#those concert spirits

[those-aurora-spirits]

Seed Of Hope just had a really bad day

[robinlmaoo]

Uhm, Hey, I'm Jud- dunno if you received our ask-😨

The One about the collaboration for Leaf's Fanfiction... Uhm. Just. If you don't know, tell us, we'll give you enough time.

With love, a stupid elf that actually doesn't write the fanfiction but her bestie does lol-

Robin: Yup, I received word from my brother that you wanted to collaborate in a fanfiction with them! Don’t worry, they’ll answer soon. they’re just caught up and busy with all the concert stuff and the reopening, poor things / _ ;

[le-velo-pour-dru]

Top 10 videos that are amazing outstanding incredible showstopping powerful breathtaking and freaking LIFE CHANGING-

[spiriteddreams]

my fyp is just satosugu x ts edits i just can’t win anymore

[vaguely-annoyed]

looking for documents for years like i'm waiting for a missing beloved to come home, hoping i will happen to find them in a sea of people our eyes meeting with the calling of something important. familiar. yearning. heavy the knowledge that we should have never parted

[autumnalwalker]

The Tale of the Merchant and the Blacksmith's Daughter

Wordcount: 2,682 (Story is below the "Keep Reading" line if you want to skip the introduction of meta context.)

This is a story that appeared in @thearchivistsjournal, split into two parts, the first half on Day 98 and the second half on Day 364 as a sort of "story within a story" that the titular Archivist winds up telling. I liked it well enough and it works well enough as a standalone story that it neither dependent on nor particularly spoils anything in The Archivist's Journal that I figured I'd give it its own post with the whole story all in one place (and with some of the Archivist's parenthetical commentary stripped out).

The original way this story came about was that several years ago a friend of mine invited me to a concert/show that a coworker of ours was involved in. The concert was 95% instrumental and 5% chorus singing in a language I don't speak, but the individual songs had English-translation titles in the program pamphlet and a couple of them had brief introductions about the larger works or stories the individual pieces originated from. The two that stood out in my memory (or maybe it was both the same one, like I said, it's been several years) were one involving a blacksmith and his white-haired daughter and one having something to do with a gift found/given during winter. Anyway, this story is the story I made up in my head to go along with the music as the concert progressed. It wasn't until I decided to include it in The Archivist's Journal a few years later that I ever wrote it down or even told anyone about it. Of course, in that writing down it mutated a bit and more specific details got added until it became the story you see before you (beneath the "Keep Reading" line).

I hope you enjoy.

*******

This story starts in a village, not too unlike this Village, but rather than being surrounded by water it lay nestled in a space between mountains.  There were many other villages in this world, most of them similarly isolated.  The roads between, over, and through the mountains were long, winding, and dangerous; haunted by wild animals, malevolent spirits, and ruthless bandits.  But still, these roads were traveled despite the risks, mostly by merchants; people who brought goods and news from afar to trade for local crafts, foods, drinks, and gossip.

As I said, we begin our tale with one such merchant arriving in one such village in the springtime, when the trees bloomed with pink flowers and hid chirping newborn chicks among their branches.  A time when everyone, their pets, and their livestock are all taking any excuse they can to be out and about in the new-returned warmth and sun after months of cold and dark.  The time when everyone is happy to see a merchant after so long without word from beyond their village, for only fools travel in the winter, but when you are used to a thing it becomes strange to go without it and joyous to regain it.

As our merchant passed by the farms and rode into town on a rickety cart pulled by an aging steed, the locals smiled and called out to the young man they saw, and some even stopped their work to follow him to market.  The first merchant to visit the village this season, and a new one at that.  For this was the merchant’s first journey out on his own, and while these villagers had never seen this fresh-faced beardless young man before, neither had he seen the world beyond his home village until now, so he was excited as they.  And a bit afraid although he tried not to show it.

And so the merchant arrived in the village square and there was a sort of music to it all; the babble of the crowd clamouring for the latest news, the calling out of requests for foreign items, the rattling of the cart, the huffing of the merchant’s steed, the clucking of chickens happy to be forgotten for the moment as they pecked at the ground.  And behind it all, keeping the rhythm united, the steady beat of the blacksmith’s hammer.

It was toward the end of that first day when the merchant first caught sight of the blacksmith’s daughter, a beautiful young woman the merchant’s own age with snow-white hair despite her youth.  So distracted was the merchant by the sight of her that he did not notice the mischievous village children unhooking his cart from his steed, nor their unlocking its wheels, nor the steed wandering off.  So it was then that when he went to lean upon the cart to try to look casual when he realized she was leaving her father’s workshop to approach him that the cart began to roll off on its own.

