. Tre withdrew his fingers and panted against your neck as if he had just gotten done fucking you. He audibly smacked his lips as he tasted you on his fingers and moaned as he licked every last digit. 

He roughly turned you again, slamming his lips against yours in a brutal kiss. You took control, kissing him and pushing at his shoulders. He raised an eyebrow at you as you dropped to your knees.

His dick twitched as you palmed him, running your fingers over him once before opening your mouth and sucking him inside. You licked him just like you did that ice cream spoon. Slowly and sensually and maintaining eye contact. He groaned, licked his lips.

“Oh, that’s how we doing it?” He asked. He sat back against the wall and you adjusted with him. Then you continued teasing him and sucking him into your mouth. You played with his balls and he moaned low in his throat. You rolled them with one hand while keeping your other hand braced against his thigh.

You licked him, running your tongue across his tip. “Mm, suck me down,” he said. But you ignored him, continuing to kiss your way up and down his shaft. He chuckles were stuttered and he shook his head.

“I’ll remember this when it’s your turn,” he promised darkly. You knew he was going to pay you back when you started teasing him. But you just liked the sound of him moaning for you even more. You sucked him all the way down, trying to fit as much of him in your mouth as you could. Then you started sucking on him like he liked. Rough, bruising, bullying your mouth with his dick.

“Unf, that’s it. That’s it right there,” he coached while he threw his head back and groaned. He released himself and you swallowed every drop. He took a few deep breaths before picking you up and bringing you to the bed. He spread your legs apart and looked his fill at your dripping pussy. 

“Wait! Fuck!” You didn’t need a break but you did need a tiny breather. You had been out in the sun all day walking and enjoying the day. But the feral gleam in that man’s eyes had you slightly worried that you were in danger.

“Tre,” you said, trying to get a handle on yourself. It wasn’t normal to want to throw common sense through the window and have him fuck your brains out. Right? 

“The fuck did you just call me?” He asked. His deep, rough voice turned even darker as his eyes narrowed behind his glasses. He slapped your pussy and you reared up, trying to scoot away from him.

He slapped it a few more times, each one stinging more than the last. The sting gave way to a burning coil of heat that had you moaning and moving your hips for more. You hated that he turned you into exactly what you didn’t want to be, a sex doll. Well, hell, there were worse things to be while underneath him. 

You stammered as you tried to think past the unbridled lust and need. 

“What’s my name?” He asked. He landed another smack against your pussy. You only grew more wet. The wet slaps were getting louder and filthier and he noticed. He didn’t wait long for you to respond before continuing to slap at your pussy until your legs were shaking.

“S-Sir,” you moaned. 

“What is it?” He asked. He tilted his head and you looked at him through that sex fog you’d grown accustomed to this past week. You could barely think of your answer, let alone make your mouth move, as he slammed two fingers inside you. 

“Oh fuck!” You moaned. Your hands gripped and let go of the sheets around you on the king sized bed. He pumped the fingers in and out of you, moving them around to feel every inch of your soaked walls. You moaned and whined, your needy sounds somehow turning you on even more. 

“What’s my name, little one?” You asked. 

“Sir! Sir!” You yelled out, cried out, in time for your orgasm to kick in, making you shiver in time with the frost from the AC. You shook, out of control, thighs trembling and knees buckling. If you were standing, you’d have collapsed to the floor. 

Tre scooted in, making sure your legs couldn’t close. “Remember our safe word?” 

You nodded dumbly. “Candy cane,” you muttered.

He dropped his head to your belly, placing soft kisses there. “Only you can turn me into a fucking animal,” he whispered against your skin. You giggled as he continued to attack your plump belly with kisses. 

He licked the swell of your breasts and moaned at your taste. You reached out and grabbed his dick, played with the precum between your bodies. He moaned and ground his hips into you, rocking with every swipe. You flicked your thumb across the tip, flicking all that pre against the tip of his dick. He sighed and groaned under your touch, latching on to your nipple and suckling you.

It began to dry up so he pulled away and dropped to his knees. “Please, Sir. I need you,” you said.

He took off his glasses and tossed them onto the bed. You grabbed them and placed them on your chest to keep them safe. There was a bite of cold from the metal but it quickly warmed. You didn’t want to get lost gripping the white sheets in desperation and accidentally crush them. Tre watched the movement and his eyes turned darker still, a thousand yard stare entering his gaze. 

Sweat gathered at his brow, rolling down the side of his sweet ebony skin and sliding into his beard. His breathing was erratic as he lowered against your pussy lips and drew your legs over his shoulders. 

His fingers dug into a deep massage of the back of your thighs as he nosed through your wet slit. You bit your lip and gyrated your hips, unable to control yourself from moving. He suckled one of your pussy lips into his mouth, pulling to the point of pain and you cried out. 

You had no idea how you were going to survive another one but you weren’t going to tap out. You needed him just as badly as he needed you. Needed this. This was the only time you felt like you were on the same page. The only time you felt connected, mind to mind. 

He moaned, inhaling your scent and swiping his tongue out. You were still so sensitive from your earlier orgasms that you twitched with every pass. The massage on your thighs already had your back arching off of the bed, but when he finally dived in and wrapped his sexy lips around your clit, you were crying out and clutching his head. 

“Oh shit!” You moaned. This was different. This was him trying to prove something. Or earn something. He suckled on you, hard, pulling waves of pleasure from you and making you whine and groan and scream to the sky. Perhaps he would get his wish and the front desk would be calling you any minute, asking if everything was okay.

No, everything was not fucking okay. You were getting the life sucked out of you and it was bordering on painful. It felt too fucking good as he licked and moaned his way in between your legs. His tongue speared in and out of you, mimicking how he was going to fuck you. One of his hands disappeared from your thighs and you felt him groan and tug on himself. 

“That’s my job, you know,” you managed to breathe out.

He huffed against your pussy, rolling his tongue around your clit in small, tight circles that made your eyes cross. His tugs grew rougher and you panted to get enough oxygen to form a thought.

“That’s mine,” you said before succumbing to another orgasm. This was brutal and unforgiving. It blinded and deafened you. Sweat gathered everywhere. Pooled in the crevices of your skin. Your thighs locked his head in and he kept going, kept working his jaw to wring every last bit of it out of you. 

Your knuckles hurt from clutching the sheets so hard as you came and came, wave upon wave of pleasure soaking the sheets beneath you. Tre licked up everything you gushed out. You twitched with every pass, too overstimulated. 

Your cry was small and weak and he finally stopped, kissing up your thighs and over your belly. His hands roamed your body, touching every inch he could. He rubbed feeling back into your limbs, anchoring you in place and bringing you back to the world of the living. 

Your essence dripped nastily from his beard and he swiped a hand down to work it in. “I like when you get possessive. You said this was yours?” Tre stood over you, peering down at you. He tugged on his thick erection and it jerked as you struggled to your elbows to hold yourself up. 

It looked fucking painful the way it strained away from him, veiny, and begging for you. You licked your lips. Fuck, you wanted to taste him. Wanted him to feel just as good as he made you. 

“Mine,” you huffed out. 

He swiped his hand through your slopping juices and coated his dick with it, rubbing himself and groaning as he looked into your eyes. “One day, I’ma paint your belly with my cum and see how many paintings I can make.” 

Your pussy clenched sharply and you moaned at the mental image. You needed him to do that, like right now. Something on your face made him grin and huff a laugh. He gripped your legs and tugged you closer, ass half-hanging off the bed. 

“I like the idea of stuffing you more. Fucking my cum into you and painting your insides with everything I can give you,” his rubbed the top of your thighs and your hips. His hands were always deliciously callused and it worked at turning your body into jelly. 

“I want everything,” you said. You gave him puppy eyes as your voice turned soft and girly, small with need. 

His hand went to your face as he leaned over you. Your sweaty bodies rubbed together and you moaned, pulling him closer by his hips. He watched you rub against him, grabbing his ass with one hand and pulling him into you.

Your head was deliciously empty. You were operating on basic instinct. You just wanted him inside of you. You just wanted to be connected to him. Claimed by him. He moved his hips, rubbing his fat dick against your folds. You were trying to move him inside of you but he was too big for all of that. He’d have to be guided in. 

“You want this dick, little one?” He asked. 

The pet name was like a dose of dopamine that traveled from your brain to the tips of your toes. It relaxed you further, making you smile goofily at him. 

“I want that dick, Sir,” you moaned. 

He pulled you by the chin for a sweet, tender kiss that made your eyes water. He used his other hand to guide him inside you. That was anything but tender. He shoved inside and your mouth dropped open.

He groaned as he looked at you and began to pump his hips at a fast, punishing pace. You couldn’t breathe. You would probably pass out in a second. Your mouth flopped like a fish as he found a spot deep inside you already. You felt full and connected just like you wanted, getting closer to him every time he was inside you.

“Breathe, little one. I don’t want you passing out on me,” he said against your lips. He kissed you as if to give you the very breath you desperately needed. You gasped and sucked in as much air as you could while he was currently stealing it from your body.

Fuck, you felt electric. On top of the world. You felt like you could do anything now that he was inside you. You rolled your head, unable to choose a position to hold and keep it. He felt too fucking good pumping into you. 

Your arms trembled from trying to hold yourself up but it was important to you to stay like this. Stay close like this. Your head was bent towards his. His lips were pressing sweet kisses to your forehead and cheeks. You returned his sweet kisses so at odds with how he was fucking you.

And make no mistake, this was pure, animalistic fucking. He was rutting inside of you. “Fuck,” he moaned. “Feel so fucking good.” 

You clenched around his dick. His moans made you greedy for more. You felt invincible. Power drunk. You rendered a powerful man like him speechless and sloppy as his hips jerked against you. 

He stopped to adjust himself, lifting one of your legs higher and then he set to work again. You grabbed his forearms and held on, looking into each other’s eyes, as your moans matched. Your face started to contort with a rising orgasm.

“Mhm, let that shit go. Let me feel you flooding this dick. Get that dick wet for me,” he cooed. 

“Sir, Sir,” you moaned. Your nails dug into his arms as you leaned your head back and it finally overtook you. “Ouue, fuuuuck, babbyyy,” you moaned as you came. Your body convulsed on his dick, flooding him just the way he wanted with your slick.

“Fuck, I feel it. Feelin’ that shit,” he groaned. He hung his head as you closed your eyes. Stars exploded behind your eyes. You closed them tightly, trying to survive this. Trying to survive him and his body. 

His own orgasm was ripped from him, soaking you in his cum. You felt it pulsing inside of you, pumping load after load. His hips still snapped inside of you, fucking it even deeper. You held on, your head against the bed and flopping from side to side as you cried and moaned, shaking on his dick.

Tre panted and groaned, his hips slowing down. Fuck, you were definitely going to feel this shit later. He dropped against your shoulder, off to the side and careful to avoid his glasses on your chest. He licked and kissed on your neck as he panted and recovered.

You messily sucked in air. He’d already seen you in a bonnet and shower cap, you were out of dignities to spare. You massaged the back of his neck while he laid there. He groaned, tension leaving his body in visible waves. 

He softened inside of you and slowly pulled out. He leaned back into standing, so he could open your legs and watch his cum spill out. He licked his lips as if he still wanted to play with you but you were both too fucking tired to do anything but huff and look towards the ceiling. 

He flopped beside you, wiping sweat from his brow. You yawned, but he told you not to fall asleep.

Not to fall asleep? How could you not? Your poor vagina was begging you for a break and he wasn’t giving an inch. 

You heard him flittering around the suite. You distantly heard water running and then he was running a warm towel between your legs. You hissed at the contact, the soreness, the desperation finally leaving your bones for the time being.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” he whispered as he cleaned you up. He disappeared again and then he was back, picking you up and scooting you further up the bed. Somehow, he produced a tray of fresh fruit and made you sit up to eat and drink the water that was also on the tray.

“Where did this come from?” You asked.

“I sent for it while I was cleaning myself off. I think you dozed off,” he said. He had a proud grin on his face and you rolled your eyes. Yes, yes, we all knew he was a sex god capabale of fucking you to sleep. 

You nodded and opened your mouth while he popped a strawberry in. The fruit was delicious and refreshing after something so intense. The last thing you wanted was to eat or drink. But he pointed out that you needed something besides your light breakfast and ice cream. 

You were sitting against the headboard, letting the coolness ease your feverish skin. Your legs were tucked in and he closed the distance, sitting as close as possible to you while staying in front of you.

“I owe you some answers. But first, I want to say that this was an apology trip and fucking,” he said.

“Apology?” Shit, you really couldn’t think. Your thoughts were…nonexistent. 

“I owe you an apology for not letting Brianna know that we were done. That she couldn’t just walk into the office whenever she felt like anymore. We ran in the same circles and shared the same tastes. I like my women to be a little submissive in the bedroom. Tying them up, controlling their orgasms, the whole bit. That’s what she meant by training. She thought I trained you to call me, Sir.” 

He hadn’t, not really. It was a default to call your bosses Ma’am or Sir or whatever they preferred to be called unless they gave you permission to call them by their name. A holdover from your old school grandparents to teach you manners. Tre terrified you in the beginning, you had honestly been too afraid to call him anything else. 

He told you more about how he usually got with his women. He found that he was into the whole scene life from his time experimenting in college. He didn’t “do” relationships. In every sense of the word, you were his first real relationship. He was so focused on getting things together, he skipped over a dozen or so steps and just wanted you by his side. 

It was…sweet and started to answer a lot of fucking questions about him. 

“I knew that I fucked up with the Brianna thing, I heard how she was speaking to you. We spent the lunch hour talking about how we were over whether she liked it or not. She kept asking what made you so special. And I just kept telling her everything. Everything made you special.” 

Your eyes were starting to tear up so you bit your lip to keep from making them fall. He was being so damn sweet and open, it was tearing you to pieces. 

He looked away, looked down at your legs. His hands idly rubbed your calf as he talked more. “I knew I needed to make it up to you beyond just saying sorry or taking you to dinner. I needed you to know I’m serious,” he said.

You reached out and caressed his cheek, tugging on his beard. “Trust me, I know you’re serious,” you said with a giggle. 

He shook his head. “I know I ambushed you with this. But there’s still so much I don’t know about you. I heard you talking to Ka’ron one day and knew she was the main one to ask about this. When she said she never heard of me, I will admit, that hurt.” 

He said as much back at the airport. You dropped your hand to his, to the one drawing circles on your calf. You squeezed his hand and looked into his open, brown eyes. “I’m not ashamed of you. I didn’t know how to explain it. You’re still my boss,” you said.

“I’m not just your boss,” he said. 

“No, but…sometimes you push forward and there’s never a conversation in between. Like you decide all these things in this…relationship but you don’t tell it to me. You leave ‘me’ out of the relationship and that’s no way to be together. I need that conversation to ground me. I’m not a mind reader.”

“I can’t help it. It feels like I’m always trying to gauge whether you have one foot in or one foot out. I feel like…I have to catch you by surprise,” he said.

That was fair. You had a history of running and being scared. You were constantly running from situations that were too real, too honest. You hated that you weren’t always seen as the “fun, uncomplicated” girlfriend. When guys pushed for more, you were the first out of the door and onto the next one. Over and over, ready to bolt at the first sign of something being real. 

“I am in. I am yours. I am not going anywhere,” you said. “I promise to talk to you first if I ever feel like bolting. But that’s just it! I don’t feel like bolting with you.” 

You still felt panicked sometimes, like you couldn’t breathe with the mounting pressure and knowledge that all of this could come crashing down on your head. That everyone would find out and snicker and laugh you out of the office. That Tre would realize that he was dating someone so far beneath his league, it was laughable. 

“I feel like you’re going to realize we’re not on the same level,” you admitted.

“We’re not. You’re so far out of my league, I don’t know why you’re here,” he said.

You looked at him, waiting for him to laugh or yell, “Gotcha!” It never came. He was fucking serious. The realization made you look at him like he was crazy. 

“Get the fuck out,” you said and shook your head, laughing. 

“I’m very serious,” he said. You felt like you knew him by now. He didn’t “do” humor that much either. He made you laugh and you had fun watching comedy specials together, but for the most part, he was deadly serious. 