A spectacle of a chase after the cart ensued, ultimately ending with the merchant making a fool of himself and landing in a pigsty.  Not the best first impression on the blacksmith’s daughter.  Perhaps even worse was the complication cleaning this soiled state presented.  For the merchant had a secret.  The merchant was in fact not a young man but a young woman, and in this world, among these villages, it was not considered proper for a woman to be a merchant.  There were many justifications and excuses for this idea, and regardless of the truth of any of them - or lack thereof - what mattered was that people believed them and if the young merchant’s true nature were to be discovered, her life and business would be that much harder.

And so the young merchant found herself gathering her goods, her cart, and her steed and fleeing before getting the chance to truly talk to the blacksmith’s daughter whom she was so smitten with.  And while beauty alone may not be the best reason for attraction, it’s a common enough one, and besides the merchant felt a certain kinship for the white-haired young woman.  By her apron and arms it appeared that she was training to take her father’s place and - while we know such an idea to be foolishness here - in that place blacksmith was not considered a “proper” occupation for a woman either.

As the spring passed into summer, and summer into autumn the merchant’s thoughts would often drift back to that white-haired maiden, and as she went from one village to the next she couldn’t stop comparing them to that first village she visited nor their inhabitants to the blacksmith’s daughter.  She resolved that come next spring she would talk to her for real, and prayed that she was not with another by that time.

Likewise, the blacksmith’s daughter would often surprise herself when her own thoughts drifted back toward the smiling handsome stranger who somehow managed to laugh and joke even while chasing down his runaway cart or lying in mud.  Such thoughts never lasted long as her father would tell her to get back to work and remind her that with no son nor wife he was counting on her to carry on his skills and legacy.

And as winter came the merchant hunkered down in the city and drew up two routes for the coming year, one for if talking to the blacksmith’s daughter went well, in which case she would loop around to visit the village multiple times, and one for if the conversation went poorly, in which case she would avoid that village in the future.  Such planning was perhaps a bit much, but those who are young and infatuated often do many foolish things when they should know better.

Meanwhile back in the village the blacksmith and his daughter enjoyed an evening together under the stars while the townsfolk carried on their festival that was the one bright spot in that dark and cold season.  Standing on a bridge leading to a pavilion in the center of a pond on the edge of the festival grounds, the father revealed that he was ill, and come this time next year - or if he was lucky the one after - he would be needing to pass all his work on to her.  Which made it all the more important that she find and accept a husband so that she might continue the family line.  True, she might not be able to smith while having a child, but a good husband could provide for her until she could again.  And if it happened sooner rather than later, her father could continue helping as well.

This news soured the blacksmith’s daughter’s night in more ways than one.

Such were the affairs weighing on the minds of the merchant and the blacksmith’s daughter as spring returned, and with it, the merchant to that  village.

This time, there were no mishaps with the cart and steed, and  the two of them were able to talk.  First about business and news of the wider world, but then about themselves.  As luck or fate would have it, the two of them did actually enjoy one another’s company.  The merchant’s tales of travel and easy-going demeanor allowed the blacksmith’s daughter to forget her troubles for a time.  The blacksmith’s daughter and stories of village life were a pleasant reminder of the things the merchant had started to miss and grow homesick for after giving them up for a life on the road.

All too soon the time came when the merchant had to move on.  As promises were being made to see one another next spring, if not sooner, the blacksmith’s daughter mentioned her father’s illness and its impact on her own responsibilities.  As she rode away, on to the next village, the merchant thought about the blacksmith’s plight and the symptoms that were mentioned, and she remembered a skilled doctor she had met on last year’s route.  Letting her steed lead the cart on its own she consulted her map and her planned routes and began to make adjustments.  How soon could she get to that doctor’s village and return to this one?  Could she make enough money to pay the doctor for a cure to bring back before getting there?  Could such a route work out before winter?  And wintering in that village was no good, for if a merchant is to do well the next year it was said they must winter in the city where trade never stops, only slows.

Days she spent, revising her route, calculating profits and expenses, time and food.  By the time she reached the second village on her route, she believed she could do it.  There would be little profit in it and far too much time on the road, but it could be done.  Even if it meant a poor bed and lean food that winter in the city.

And so it came to pass that it was only early autumn, when the flowers were gone and the farmers made their harvests among the falling orange leaves that the merchant and the blacksmith’s daughter met once again.  To save the blacksmith’s pride the merchant charged for the medicine of course, but left out that it was far less than it had cost her to acquire.  When asked why she had gone to such lengths, she said that a merchant’s job was not to make money, but to make sure people have the things they need but cannot get themselves, even the needs they didn’t ask for.  She may not have fully believed it herself at the time, but that explanation marked the birth of what would one day become the policy that made her reputation as a merchant.  At any rate, it sounded better than the city.

Alas, if the merchant were to keep herself and her steed fed and housed through the winter, they could not linger.  And so the merchant and the blacksmith’s daughter parted ways again, hoping that by the spring the medicine would have done its work.