“You are the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever met. You’re smart, funny, and you can talk about so much shit I never heard about. I feel like I have to shower you with gifts and trips to make you like me,” he said. 

You pushed at his chest. “You’re so full of shit and I’m not falling for it. I’m not after your money!” 

“I know,” he said with that shit-eating grin you’re so fond of. “I check the statements. You haven’t used my card once. What’s up with that?” 

You threw up your hands. “Did Brianna ever get a card?” You asked. You couldn’t look at him while you asked that question. You didn’t want to compare yourself to Lil’ Miss Headband but you needed to know. 

“You are the only one I’ve ever trusted my money to,” he said. He brought your hand to his lips. 

You sighed quietly, loving to hear that. You’d just about die if it turned out that he gave every little woman he slept with a card. 

“Sounds like we’re both harboring shit instead of talking,” you said. 

He nodded. “We promised honesty from here on out, yeah?” He asked.

You nodded, popping a grape into your mouth. “Total honesty. No matter how scared we are or how much it hurts.” 

Tre sucked his teeth and fought you for a piece of cheese. “Ain’t nobody scared,” he said. 

You laughed and called him a liar and continued to talk a few things out. He didn’t mind reassuring you over and over that you were the only one he’d really been with. You still found it hard to believe, you had eyes. 

His ego needed no stroking as he confirmed that there were always women after him but it was hard to tell if they wanted him or his money. He had no problem treating his lady, but when it was expected and not appreciated, it got old fast. You respected it. You’d still have a hard time believing it though. 

You spent the rest of the weekend, much more relaxed that you didn’t have the weight of Brianna hanging over your head. You were able to swim and venture out into Jamaica to a local shopping place with women selling wares. A lot of it was the same thing from stall to stall and you felt bad having to tell a lot of them no. Tre was patient and let you get however many souvenirs you wanted for your friends. 

You spent New Year’s with him inside of you, making you beg for mercy until your voice gave out and your body quaked. You got your kiss at midnight. It was sloppy and wet and perfect. 

Unfortunately, you had to return home to a million calls from your friends and family. Cat was out of the bag officially. You made sure that Tre knew it was all his fault to which he only grinned and asked which house you were visiting first. But now that you were back in sunny California, a pit gnawed in your belly.

You didn’t know how to broach the subject. You had planned to tell him when you weren’t tearing each other’s clothes off last week, but then the trip threw you for a loop. 

He brought you to your place, after you had to practically grab the steering wheel and make him drive you to your place and not his. You made sure he knew that you weren’t trying to leave him, you just had things to check on and he was perfectly capable of coming to your place. Unless he’d spontaneously burst into hives from not sleeping on black sheets. Traveling was a fluke, the rules didn’t apply while on vacation. 

“Oh, we got jokes,” he said and grinned on the way to your place. “I’ll remember that tomorrow.” He kept that evil grin on his face and you shuddered to think of what he had planned while you clenched your thighs together.

At your place, you stopped him from getting out of the car with a hand on his. He looked at you, growing more and more concerned as he looked at your face. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“I don’t know how to just blurt this out,” you said. Your leg bounced in your seat. Your street was quiet for once, no one outside to distract you.

“Hey, total honesty.” 

You nodded. “I was going to tell you last week but…” You took a deep breath and then closed your eyes. Rip that bandaid off.

“Someone’s stealing a shit ton of money from the company.”

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 7 | Part 8 - Completed

[astrologicaldreamin]

Solar Return Chart Observations v1

Now that I am nearing my solar return of 2024, I was hoping to recap and try to digest what my 2023 chart connected to. It was a very big year for me and I hope those with relatively similar placements may find something within it too.

SR Sun in the 12th house brought out a period of my life where my identity has been the topic of the season. I felt more illusive and there were also several external factors that brought said behavior out of me, such as questions arising out of education, career, and relationships. Everything was muddled, but crystal clear at the same time. During the beginning of the cycle, it was hard to distinguish between the two. Though 12th house energy can be heavy, by leaning into it and learning how to explore the depths and evasiveness further, I was able to genuinely discover the core of who I was. This is the perfect opportunity to discover YOU. (special mention: SR asc. within the 24°)

SR Venus in Cancer was a doozy, but one I am incredibly grateful towards. Naturally, Cancer sits within the 12th house of my natal chart, which I think amplified the emotional disturbances I have felt within the year. Ironically, romance has been fun and flirty, but the foundations of love have deeply altered me. What a home means and what it means to be loved was a huge growth aspect to overcome. Having deeper respect towards the innocence of things. (special mention: SR venus within the 24°)

SR 2nd House Ruler in Libra Moon had me spending a well-deserved, but focused attention onto self-care products and beautification of things. Compared to my natal chart and prior years, there has been a tendency for more emotionally-driven purchases, but ones that are teaching me to splurge out of love, not in lack. Watching my spending, but not naturally degrading myself for being "frivolous" ultimately strengthened my relationship with money for the better. Balance.

SR 10th House Ruler in Saturn/Uranus was quite noted throughout the year. Establishing identity has not only been a requirement, but almost chaotic and unpredictable force. My relationships with others no longer are the same, because the independence I had to adapt to greatly improved in its directness. Perception of the public was a core battle of the mind, but incredibly freeing. Others saw it too. Not everybody liked it. Potentially might be a lonelier year if this placement is within your chart, but it could remain the opposite depending on other factors. Not something to be discouraged by, since it is made for you to revel in becoming an abnormality. That, for others, can be intimidating. That does not make you wrong for it.

SR Pluto in Retrograde in the 8th House I can almost guarantee dominated every action and thought I have taken within the past year. It was an energy that not only requested, but demanded re-visiting past cycles that were considered "forbidden." I was continuously picking at wounds and other's, until I fell in love with the darkness again. Some may struggle more in this energy than others, but pulling off the bandaid over and over until there is enough breathing room to heal can prevent the resurfacing. "Until again..." typa energy. (special mention: SR pluto within the 0°)

[redjademilktea]

Okay one of the few times that whole "PhD student in history" thing is going to be relevant to anything I post here but last night's C3 episode has me feeling some sort of wayyyyy.

Specifically the part where they found those incredibly ancient elven ruins within the cave they were exploring. After barely escaping near-death, and Laudna fresh from deliberately channeling the darkness within her, they stumble across these ruins. Deep within a dark cave where they sought refuge from the harsh storms that plague the unforgiving Ruidian surface. Geodes full of sharp and jagged crystal jut out from the walls of cold, ancient rock. A river coming from some unknown source pouring into a rushing waterfall, leading away further into the depths. Matt did a phenomenal job painting the scene.

There, in those ruins - in that tomb, that crypt - they run across a hauntingly serene sight. Bones from the presumable inhabitants are crushed into the walls, unmoving. Frozen. Sharing the same space in a wonderful, striking, tragic, serendipitous juxtaposition is an enchanted garden. There, in the derelict remains of this once-vibrant space, the vestiges of that past life hold strong. A small bastion of life and healing amidst the monument of death and destruction.

It's within this space of dizzying contrast - air thick with the practically tangible weight of past tragedies - that Laudna finds a doll. A simple doll, devoid of features beyond the bare minimum that helps identify it. A toy, a companion? A relic of some child from so long ago. Laudna likes dolls. She decides - after asking permission - to keep it.

Now within her possession is a ghost. Not a literal ghost, mind you, considering those are in fact a very literal thing in the world Laudna lives in, but a ghost all the same. Through that doll, a child from untold centuries before is reaching, grasping at Laudna. This child, whose entire life, history, and experienced are lost to time - trapped in the past - has managed to pierce that temporal barrier and make themselves known to her.

In addition to this framing of a ghost, the doll can represent another type of haunting. That of a reencounter. Through this doll, this mundane object that often is filed away under the folder of insignificance, Laudna is confronted with the complicated web of violence, trauma, and grief that wraps around both her and the space around her. Laudna loves children. She has a childlike innocence that constantly bubbles at the surface. Yet beneath that is 30 years of unfathomable pain and loneliness.

Laudna, much like the ruins, is at times also frozen. Both physically in her unaging visage and mentally in the way she seems to revert in response to intense trauma.

So, within the confines of this long-forgotten space, the woman who just hours before channelled 30 years of darkness, anger, and hurt into a spell that served to strengthen her tormentor, picked up a doll. A doll that in so many ways symbolizes the innocence and joy that Laudna embodies, surrounded by tragedy.

It was such a beautifully haunting scene.

**If folks are interested, I am referencing the wonderful works of Avery Gordon in her book Ghostly Matters (1997) and Crystal Baik in her book Reencounters: On the Korean War and Diasporic Memory Critique (2019)**

[dailyakira]

home is where the heart is ft. tooru oikawa

gn! reader

a/n: hi guys! it's been a while since i've wrote a ff, so forgive me if it isn't that good. i've been fixating on haikyuu ever since the movie!! also this is not grammar checked.. i wrote this within an hour at 2 AM!!!

warnings: a bit angsty, tooth rotting fluff at a certain point, i forgot how to write, oikawa is sad and yearning, oikawa is scared to come back home, childhood friends to exes to something else?, tears are shed, please don't cringe i will cry

oikawa inhaled the familiar cool breeze surrounding him. he hadn't been in japan for years due to his hectic volleyball schedule. he was lucky enough to fly back for a short break before his season started again in a few months.

a wave of homesickness hit oikawa the second he landed. the memories of his mundane lifestyle in japan compared to his ever-changing way of life in argentina had shocked him.

oikawa wrapped his scarf around his neck tighter as snowflakes scattered from the skies. the delicate crystallized flakes began to litter his chestnut colored hair.

he hadn't told anyone that he was back in japan - oikawa felt no need to celebrate his arrival. he had burned too many bridges while chasing his dreams. arguments out of pure pettiness had ended relationships that he could never repair.

whenever oikawa thinks of japan, he thinks of you.

his dearest childhood bestfriend, who could never leave his side. until of course, he left for argentina without much of a say from you.

the only person he could say he loved, even through numerous flings and failed relationships.

he blames his fiery passion that became suffocating to be near. he blames his refusal to change his behavior. he blames every part of himself for driving you away.

because when he thinks of airports, he can't help but wander back to the memory of you not showing up to see him off. when he's gifted an alien keychain as a gag gift, he thinks of the two of you at ten years old, staring into the sky all night attempting to spot a flying saucer.

being back in his home country opens new wounds that he's tried to heal over and over. he wanted to enjoy his time off season without any worries.

his shoes tapped against the concrete evenly as he began to approach the convenience store. oikawa had left his hotel room earlier to clear his mind, and the only thing that could put him at peace was a slice of milkbread.

he hoped to go unnoticed, since he heavily disliked wearing an obnoxious disguise that would make him stand out even more. still, he raised the hood of his maroon sweatshirt over his head. oikawa desired some semblance of anonymity.

the bell clanged against the door loudly as oikawa quickly avoided the front of the store. he observed the vast selection of packaged milk bread loaves, before deciding on his usual choice brand.

he sauntered towards the beverage isle in curiosity and ended up settling for a bottled green tea to pair with his bread. he had never been a fan of green tea, but you had made it for him consistently after his practices to 'calm his nerves.' a tiny smile stretched onto his face as he thought back fondly.

he wanted to head home and collapse in his bed. the jetlag refused to leave him without a good night's sleep. after making sure he was satisfied with his choices, he walked up to the counter.

with his head down, he placed the items in front of the cashier. they scanned his items while he shuffled in the pocket of his pants for his wallet.

oikawa lifted his head slightly, comparing his money to the price shown on the register. he placed the money on the counter, not bothering to pay attention to the cashier.

he turned to leave and quickly get back to his hotel.

"i thought you hated green tea?" an easily recognizable voice remarked behind him.

he felt his heart drop as a lump began to form in his throat. out of anyone he could've ran into on his first night back, it had to be you? he contemplated putting on a brave face and telling you how he felt all these years or running out of the store just to avoid you.

he decided on the former, quickly turning around to face you. his breath paused as he looked at you for the first time in years. oikawa remembers you being beautiful before, but you had changed entirely.

you looked like you were crafted by the gods themselves.

the blush inched on his face as he tried to find the words to say. he had never been this anxious in his life. you looked at him with a puzzled expression as he continued to gape at you.

"i was... came home... off season...you're gorgeous?" he spoke in gibberish since he was unable to formulate his thoughts.

you laughed at his words as he stared at you with a stunned face, trying to determine whether or not you were real. you decided to ignore his shock and ask him about himself.

"how has your professional career been going? i heard you went to the olympics!" you gushed as he embarrassedly nodded along. you ignored your unpleasant past with him and continued with the formalities.

"i was glad to represent argentina in the olympics. going abroad to play volleyball was one of the greatest decisions i could've made."

oikawa sighs as he continues on.

"i still regret it, you know? arguing with you and leaving our relationship on bad terms. i think about it all the time. you inspired me to keep improving everyday. i'm so sorry for leaving.."

silence echoes throughout the store as he finishes his thoughts. you cut him off, beginning to explain your faults.

"i should've came to the airport. i knew that you were leaving, but i held a grudge." the regrets spilled out of you as the two of you continued to think about your every decision.

oikawa blinked away tears that formed in the corners of his eyes. he had missed you more than he could comprehend. there hadn't been enough words in his language to express how much he cared about you.

a few tears escaped his eyes, rolling down his cheeks. you leaned forward, wiping away the stray tears from his face. you softly grasped his jaw with a gentle smile.

"i've regret letting you go for years. you mean so much to me, tooru."

oikawa grins elatedly at you as he stares back into the comfort of your gaze. he could never get tired of this feeling.

the security of your embrace, the jokes that only you would laugh at, your support of his passion, your fixation on romance movies that you force him to watch with you, the longing gaze you send him whenever you're apart, and his overwhelming love for you.

there was nowhere else he'd rather be than with you.

whenever tooru thinks of home, he thinks of you.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Private Dances [4]

Club!Blue Jones X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? • ko-fi • request info • series masterlist •

A/N: A huge thank you to the epic @lonelyisamyw-0love for tipping my ko-fi, this series is especially for them💚

Warnings: Oh dear, not beta read, overuse of italics, sub!Blue, there's some power dynamics in here because reader is a dancer (but like Blue is so lovesick), swearing, p in v sex, cream pie, Blue being all soft and crying, Blue having nightmares, Blue being a little shit, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

There are 5 main ‘stars’ in the club: Peach, Trixie, Songbird, Sweetie Pie, and Crystal. Crystal is usually the favourite but is currently in Blue’s bad books for reasons unknown to the reader. Reader is a backup dancer that Blue has nicknamed Lion.

Word Count: 2252

Only One Step Away

“Come to bed with me, Lion.” He mutters, his voice soft and eyes closed as he presses you against the door. His hands stroke your cheeks softly, almost soothingly if you let yourself sink into the sensation.

You tense ever so slightly despite how hard he’s just made you come. His eyes open as he feels it, giving you a long look from under his thick lashes. 

“I’m not going to bite, Lion. I’d expect you to be the one to do that.” He smiles a wicked grin, but swallows when he senses your uncertainty. “I’m not forcing you, I’m just asking.” He traces the line of your jaw with his fingertips. “I want to shower and sleep… with you next to me.” 

“You’re not worried I’ll strangle you the second you're unconscious?” You tease and the gleam quickly returns to his eyes.

He presses his chest close to yours, “Oh, promises, promises.” He bites his lip. “Don’t distract me with a good time.” 

You chuckle, unable to stop yourself. And to your surprise he beams, the expression lighting up his whole face as the giddy thrill of amusing you races through his veins. 

You lightly touch his cheek, mirroring his caress on your skin. Blue closes his eyes, pressing his head fully into your hand and breathing in deeply. 

“Alright.” You whisper. 

.

You’ve never been in his private rooms, the ones that are sealed behind the locked door in his office. You’re not quite sure what you were expecting, they’re opulently decorated yes, but not as much as his office, not as showy. More focused on comfort than status. There’s a reasonably sized living room with a plush sofa and a large dark wooden bookshelf lining the walls. There’s a book open on the coffee table, bent in half face down. 

The bathroom, all black tile and a fancy white and gold tub that is surely big enough to swim in, is ensuite to the bedroom. 

You know he doesn’t stay in his rooms all the time, he has a home somewhere outside of the club. But you also know he rarely spends time there. 