That winter, the merchant in the city chose to go hungrier than was perhaps wise while she searched for a gift to bring the blacksmith’s daughter.  Not a practical one, but a flattering one.  Meanwhile the blacksmith’s daughter thought of the merchant only to curse him as the medicine seemed at first to do nothing, or even make her father worse.  And then when her father joined her outside on the night of the winter festival, surprising her after being bedridden for weeks they both praised the doctor who’d made the medicine and the merchant who delivered it.

And so that next spring, happy to see one another again, their friendship began to bloom in full.

At first, when the merchant returned to the village, she was nervous.  What if the medicine had not worked and the blacksmith’s daughter now resented her?  What if the gift she now brought was rejected?  Was she being too forward?

As it happened, these fears were unwarranted.  The blacksmith was more hale and hearty than he had been in years.  And his daughter, already grateful, was delighted with the simple hair ornament the merchant presented to her; ostensibly as thanks for sending her on such a journey that led her to contacts that would be profitable in future seasons.  It was a small, plain thing, for the merchant could not yet afford more, but its color shone brilliantly against a head of white hair and it was most effective at keeping that hair out of the way when working a forge.

As in the last spring, and in springs to follow, the merchant lingered for longer than was profitable in that little village so that she anddaughter might spend as much time in one another’s presence as the sirmitwork.  There came the when she surpassed her father’s skill and took on most of the blacksmith’s work.  But, leave once again the merchant always did, although always with a promise to return.  And return she always did, with news and tales and goods, traded for coin and horseshoes and a nostalgic taste of a slower life.

And so the seasons turned, and with them the years.  The claim the merchant once made to impress the blacksmith’s daughter about her purpose not being money but to fulfill the needs of those who cannot for themselves became a guiding principle in truth.  And in this way she gained a reputation for being fair and compassionate in balance with being cunning and capable.  And in this way she wove a web of connections and esteem greater in value than the coin of any one great trade.  Of course, there was an ever-increasing amount of coin too.

Meanwhile, the blacksmith’s daughter came into her own as well.  There came the day when she matched her father’s skill and took on an equal share of the smithy’s work.  There came the when she surpassed her father’s skill and took on most of the smithy’s work.  There came the day when - to both their surprise - her father received a commission from outside their village.  She smirked as she cursed the merchant for spreading overwrought tales of the talent of a humble village blacksmith and pushed herself to ever further mastery so that she might live up to those tales.  And then surpass them.

And then give the merchant much playful grief over the whole ordeal when she next returned.

Yet, for all the sweetness of those years, there were still the subtle bitternesses.  The merchant still had to pretend to be a man for her own safety and status.  The blacksmith still got the credit for his daughter’s work while asking her more urgently every year when she would find a husband to continue the family line.  And for all the time the merchant and the blacksmith’s daughter spent with one another, growing ever more mutually smitten, neither had the confidence to admit to the other of being more than close friends.

And when at last the merchant shared her secret with the blacksmith’s daughter, her faint hope that one day the merchant would settle down as her husband and fulfill her father’s wish for grandchildren was dashed.  And yet, the revelation left her more smitten still.

So, turned the seasons and years with their bright joys and quiet sorrows, until one hot summer’s day brought a change.

The merchant had stopped at a pool beneath a waterfall, far off enough from the road that she might water her steed and bathe in private.  It was a pool she had stopped at often enough before and had never encountered another, so - for a short time - she allowed herself to relax the guard she kept up on those dangerous roads.  And so she found herself half-disrobed at the water’s edge when the bandits of that place’s wilds set upon her with the hunger of wild animals and the cunning of men.

Now, the merchant was not unskilled at defending herself - one must be capable of such to travel those roads - and indeed she had done so handily in the past more than once, but on this occasion she was caught unawares and with the bandits between her and her bow and her spear.  And so, after trying and failing to reach her armaments, for all it hurt her pride she shouted for help she did not believe would come.

The bandits laughed at her despair.

The merchant steeled herself for her fate.

The wind picked up, carrying with it a scattering of petals and the scent of flowers.

A glint from the forest.

A blur that seemed to ride the wind.

A whistle of sharp metal.

The first of the bandits fell.

The laughter ceased.

The merchant beheld the beautiful swordsman.

His mocking grin drew the enraged bandits unto him.

His dancing feet spiraled amongst them untouched.

His gleaming sword flowed in and out and across.

The last bandit remaining slipped behind the beautiful swordsman.

The merchant cried out a warning.

The blow that would have torn spine from back tore only skin from shoulder.

A final flash and it was over.

A final flourish and the sword was sheathed.

A final flower on the breeze and the air was still.

The merchant and the beautiful swordsman stared at one another for a long moment with no sound but the nearby waterfall.