He kisses you in the shower, running his hands all over you in the soothing warm water, barely talking other than asking if he can wash your skin. 

It’s oldy nice. His gentle touch, the soft look in his eyes. The way he nuzzles against you and holds you close like he is clinging onto you, not pulling you near, not demanding, but pleading. 

It’s the first time you’ve seen him fully naked. The first time you’ve seen his chest and back completely bare. 

Your line of sight lingers on the scars that litter his skin, the series of lines and burn marks across his shoulders. The criss cross of cuts along his ribs. They’re old, well healed but obviously deep. There’s a newer scar on his right side where a bullet went clean through just above his hip, you knew about that one, had heard the stories and gossip from the other dancers. Somehow that one doesn’t seem as stark as the others. 

When Blue notices you looking he smiles, but it’s a small thing. An almost shy twitch of his lips. He stays closer to you after that, trying to keep his body hidden from you without it being bitterly obvious. 

The second he turns off the shower he wraps you in a fluffy towel before he gives you a soft bathrobe to wear and ushers you into the bedroom.  

His bed is lavish, dramatic. But it’s obvious which side he sleeps on, the books and clock, notes and pens and knic knacks all stacked on the right hand side bedside table. Quickly he pulls on a t-shirt and boxers, which makes you smile for a moment. You were sure he would have opulent silk pyjamas hand stitched in gold, a plain white cotton t-shirt seems… off. 

He guides you into bed a little nervously, suddenly drawn in on himself and looking down. 

“Blue?” You stroke his cheek before you sit, looking over his face carefully, scrutinising for any clue of his distress. Part of you screams in your head, yells at you for caring, for worrying. 

“Hmm?” His eyes meet yours when you tilt his chin upwards. 

“Are you okay?” 

He nods, but the action isn’t sure of itself. You realise this is probably the first time anyone other than himself has been in here. 

He seems… softer now. Less sharp at the edges with his make-up washed away and short hair damp. You run your thumb over his moustache. 

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?”

His breathing hitches, eyes widening at your words. A light flush creeps along his cheeks. “I…” He swallows, “I should be saying that to you, Lion.” 

You lean forward and kiss him lightly, “Well, I said it first.” 

His throat bobs, the glazed, love sick look he gives you is piercing. Somehow cutting you deeper than any expression you have ever seen him show before.

He nods after a moment, trying to push down an emotion you can’t quite place. “Here,” he holds out his hand, waits for you to take it before he climbs into the bed, pulling back the covers for you to join him and encourages you to lie down. 

Blue snuggles next to you the second your back hits the mattress, wrapping his arms around you and shuffling close. He breathes deeply, a little shudder running through his chest. 

“Lion, Lion, Lion.” He mutters, the sound low and soft, more for his own ears than yours. 

You expect it to be difficult, if not impossible to fall asleep. How could it possibly be comfortable with him next to you? How could you not be on edge? 

Instead, you find yourself slipping into dreams the second you close your eyes. 

.

It’s dark when you wake, still early morning. Your shoulder aches ever so slightly from where you’ve been laying oddly. 

At first, you don’t remember where you are and that alone is enough to fill you with the purest panic. But then the sounds of Blue talking in his sleep filter into your groggy mind. 

You sit up slightly, there is just enough light to see him curled up on his side shaking. His words are indistinguishable, nonsense. But he’s crying, his face pinched together and crumbled. 

You shouldn’t care. You shouldn’t care. You shouldn’t give a flying fuck. 

But you do.

And it hurts.

“Blue,” you say softly, putting your hand on his shoulder gently. His skin is cold, clammy, and for a second you wonder if he’s ill. 

He stays asleep, his eyes closed, still mumbling. 

“Blue.” Your voice is firmer this time, but calm. Safe. And you shake him ever so slightly. 

He jumps as he wakes, freezing as his eyes snap open in panic. 

“You’re okay.” You swallow. “You’re-”

“Lion?” His voice is crocky, weak. 

You nod and he grabs hold of your hand on his shoulder, turning around and shifting closer to you. 

“I…” There are tears on his cheeks, still budding in his eyes. 

You move closer to him, wiping at the wetness on his face and whispering soothing words. “It’s okay, you’re alright. We’re safe here.”

He nuzzles closer, wrapping his arms around you desperately and squeezing. His grip is strong despite how his hands tremble. 

Blue shakes his head, pulling you closer and grabbing at your right hand. 

You frown, unsure of what he’s doing at first, but then he spreads your fingers and presses your palm to his throat. 

“Please.” He whispers, hardly above silence. 

Your hand flexes automatically, and he whimpers swallowing hard and pressing his head back against the pillow.

“Thank you.” He closes his eyes, lighty stroking your bicep and trailing his other hand to your hip. 

He gasps, his eyelids fluttering as you squeeze. His heartbeat echoes in his neck, but to your surprise you can feel it slowing, calming as you increase your grip. 

His lips part as he lets out a shuddered breath. His muscles tense and squirm as he lets the sensation of your hand on him overtake his mind. 

You can’t help yourself, unable to resist the urge to lean forward and trace your thumb of your free hand over his bottom lip. 

He gasps, his eyes opening as he darts the tip of his tongue out and flicks in against your fingertip. 

The way your breathing hitches surprises you, you can see the adoration shining in Blue’s eyes in the dark. 

Heat pools in your stomach, twisting around your muscles. It shouldn’t be so enticing, him looking like that. So soft and pliant and laid out for you like a feast. Your wetness rubs against your inner thighs as your body practically begs to take him and break him into whatever shape you wish.

“Ride me.” He mutters, almost looking embarrassed to be asking. “Just…” He takes your hand on his face and guides it down to his heavy cock, hard and ready. “Use me to get off, please.” He swallows, his voice timid. “Keep squeezing my neck and I’ll be quiet and still for you.” 

He gives you a nervous glance from under his eyelashes, the uncertainty of his gaze cracks into your ribs and weakens any resolve you could possibly hope to have. 

You nod, keeping your right hand around his throat as you pull up his shirt slightly and tug his boxers down to his thighs. You stroke him once, slow. More for your own amusement than his. He stays quiet as you run your fingers over his velvet soft skin, but his muscles tense and twitch under the strain. 

Blue swallows as you climb on top of him, his throat bobbing under your grip. He closes his eyes when you line up with his length and sink down, his back arches for a second before he regains control and pushes him back back flat to the bed, his hands at his sides. 

As you swallow more of his cock you gasp, rocking your hips to ease the stretch and help the glide. It’s like you can feel him in your chest, pushing your lungs and trying to pierce your heart. 

He pulses with the beat of his heart, spearing you open and making your clit throb with the deep stretch. 

You moan softly, hardly able to move, to do anything other than take more and more of him as your knees slip wider and he sinks deeper. 

He whines, gasping as you finally sheath him inside, his balls pressing against your ass. 

You rock slowly, trying to adjust to him and squeezing his throat rhythmically. 

Blue tries to stay as quiet as possible, his breathing turning into quiet pants when you finally find the right rhythm. 

His thighs quiver as you ride him, rolling your hips so that his tip strokes devastatingly inside. You gasp, biting your lip. You don’t want it to be good, you don’t want it to feel so right. Him balls deep and you soaking his cock and chasing your pleasure like you are possessed. 

“Blue,” you groan, your fingers digging into his neck.

He looks at you instantly, focusing on you. The look on his face is palpable, the strain of holding back. 

“Blue,” you mutter again, your voice raising in pitch and he gasps. 

You lean forward, changing the angle so you can grind and roll and- you sob as he brushes so perfectly inside. The sensation burning and cracking up your spine like electricity. The cry that leaves your throat has him tensing, shaking from the effort to hold himself back. 

Fresh tears fill his eyes from the strain, the long drawn out edge of being so close. His toes curl as you moan, taking your pleasure completely from him. 

You squeeze his neck harder, biting at his bottom lip possessively. “Come with me.” You growl, your mind burning hot and too far gone to think of anything else. 

He shakes his head with a sob, “I want you to feel good-”

“Are you questioning me?” You snarl, nipping at his jaw and he whines, gasps. His body follows your order without a second thought as he shakes. His hips snap upwards once, his soft, sweet, desperate cries tipping you over the edge. 