And then the moment ended as the swordsman winced and gripped his injured shoulder, making a self-deprecating joke about being too reckless and then thanking the merchant for saving his life.  The merchant thanked him for saving hers and began to bandage him up.

While they recovered they talked, and as they talked they found they had much in common.  Both were wanderers of the roads; her to bring people together and him to keep them safe.  Both thought they were the only ones who knew of this pool.  Both knew of the other by reputation, although the merchant’s secret, now revealed, was news to him.  Both had a similar sense of humor and played off one another well.  Both were beautiful, although on this one point the merchant disagreed for none had ever told her such before.

How could she compare to this man who was more beautiful than any she had ever seen?  Who moved with a dancer’s grace?  Who smelled of iron and flowers in bloom?  Who had saved her life?

He smiled and reminded her that she had saved his as well.  And then he offered to show her how she might compare.

She did not object when he moved to kiss her.

Over the days it took to travel to the next village, the beautiful swordsman convinced the merchant to try - just this once - to present herself as a woman while conducting her business.  It was an out-of-the-way place where her wider reputation would not suffer if things went poorly.  To her surprise, it did not.  It was frightening at first, yes, and there was some initial skepticism, true, but she was known here and her skills had not changed with her appearance.

It felt better than she’d expected.  She had not realized how much hiding herself had worn her down.  She knew it was reckless, but she tried it again in the next village.  And the next.  And before she knew it, the rest of her stops on the year’s circuit.

It did not always go so well of course.  Some fell back on old prejudices despite their past relationship and dealings.  Some felt they had been lied to all these years and resented the fact.  But the greater number accepted her as the same merchant who had always served them so well or even befriended them in the past and continued business as usual.  Some even lauded her cleverness in keeping up the ruse for so long or called her brave or skillful at having succeeded so well at a disadvantage.

Although, of course, the merchant knew that having already built up wealth and reputation made things far easier than if she had risked being herself from the start.  And having a famous swordsman at her side as a personal guard didn’t hurt matters either.

If there was one blemish on that unexpectedly exhilarating year, it was the guilt.  The merchant could not help but feeling that she had betrayed the blacksmith’s daughter.  She told herself that since the two of them had never claimed to ever be anything more than close friends, there was nothing to betray.  But the feeling persisted, and so the merchant revised her route so that she would not pass back to her favorite village until she was on her way to the city for the winter.  Of course, that only made the gnawing feeling worse.

When the blacksmith’s daughter next saw the merchant, riding openly as she had only shown herself to her in private and with a beautiful man at her side, she felt a stabbing pain in her chest that she refused to identify.  A moment looked forward to for months, suddenly turned to a fear she dared not name.

Over the following days the time that had once belonged to just the two of them was now shared by the three of them.  Their favorite private place now had a beautiful intruder.  An intruder who was never anything but gracious, and funny, and kind, and infuriatingly hard to resent.

It hurt how happy her best friend was, and she hated that it hurt.  She knew that she should be happy for the merchant’s happiness.  And so that was the face she showed.  A facade that all was right in the world, when every hour she wished that she had spoken her feelings sooner while chiding herself that to voice those words now would be nothing but hurtful selfishness.

And so the blacksmith’s daughter spent those last days of autumn smiling and those last nights silently weeping.

As the merchant returned to the city for the winter with the beautiful swordsman still at her side, she was happy that the two people in the world she cared for most had gotten along so well.

And so again the seasons turned and the years turned with them.  The merchant grew yet wealthier and more connected, while the blacksmith’s daughter became ever more skilled.  Ministers in the city asked the merchant to handle their affairs.  Warriors from afar journeyed to a once little-known village for blades and armor like no other.  Young traders sought out the merchant and asked to work for her.  She gave advice to all but hired none.  Would-be smiths sought out the elderly blacksmith and his white-haired daughter for apprenticeship.  He would take no apprentice but a non-existent grandchild and she sent all away without a word.

Masks cannot hold forever, and lies to oneself can only be believed for so long.  The merchant’s guilt began to gnaw again.  She began to question her relationship with the beautiful swordsman.  Had she made a mistake?  Had she simply done what was easy, useful, and expected?  He was dear to her, and she enjoyed his presence and his touch, and had done so much for her.  He seemed as near to perfect as a mortal man could be.  He had never been anything but loyal to her.  But if he had deeper depths, he never revealed them to her.  So how could she ever truly open up to him in return? 

And why did every visit to the blacksmith's daughter feel so painful these days when all three of them looked and sounded so happy?

Meanwhile, the blacksmith’s daughter closed herself ever further off.  She spoke to no one except her father.  And the merchant and the beautiful swordsman when they visited.  All commissions would go through her father and she would make creations that each put the last to shame without a question of payment or word to the patron.  Suitors stopped calling after a thrown hammer grazed the last one’s ear.

The beautiful swordsman, while a carefree man, was not an oblivious one.  And he knew what he was well enough, perhaps even better than most know themselves.  He knew his bonds were not as strong as most, no matter how easily he formed them, and he had long since made his peace with that.  He saw himself as a simple man of simple pleasures, and saw no shame in that.

He was not unaware of the merchant's growing melancholy, nor was he blind to the masked pain of the blacksmith’s daughter.  Nor the other buried feelings between the two.  He’d hoped all that would either blow up or fade with time, but he hadn’t anticipated it festering this long.

He liked to think he knew when to end a good thing before it goes bad, but admitted to himself that this time he may have been complacent.

And so, one spring day, he sighed to himself and declared he needed a new sword.

Of course, there was only one smith who would do.

It was raining when they arrived in the merchant’s once-favorite village.  She found it fit her melancholy these days.  A place she’d first seen full of light and color, now dim and drab.  She hated that she now felt dread instead of joy in coming here.  She was surprised when the beautiful swordsman said he wished to speak to the blacksmith’s daughter in private about the commission, but secretly relieved.  It was strange though that they talked all day, and through the night.  

She never did learn exactly what they spoke of.

The blacksmith’s daughter did not know what to make of the long conversation herself at first.  Nor of the commission.  Her voice was sore the next day, she had not spoken at such length for… well, she didn’t know how long it had last been.  The next day she did not pick up a hammer.  She only sat, and thought, and paced, and planned.  And then the next day, she worked.  And the next and next until she quenched the metal in her own blood and tears.  Only once her frenzied work was finished did she pause to rest for a moment on the floor of her workshop.  A pause that became a deep sleep.

She never did learn what the merchant and the beautiful swordsman spoke of during those days.

When the merchant woke the next morning, the rain had stopped and the beautiful swordsman was gone.

When the blacksmith’s daughter woke the next morning, the rain had stopped and the sword she made was gone.

The other item from the commission remained.

When the merchant reached the door of the workshop, she hesitated, unsure if she was doing the right thing.

When the blacksmith’s daughter reached the door of the workshop, she hesitated, unsure if she was doing the right thing.

The knock came at the same time the handle turned.

The two of them stared at one another as if for the first time.  

The blacksmith’s daughter invited the merchant inside to see the second half of the beautiful swordsman’s commission.  As they walked through the maze her workshop had become, she nervously explained that the first part of the commission had been the easy one.  Only a blade finer than any seen before, worthy of its own name and stories.  The second half had been the most difficult piece she’d ever attempted to forge.

“Her own heart’s desire.”

The simple hair ornament was a small, plain thing, but it shone brilliantly against a head of graying hair.

[2tcs]

Day 4: Going to an event where a relative is performing and Planet

“Come on hurry up!” Steph’s excitement was contagious as Dick began bouncing on his toes as they tried to find a good spot to see the stage. Tim had offered to buy seats in the balcony to be able to see better without the crowd but apparently they needed the ‘full mosh experience’. 

“Who are these people again Steph?” Tim asked. He knew exactly who they were but it was always fun pretending he didn’t.

“Ugh. Tim! I know you know who the Specters are! And today they’re doing a face reveal at the end of the show!” Steph said as she started to bounce in place. Watching her and Dick standing next to each other reminds Tim of why he ordered more shots of espresso than normal. They were like excited puppies.

“Happy. Excited.” Cass whispered next to him while smiling at Steph and Dick.

“GOOD EVENING GOTHAM CITY!” The lead singer, Farshee, said as a toxic green glow and fog overtook the stage. “WE ARE THE SPECTERS. AND TONIGHT. TONIGHT WE WILL PLAY FOR YOU THE CONCERT OF THE DEAD!”

At the end of this announcement, the lights brightened to wight and the fog cleared and revealed the band members. Farshee the lead singer, Siren the lead guitar, Temptress on the bass guitar, and Jinx on the drums.

“LET’S SET THIS THING OFF!” Siren yelled before letting strumming her guitar as her and Temptress screamed before Farshee started singing.

Throughout the concert, Tim noticed how a lot of the songs involved accidents and death. It shouldn’t have been much of a surprise considering the name of the band and the name they chose for this concert. Tim thinks he remembers Steph saying that it was the name that the band was using for their upcoming album. By the time the band Tim had completely forgotten the reveal. That is until Farshee took off his mask and Time was faced with the face of his twin. The twin he wasn’t supposed to know about. The twin that his parents had given up at birth. Holy shit! That way Daniel!

“So now you've seen our faces.” Farshee said with a slight smile on his lips as his bandmates took off their own masks. “My name is Danny.”

“My name is Ember. Remember it.” Siren said as she strummed a cord on her guitar.