You come hard, all thoughts dissolving and focusing only on him as your orgasm rolls over you. 

Your hips move on their own as your keep coming, the pleasure pushes further and further as he pumps hot, thick cum deep inside you. 

You breathe hard as you come back down, aftershocks twisting along your muscles. There are fresh tears on Blue’s cheeks, and even in the poor light you can see the bruising on his neck. 

“Oh,” you touch his skin softly, your stomach dropping, suddenly horrified. 

He looks up at you in a panic, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come,” he flinches, “please, don’t-”

You kiss him deeply, stroking his sweaty skin before you pull his t-shirt off completely. “I don’t want you to be sorry. I’m sorry, I’ve…” you stroke his neck, “it looks…”

“Feels good.” He says softly, pilant and small. “I don’t want you to be sorry either.” 

You nod. 

He presses his forehead to yours, whimpering when you stroke his hair and kiss his nose, closing his eyes as he tangles himself up in your embrace. 

This isn’t right. This shouldn’t feel so comfortable. 

Thank you for reading!

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[k-daydreams]

The pursuit of Feeling Alive: I. Intro

Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader, PLATONIC!IC x reader

Synopsis: cousin to Rhysand and Morrigan, y/n was once her family’s golden child. Faced with trials and tribulations her whole life, she needed reprieve— a distraction. Until a surprise homecoming opens Pandora’s box, and gives y/n a reality check. Especially facing her once close friend Azriel. Friends to Enemies to lovers trope.

Warnings: trauma, swearing, pining, angst?

Word Count: 4.8k

Author note: this is my first acotar fic! It was originally going to be a singular self indulgent azriel fic, but I can’t ever get to the point and I got too many ideas. Definitely not very canon with the timeline of series I think lol, just going to throw that out there. I’ve already rough drafted another chapter and thought I’d share the work on here. Feel free to share your thoughts! If you’d like to be added to a tag list let me know!

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

Internally, you teetered on the edge of a nervous breakdown, ready to tear yourself apart from within. Externally, you wore a mask of cold calculation, hoping no one could detect your distress and near senility. Earlier in the day, your cousin Mor had mentioned that her high lord and your other dear cousin, Rhysand, had matters to discuss with your high lord, Helion. The reason for their meeting was of no concern to Mor to bother filling you in.

Your heart thumped against your chest, unsure of what to expect. It had been over fifty years since the Day Court and Night Court had engaged in official business since the end of Amarantha's reign of terror. You had seen Rhysand during the time under the mountain, where you spent nearly half a century with him until Feyre saved Prythian. Still holding visits with him after to report to him along with Mor, thanks to her frequent visits to Helion. However, the rest of the court, especially those you hadn't met since after Amarantha and Hybern, remained a mystery, with only Mor's updates for context.

Following your time under the mountain, you chose to reside in the Day Court under Helion's rule as an emissary between the two Solar Courts. It served as a means to shield yourself from feeling too deeply, allowing you to focus on healing from the traumatic events you endured during those fifty years. There were other matters you had yet to confront and come to terms with, voluntarily choosing to ignore them. By hiding away and conducting your business mainly with Mor and Rhys, you could maintain a sense of avoidance of your once home.

Now, in the dining hall of the palace where Helion and his inner court resided—including yourself—you found yourself on edge. Regardless of the pressing matters at hand, your high lord insisted on hosting a dinner for his court and other high fae to publicly display the alliance between the Night Court and the Day Court. Standing next to Helion's chair in the center of the room, you observed the lively chatter among the gathered individuals.

Your hands were clasped tightly in front of you, nervously inspecting your gown for nonexistent dirt, attempting to conceal your jitters. The gown itself could remind anyone of the place you resided and wanted to consider your new home. It was an off-the-shoulder nude gown with gossamer sleeves cascading around your arms. The bodice, nearly transparent, accentuated your bust, adorned with soft gold crystals intricately arranged over your body. The long skirts consisted of layers of gossamer, featuring two long slits up the front that revealed your legs. You appeared ethereal and angelic.

"You seem on edge," Helion called out to you, pulling you out of your internal thoughts. Your eyes scanned the room, observing every movement, before turning your attention to the main entrance. He gently traced his finger beneath the dainty black diamond bracelet adorning your wrist, bringing your attention back. This bracelet, along with matching pieces around your neck and ears, showed your affiliation with the visiting court. You wore them out of respect for your older cousins, never daring to show your true affection openly—a facade to conceal your true self. You knew they would appreciate it if they noticed.

"The Night Court was your home, was it not?" He questioned, his tone casual, as he glanced over his shoulder at the other members of the inner court to make sure they weren’t listening. Adjusting his shirt cuffs to his well-matched button-down very similar color to yours, he exuded regality from head to toe.

You mumbled stoically, "Was." Clearing your throat tentatively, your eyes returned to the main doors. "This is my home now, serving under your rule. I can't afford to be anything but cautious when the Night Court wishes to discuss an unknown matter."

You didn’t miss the way his eyes rolled. "Always playing this game, aren't you?" Helion scolded playfully. “There's no need to keep up the act. Rhys's actions beneath the mountain spoke volumes for our court."

You thought to yourself, 'But my actions don't, and I'd rather keep it that way.' Aloud, you replied smoothly, "One can't appear too soft when the Night Court steps through that door." The lie slipped easily from your lips.

"Are we referring to the whole court now or the spymaster we both have eyes for?" Helion hummed, reclining slightly in his chair as he took a sip of fae wine from his chalice-like glass. Damn him.

"I have no eyes for any man, particularly not a brute Illyrian man. And especially not one I've been watching wrestle with my cousin since we were young children," you retorted, feeling a surge of unease and clenching your jaw at the assumption.

"That's a match I would give up all my powers to witness," the handsome, dark-skinned lord purred, his words aimed at you.

You wanted to snap at him, your patience wearing thin at the mere mention of the tall Illyrian warrior. However, you managed to keep your composure in check. "It's hardly a match; Rhys won every time."

As if on cue, you felt the energy of several individuals entering the palace. Rhysand always loved a dramatic entrance. "Excellent, our guests have arrived," you murmured, straightening your shoulders as best as you could.

Helion followed suit, sitting more upright in his chair at the center of the hall. The rest of the inner court took their positions standing.

The sentries opened the doors for the guests. Morrigan was the first to enter, her golden hair elegantly curled, and she delightedly took you in before blinking a few times, returning to her sultry expression. Her red gown fitted her perfectly: a strapless piece that flowed around her as she walked. Following her was a sight you hadn't expected since hearing the gossip from Mor—Lucien Vanserra, adorned in deep autumnal colors that complemented his complexion and long, tidy red hair. He was an old confidant of yours when you had stayed in the spring court. You couldn't help but find it amusing, but you maintained a composed demeanor, concealing your bemusement at how out of place in the night court he seemed.

After Lucien came two beautiful high fae women. The younger one on the left wore a flowing champagne pink gown that accentuated her slim waist and showcased her porcelain fair skin. Her light brown hair was adorned with crystals and flowers, and she wore dainty opal teardrop earrings that complimented her brown eyes. On the right stood another woman in a form-fitting navy dress that subtly shimmered with every movement. The gown highlighted her curves and bust, while a sapphire-like sciphon necklace adorned her neck. Her darker brown hair was elegantly pinned up with a silver circlet. These must have been the High Lady's sisters, Elain and Nesta, whom you had heard so much about. Nesta's eyes had a hint of danger and coldness, while Elain's were filled with awe as they observed the dining hall.

Cassian followed the two women, and you discreetly coughed to suppress a snort. He appeared cleaned up, wearing a navy tunic and dark linen pants, with his hair slicked back and neatly tied. This was a different version of him from the rugged general you were accustomed to, not dressed in his usual fighting leathers to a formal affair. His siphons were cleverly disguised as jewelry pieces, and he had politely tucked back his larger wings. He seemed out of place as much as Lucien, but his mischievous eyes locked with yours, indicating he might have had similar thoughts about you.