“You can call me Kitty.” Temptress gave her name with a wink as Jinx walked up and wrapped an arm around her waist.

“And I’m Jonny. Sup.”

“Now I know many of you are wondering why we decided to reveal ourselves. Well in order for me to properly explain I need to clear up a common misconception about us. When we first started two years ago many of you pegged us as being metas. Now many of you have noticed that we never confirmed or denied this. And there's a reason for that.” After saying that Danny posed and seemed to be trying to fortify his nerves. As Tim looked at the other members of the band he noticed that they were all fidgeting.

“Nervous. Scared.” Cass said beside Tim.

“Scared of what? Met as are protected.” Steph asked as Dick got a serious look on his face.

“The truth is.” Danny started before nervously licking his lips. “The truth is that we’re not. Metas that is. We do have powers but those powers are something most of our people have. We're what the American government has dubbed an ecto-entities.We call ourselves spirits and ghosts. After tonight our website will have a forum posted for questions if you have any. But the main thing to know is that during Luthor's presidency a set of laws were passed called the Anti-Ecto Acts. These laws state that anything that is made of, produces, or consumes a substance called ectoplasm is to be handed over to the government for containment, experimentation, and disposal.” As Danny spoke more and more voices in the crowd started to shout in outrage at what was just implied.

“That goes in direct violation of the meta protection act.” Dick said in shock.

“Shit. Its real.” Tim gasped in shock as he looked up the law on his phone, catching the attention of some of the people around him who pulled out their phones to look at the law themselves.

“There’s a branch of the government that is tasked with enforcing this law. They are called the Ghost Investigation Ward or GIW. Normally we would not be open with what we are due to this group but in the last month there has been a change. A large number of people nationwide have disappeared. Normally this would, sadly, be normal. People disappear every day. But our people keep a census on who and how many of us are on this side of the vail. And over a third of those people have disappeared practically overnight. So this is us. Calling out to the Justice League and you the people. Help us be able to exist in peace. Help us gain our freedom. And help us call out the US government. This government sanctioned genocide. And if you think that you are safe? That this doesn’t affect you? Just look around. How many people do you know who have had a brush with death? How many heroes do you know of who have died and then come back to life? Death leaves a mark. That is a saying that you hear everywhere. And it is true. Anyone who has been close to death has traces of ectoplasm on them. Therefore they are subject to the Anti-Ecto Act.” Sighing Danny looked up into the crowd. Searching for something before addressing the audience again. “I wish we could end this concert on a happy note. But I can’t brush this off anymore. I can’t ignore it anymore. And I hope you all reach out to your loved ones and make sure they're safe. I hope you all stay safe.”

With a final look around the stadium the Specters walked backstage, leaving everyone else to find their own exit.

“I think the B will want to hear about this.” Dick said.

“I think he’s going to have an aneurysm the moment he hears about this.” Steph adds.

“Mad.” Cass said with a nod.

“Typing up the report now and running a scan of all government documentation that references ghosts, spirits, ectoplasm, and the Anti-Ecto Acts. They’re set to automatically download and save a copy to my private laptop. That way I have a viable excuse if these GIW agents can see if their stuff is tampered with. So far I can see a lot of redacted files. This might take O getting involved.” Tim said before turning away from the exit to head backstage.

“And where are you going?” Dick asked.

“To talk to my brother.”

“What are you talking about? I didn’t see anyone else here.” Steph said as she caught up with Tim.

“New old brother.” Cass smiled while looking at Tim.

“Ya Cass. Our parents gave him up for adoption when we were born so he probably doesn’t know. The only reason I know was after the first clone debacle with Cadmus and I did a search on my one face. Got a 99% match and looked into him. Our parents didn’t even give him a name.”

“Well that’s messed up. We’ll just have to make sure he knows that he is always welcome. You know B will have the papers signed the moment he sees him and finds out that he needs help.” Dick chimed in as he typed something on his phone. Judging by the chime that Tim heard from Steph and Cass phones he must have messaged the group chat.

“Hay you! You can’t go back there.” A guard said as they were about to head through the employees only doors.

“My name is Timothy Drake-Wayne. I want to help but I need to talk to the Specters to see if they would be willing to work with the Wayne lawyers to help fight the government. Would you please inform the band of my offer? Me and my family will wait here while you do.” Tim said before leaning against the wall making it clear he wasn’t going to leave until his request was fulfilled.

“I can ask if they will see you but no means no and if they don’t want to see you”

“Then we will leave. Now please inform them of my offer.”

“Pushy rich pricks.” The guard mumbled before gesturing for another guard to watch the door while he delivered the message.