Before you could even see her, you sensed Amren's piercing gaze from behind Cassian's towering figure. Her glowing silver eyes held an inscrutable expression, and her lips formed a slight grimace. She wore her usual grey color in a slip gown that elegantly draped down in the front. Though not dressed as extravagantly as the others, her presence demanded attention. A touch of red lipstick and a slightly tousled hairstyle were enough to enhance her beauty. You could see the rest of Helion’s inner court murmur from your peripheral, the usual whispers about the millennia’s old creature stalking towards them.

Rhysand made his entrance with the high lady from beside him, exuding confidence and power. He wore his customary dark attire that accentuated his commanding presence. His violet eyes locked with yours for a fleeting moment before he turned his attention to Helion. Feyre held her head high, a diadem hanging on the crown of her head, and her hair half up half down in loose waves. Her dress off the shoulder shone in sapphire crystals making it look like stars had been entwined on the gown. She was gorgeous as a mortal even when she was malnourished when you saw her under the mountain, but as a high fae she was even more devastating.

Last of the group, you spotted Azriel, his shadows swirling subtly around him, and your breath caught in your throat. His shadows slinked up his dark tunic clad shoulder seeming to whisper in his ear. He looked over at you making eye contact discreetly. His features were hard but something unreadable in his eyes as he observed you. You didn’t miss the slight bob of his throat as he looked quickly away to a distant corner in the room acting stoic. His hair was pushed back showing his sharp jawline, and you could see his tattoos peeking out his shirt. His silent and brooding presence always managed to unnerve you, unable to get a good read on what could’ve been going through his head. You refused to let your guard down, not wanting to think about the shadowsinger that stood mere feet away. This had been the first time you have seen each other in person since you were able to leave under the mountain.

The Night Court all stood in front of Helion, and he bowed his head in greeting. You did the same along with the rest of the inner court. The introductions began, and the atmosphere buzzed with anticipation. Helion gracefully welcomed his guests, exchanging pleasantries and acknowledging the significance of the meeting. You observed the interactions, keeping a blank face despite the tumultuous emotions swirling within you. It felt like you were looking into your old life from the outside watching the inner circle, and your heart ached for a second.

Eventually, it was time for you to step forward and join the introductions. As you approached Rhysand, his gaze never wavered from yours. His lips curved into a knowing smile, a silent acknowledgment of the past. You stood before him, your heart pounding, but your expression remained composed.

"High Lord Rhysand," you greeted him, keeping your tone neutral and titles formal. "It has been a while."

His voice was smooth as he responded, “Y/n, always a pleasure. Allow me to introduce my wife and High Lady, Feyre.”

You bowed respectfully to the High Lady. “I am in awe, Feyre Cursebreaker. What an honor to have you grace the Day Court with your presence.”

A smile graced her lips in response. “Thank you for the warm welcome. I have heard so much about you, Y/n.” She took your hands in hers, and you were taken aback by the warm informal gesture. Your gaze fell upon the intricate tattoo adorning her hand and forearm, and in that moment, your heart swelled with joy for your cousin, and you dared to steal a glance at Rhys. His eyes were already fixed on you, and you couldn’t help but notice the subtle hints of tenderness and anticipation shining within them. You were so happy for him.

The formalities continued, and you exchanged polite words with Lucien, Elain, and Nesta. You longed for a chance to sit down and talk with them, to hear about their experiences since being freed from the cauldron. Your gaze wandered momentarily to Lucien, who stood near Morrigan, his amber eyes briefly glancing in your direction. A flicker of recognition passed between you, an unspoken acknowledgment of shared history. You had both suffered under the rule of the Spring Court, and it was a trauma you preferred to keep buried for now. But you couldn’t deny that you treasured the moments the young emissary had kept you sane within the trauma.

You stood next to Helion along with another Day Court emissary as Rhys, Amren, and Helion discussed some political topics. Deep down, you yearned for a moment alone with the inner circle, away from the prying eyes and expectations. But for now, you had to focus on the diplomatic matters at hand and navigate the complexities of the gathering. As the conversations flowed around you, you remained attentive, gathering information and assessing the dynamics between the courts.

Throughout the evening, conversations flowed, alliances were strengthened, and unspoken words hung heavy in the air. You played your part, engaging in polite conversation and maintaining the facade of an emissary, all the while battling the internal storm raging within you. It was beginning to wear on you though. Watching from afar at how Mor mingled with Nesta and Cassian. The Illyrian man had his arm around the oldest Archeon sister as they nodded and chuckled at Mor, and you wanted to smile. You had never expected Cassian finding a mate before you, but here you were.

A lot has changed since you had left indeed, and the longing you felt came back.

“You’re not my prisoner, you know. Feel free to mingle,” Helion’s voice chimed from behind, breaking through your thoughts.

“Isn’t that a bit informal?” you responded, sipping your glass of wine.

He arched an eyebrow, feigning surprise. “To talk at a party?” He snatched your wine from your hand.

You turned to face him, reaching for your half-filled glass that he held teasingly away from you. “Ah, don’t you think it’s a bit informal for an emissary to get drunk?” He added a playful spark in his eyes.

“To drink at a party?” You volleyed back, grinning mischievously as you continued your playful struggle for the glass.

“Why don’t you practice the talking part with Rhysand?” Helion suggested, his eyes glinting with amusement. “It seems like he’s eager to have a word with his dear cousin.” He gestured subtly behind you, and amidst the revelry and banter, Rhysand and Feyre made their way toward you both. However, before you could react, your gaze caught Azriel’s intense hazel eyes from their table behind the approaching couple, where he sat next to Elain. His massive wings appeared tense and uncomfortably confined by the chair. Elain chatted with him, but it seemed his attention was elsewhere, fixated on you. His shadows still whispered in his ear as one crept across the table.You resisted the urge to shudder, maintaining your composure, and quickly turned your attention back to Helion, whose grin remained firmly in place.

“Helion, may we borrow Y/n for a moment?” Rhysand inquired, one eyebrow raised, his gaze flickering between you and Helion.

Helion practically pushed you into Feyre’s arms. “Go ahead, I was just informing her that she’s free from her duties until later!” he announced with a mischievous glint in his eyes. The tips of your ears burned with embarrassment as you realized his intent to encourage your mingling.

“Thank you, My Lord,” you replied, bowing your head with a touch of sarcasm. Rhysand extended his arm, and you looped yours through it, allowing him to guide you towards their table. A nervous gulp betrayed your anticipation.

Feyre looked at you with concern. “Are you alright?” she asked, her tone gentle and caring.

“May we speak on the balcony?” you requested, your voice filled with meekness.

“Of course, it’s getting a bit warm in here,” Rhysand agreed, leading the three of you towards the balcony bathed in soft faelight.

You all leaned casually against the balcony railing, observing the lively feast taking place inside.

"How's the Day Court treating you?" he asked in a relaxed tone, as if to put you at ease. Away from prying eyes, you felt your shoulders relax. It felt good to be with your cousin where you both didn’t have to wear a mask.

"Well," you replied, "the Day Court doesn't quite compare to the beauty of the Night Court, but the days are undeniably bright." You struggled to find a suitable comparison for the Day Court's allure to the Night Court.

Rhys and Feyre almost snorted out their wine, their amusement evident. "I wonder why," Rhys sarcastically murmured.

Choosing to ignore your cousin's comment, you continued, "I've been making progress translating some texts for the court, and delving into a lot of reading.”

It seemed as though the High Lord and Lady expected to hear more and urged you to continue, but they realized you had nothing more to share.

Rhys cleared his throat. "Wow, that sounds like quite a lot," he remarked. You could tell he wanted to throw a snide remark, but a warning look from his mate kept him at bay. Where was Feyre centuries ago when you always found to be the butt of your cousin's jokes?

You shrugged. "Keeps me distracted." From your vantage point, you had a perfect view of the inner circle's table. Mor, Amren, Azriel, Lucien, Nesta, and Cassian were all seated there, drinking and picking at their food. Helion even made sure Amren had a chalice of beast's blood. You missed being a part of that group, laughing and sharing moments with them. The only person in the Day Court you truly felt comfortable with was Helion, and even that remained behind closed doors.

"Come home," the words made your shoulders tense. It wasn't your cousin who had spoken, but Feyre. You looked at her, finding understanding in her eyes, as if she knew what you were going through.