A few minutes later and a coded report to Bruce's batphone the guard came back and waved them through the door and towards the break room that the band was using. Upon entering the room Tim noticed that the band had already changed out into more comfortable clothing and were lounging around the far side of the room. Except for Danny. He was sitting at a table that was placed in the middle of the room. When he noticed them enter he sat up straighter and gave a half smile.

“Hay Tim. Never thought we would ever get to meet face to face. Wish it was under better circumstances though.” Danny greeted them.

“You expected to meet me someday?” Tim asked as he took the seat across from Danny.

“A friend of mine pointed out how much we looked alike and we joked about it until my sister overheard us and mentioned that mom and dad kept my adoption papers with our baby memorabilia in the attic. I thought she was just joking and told her to prove it. So she grabbed the papers and showed them to me. Mr. and Mrs. Drake’s names were on the birth certificate. A little google searching and figured out that we were twins. I also know that you looked into me a few years back yourself.” Danny chuckled.

“After the Cadmus Labs were found to be doing cloning I got a bit paranoid and did a facial recognition scan on the internet. Found you and did my own digging. You looked happy. I didn’t want to intrude.” Tim said before pulling out his phone and bringing up the acts. “I can get a hold of my lawyers and have them fight the validity of this law. I can also make sure that you and your friends and family are safe.”

“Thank you Tim. And here. I was planning on getting Batman's attention while I was here and giving him this but considering the Wayne famile’s connections? This is just as good.” Danny said as he pushed a small cloth pencil bag over to Tim.

“A flash drive?” Dick asked as he looked over Tim’s shoulder as he opened the bag.

“Several flash drives.” Steph said as she took the bag from Tim and started counting.

“It’s all the information that me and my friends were able to get. They’re even color coded. green is for the laws and basic profiling. yellow is for the things that the GIW has been caught doing in public. And red is for the things that they have been doing behind closed doors. I would suggest leaving the red one for the Justice League. It has some really graphic stuff on it that someone who hasn’t seen the worst of humanity wouldn’t be able to handle.” Danny said while looking at his hands. “I don’t want you to see them.”

“They hurt you.” Cass said softly while hugging herself.

“Ya. They hurt me. And so many others… Tim. Here’s my personal number. If you or the League has any questions please don’t hesitate to ask. And here.” Danny began drawing on a piece of paper before handing what looked like a summoning circle over to Tim with his card. “That is a one time use summoning circle for Prince Phantom.”

“You know a Prince?” Dick asked.

“This is Tim’s twin brother. Are you seriously surprised that someone who shared a womb with this weirdo wouldn’t have strange acquaintances?” Steph asked while giving Dick a deadpan look.

“Fine. You have a point.” Dick pouted.

“Here. This is by business card and on the back is my personal cell number. I’ll make sure these get to the Bat. I’ll admit. I’m curious how you got involved with this. So if you’re willing. Can we talk about it?” Tim asked when he handed over his own card.

“Thanks. I’ll think about it. But me and my friends need to get moving so when the GIW storm Gotham looking for us we’ll be hidden away in one of the safe houses that we have set up.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to stay in one of the safehouses that we have set up?” Tim offered.

“No, but I appreciate the offer. It’s just safer if we don’t involve you any more than I already have.” Danny said while going over to the door and opening it. Clearly indicating the end of the discussion.

“Okay. Just know my offer stands. Talk to you later?”

“Ya. Talk to you later. Stay safe.” Danny said before shutting the door behind him.

“Welp. Back to work I guess.” Steph shrugged as she began to walk back the way they came.

“Don’t worry Tim. We’ll make sure these laws are repealed and you can set up a proper meeting with your twin.” Dick tried to reassure Tim as he wrapped one of his arms around Tim’s shoulder in a side hug.

“Protect brother.” Cass promised as she tapped her knuckles against Tim’s.

When they got home they called an emergency meeting in the batcave. And after Batman read through the law he took a quick glimpse of what was on the red flash drive. And immediately took the flash drives and headed to the watchtower.

[harmoonix]

👑Iconic Astrology Notes

✮_✮_✮_✮_✮✮_✮_✮✮_✮_✮✮_✮

12th house placements are very intuitive and spiritual, if Sun and Moon are in the 12th house they can feel when someone lies to them. Also some natives with 12th house placements are connected to the spirit realm and can recieve dreams from the Spirits

Mercury/Venus in the 10th house can be highly artistic people, tend to like the music and arts a lot, find inspiration in art, nature, music, and love.

Venus - Asc aspects; Are very gracious and gentle people, you are pretty and you should know that, they can also find love in everything and everyone around them, is giving this Disney princess vibe (The sleeping beauty + Beauty and the Beast vibe) . You can also have a very good style in fashion and to dress how you want no matter what others say, you shine 💋

Uranus - Asc aspects: Omg these people have something unique in their appearance that make people to be very interested in them and to like them, might be the eyes, the hands,the face, your voice etc... There is something unique in you

Pluto in late degrees (between 20° - 29° degrees) makes the native to be in search for power, for better understanding of their power, for their authority. They are powerful but need to find this power within themselves 🙏🏼

Jupiter - Venus aspects: You are charming and known for that, people can often tell you that you're pretty or that you dress nice. They like to be SPOILED, and to feel that they are loved for real. These aspects can be like: "I'm more things than being pretty but you only look at someone's outside" .