Your gaze wandered back to the inner circle. Your eyes fell on Azriel, who was listening with a ghost of a smile on his lips, as Cassian animatedly spoke, his wings flaring about and nearly knocking over Lucien's wine glass. The group tried to hide their laughter while Amren scolded them. Azriel's shadows discreetly moved the glass out of Cassian's wingspan, hiding his amusement.

"They miss you," Rhys genuinely expressed. "I miss you, and even the House misses you." Tears welled up, tightening your throat. "He won’t say it out loud, but he misses you too."

You didn't need to be told who he was. You knew.

"I didn't even say goodbye," you spoke with a heavy heart, guilt washing over you.

"That was over fifty years ago, Y/n," Rhys reminded you gently.

He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "We have texts for you to translate if it’s a means to keep you busy, we could even have you train with Madja. Want an apartment on the opposite side of town from the House of Wind? Consider it done. Desire a cottage in the middle of nowhere? It's yours. Just please, stop running away," Rhys pleaded.

You felt tears welling up, but you willed them away. "I... I just can't leave," you stammered. You could feel your heart torn.

"You can," Feyre said sympathetically, holding your hands. "Helion asked us to come and talk to you."

"We won't force you, but he mentioned that you've changed in the last few years," Rhys added. Feyre's grip on your hands tightened.

"Please talk to them maybe and think about it?" she requested. You knew she meant the inner circle.

Biting your lip, you contemplated. "I'll find you in a bit. I need some time alone."

With a nod, Rhysand and Feyre understood your need for solitude. They exchanged a brief glance before making their way back inside, leaving you alone on the balcony.

Leaning against the railing, you let the cool evening breeze brush against your skin, smell of wildflower and honey in the air, the quietness of the moment allowing your thoughts to swirl. Images of your past, the friendships you had forged and the bonds you had left behind, filled your mind. The longing in your heart grew stronger with each passing second your family stood in the same room as you. A longing you pushed deep down when you were still under the mountain, uncertain of seeing your loved ones again.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, trying to not let tears slip. It was true that you had changed over the years, that the weight of your experiences had shaped you into someone different. But running away had only prolonged the pain, and you knew it was time to confront it. If your cousins had endured the pain, you were sure you could too.

Slowly, you pushed yourself away from the railing, determination igniting within you. You couldn't stay on the sidelines any longer. The inner circle had always been your family, even if circumstances had driven you apart. And now, as you stood on the cusp of a decision, you realized that it was time to bridge that gap.

Stepping back inside, you navigated through the crowd, searching for the familiar faces you had missed dearly. You found them at their table, still engaged in their playful banter, laughter filling the air. Taking a deep breath, you approached, your footsteps faltering only slightly.

As you reached the table, a hush fell over the group, their gazes turning towards you. Azriel's eyes locked with yours, and the shadows around him seemed to ripple, as though mirroring the tumultuous emotions within you.

"Can I join you?" you asked softly, your voice carrying a blend of trepidation and hope.

The response was immediate and overwhelming. Cassian's boisterous laughter echoed as he clapped you on the back, nearly knocking the breath out of you. Nesta's sharp gaze softened for a brief moment, Elain offered a warm but wary smile, and Lucien's amber eyes held surprise. Morrigan's voice was a welcoming melody as she pulled out a chair for you, and Amren, in her own enigmatic way, nodded approvingly.

Taking your seat among them, you couldn't help but feel a sense of homecoming. And as you settled into the comfort of their presence, you could feel your frozen heart just dethaw slightly.

“Y/n, I knew you were always shy, but around us?” Mor teased you endearingly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You look so beautiful tonight!” She gushed, her words filled with genuine admiration as she played with a strand of your hair. “The dress would be better in a darker color though.” She whispered the last part so only you and the inner circle could hear, her voice laced with a conspiratorial tone.

“The gown color does wash you out,” Amren chimed in, her bored expression not fully hiding a hint of amusement.

A laugh bubbled out of your chest, surprising even yourself. "Not the first thing I thought I would hear from you in years," you quipped, a playful smile tugging at your lips. Amren raise her glass to you before taking a sip of the thick liquid in the cup.

“Better than that raggedy spring court piece you came back in, though," Rhysand interjected, his voice filled with playful banter as he and Feyre settled into the extra seats at the table. The original inner circle chuckled at the memory.

Despite that being one of the worst days of your life, you couldn't help but smile too. The shared laughter brought a warmth to the air, softening the edges of past wounds.

“You should’ve seen the dress I came to the Night Court in," Feyre chimed in, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Another monstrosity by Ianthe," Lucien muttered into his glass before taking a sip, his voice tinged with a touch of disdain. Your eyes widened at the snide comment, but the group erupted into laughter, momentarily forgetting the weight of your burdens.

As the night wore on, Helion raised his glass, signaling a toast to the alliance between the two courts. The hall fell silent, and you raised your glass as well, a faint smile playing at the corner of your lips. The toast created a joyous noise as everyone in attendance drank, and the music started playing. Mor instantly beamed and grabbed Feyre’s hand, followed by Elain, leading them to the dance floor. Rhysand and Lucien joined them, their steps filled with a carefree grace. Cassian took Nesta’s hand, and they followed suit. Amren excused herself to converse with the emissary from the Day Court with a request of Azriel to accompany her.

You turned to Mor, insisting you would join them shortly, as you wished to find Helion. She nodded understandingly, giving you a knowing smile as she disappeared into the swirling crowd. You made your way toward Helion, feeling the warmth of the night and the drinks starting to loosen your tongue and heart.

“Do you wish to get rid of me so easily?” you feigned offense, walking up to his side. The merriment of the evening had given you a newfound boldness. Your body hadn’t felt this light in ages. Your gaze met his, and a flicker of understanding passed between you.

Helion shook his head, a gentle smile gracing his features. “No, darling, never. I just think your heart belongs somewhere else.” His words were filled with gentle encouragement. He patted the arm of his chair, offering you a seat upon the rest. With an eye roll and a smile, you accepted, settling into the plush chair arm.

"Your presence is lovely, your duty is commendable, but I couldn't sit here watching you turn to stone any longer," Helion continued, his voice filled with genuine concern. His finger absentmindedly found the wrist under your bracelet, his touch a feather-light brush against your skin. A wave of warmth washed over you, and the faint scent of wildflowers drifted through the air.

"Besides, maybe it's time you face a certain Illyrian man," he whispered discreetly, his words carrying a hint of suggestion.

You looked at him, confusion swirling within you. His eyes subtly glanced over to the corner, and you followed his gaze. Azriel stood behind Amren, his intense gaze fixed on Helion and you. His jaw was clenched, and his wings were taut with tension, as if holding back an impending storm. The sight of him sent a jolt of both excitement and apprehension through your veins.

"I can't ignore those ravenous stares, knowing he wants to rip me to shreds, and not in the way I like," he added, teasingly toying with your bracelet as if oblivious to Azriel's presence. The Day Court High Lord knew exactly what he was doing it seemed. Azriel couldn’t have been glaring at Helion; it had to be you. Memories of your past argument with Azriel flashed through your mind, the intensity of the argument still fresh. You had both nearly destroyed each other. You hadn’t ever heard you two speak so many volatile and vulgar things— especially at each other.

"I could never forgive him for what he said," you sighed. "What's even worse is that I can't forgive myself for what I did, not only to him, but to my family. I feel responsible for my ex-husband's actions towards them." You admitted, realizing that you had never spoken those words aloud before.

Beside you, the lord sucked his teeth in retort. "You can't blame yourself for what your father put you through by selling you to that pretty little beast." He sat up straighter and looked at you earnestly. "Nobody blames you, Y/n." You found yourself unabashedly staring back at Azriel as he was still looking at the interaction between you and the high lord.

“We all carry burdens from our past, but we mustn't let them define our future," he said gently. "You were caught in a web spun by others, but you have the strength to break free. It's time to forgive yourself and embrace the healing you deserve."

You nodded nimbly, biting your lip in contemplation. You would always hold gratitude for Helion. His kindness you’ve experienced for the last several years was more than what you deserved and needed, but he still provided it. If you returned to the night court you wouldn’t have known where you stood in the court. What your rank would be, what your friends thought of you, and where to even pick back up in your life. You just knew you haven’t felt this alive in awhile, and you craved the feeling.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

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