Mars - Sun/Moon aspects: Can have anger issues/getting mad easily, they are not always aggresive but can be exploding when something doesn't work in their life. Usually they have really good body structure and sharp pretty face

Descendant Degrees are the same degrees as your ascendant 💕

Descendant at 5°, 17°, 29° degrees or Leo in the 7th house tend to attract narcissist partners take care please 😭, when they tell you that they "like" you...Babe they "like" how you make them feel...

Descendant at 8°, 20° degrees or Scorpio in the 7th house tend to attract very misterious partners, usually their partners can be very private about their lives but might also be very jealous and possesive

Descendant at 4°, 16° 28° degrees or Cancer in the 7th house tend to attract partners who are very " home - life" oriented, they can have this desire for a good family life, also you're lucky af because your partner can become extremely attached be you 🥹💕

Venus/Moon in the 8th house/Libra/Taurus in the 8th house: They are loving very deep and can become extremely attached to their partners, sometimes they can have posesive traits because of their deep feelings. Those people really need to find partners who can love them for who they are!! Also they are very affectionate!!💕💕

Harsh aspected Moon (Moon having a lot of squares and oppositions from other planets), When moon is harshly aspected can make the native to struggle emotionally and to have it difficult to express/exprim their emotions. It can be difficult to open yourself to other people and to trust others. (Moon in Scorpio/8th house can deal with trust issues). Since the Moon represent the mother it can also means having mommy issues and hard to connect with your mom (emotionally)

Air Placements in the big 3 (Sun, Moon or Rising) have a thing for dancing and music, is literally their thing. They can be obsessed with music and dancing..These people having concerts at 3 am in their room...🫰🏼😭

Aries/Scorpio and Sagittarius Placements especially if you have Venus in these signs can get horny so fast and sometimes is so random 😭 is their thing, also that thing with "Inexplicable getting horny randomly" . They also get freaky and crazy most times without a reason aswell 🤣

Men with heavy earth/fire placements in their chart give big 🍆 energy...hands down, their personality is very bossy and dominant + daddy vibes. Also very attractive + sexy natives

Mercury and Pluto aspects are the definition of "Sharp tongue" they have this very attractive voice but the thing about them is that..these natives can be prone to cuss and talking dirty most of times. They can end you with their words in a fight/argument

Chiron and Moon/Venus aspects can get very hard over a breakup (friends/lovers break-ups) these natives love to make memories and when such thing happens they have it hard to get over it :(. It can also be hard because these natives attach so fast to people and they can be also very sensitive. They hold a lot of healing with their emotions and feelings and don't you dare ever to hurt a person like this because they are the sweetest people alive. Periodt

18+ Lilith and True Lilith [h13] in aspects to Pluto/Mars literally have this vibe of "Come and f*** me" 😭. They are very sensual and they love pleasure there is no reason to lie here hands down they are horny 24/7

18+ Lilith and True Lilith [h13] in aspects to Jupiter and Saturn can be very intense and kinky, Jupiter amplifies their sexual energy and Saturn comes and makes them attracted to serious and dominant partners

Lilith/True Lilith in the 6th/10th/12th houses are very similar and i will tell you why besties... They attract people from their work both of them. Because they can be very appealing and both have a good appealing body who can make a lot of into them.

Lilith/True Lilith in the 5th/7th/8th houses are those type of who really love to have a fun time in bed because they can he kinky af 😭 praying for your beds because the only imagine i have in my head is that Twilight scene where Edward breaks the bed with Bella😭😭😭😭

Venus - Pluto aspects want to have that deep and safe love and to feel loved for once because usually these people went through very much relating to relationships and their partners or ex partners could be very toxic. They are very powerful and intuitive when it comes to their partners lying on them or hiding something from them

Pluto in the 1st/10th/11th houses can attract people who pretend to be their friends or "nice" people to them but be careful because most times they will betray or backstab you and talk behind your back. Take care with those who pretend to be your friends

Earth Placements in big 3 (Sun, Moon, Rising) can struggle with anxiety and stress most of the times. They are very gentle and gracious natives and always ready to help those who need but who is there to help them when they also need someone?...These people can be extremely sacrificing

People with Virgo Placements and People with Saturn in the 6th/12th houses are getting tired so fast..they are not lazy or something, rather just they overthink and work very much and at the end of the day they can be very tired. Also problems with sleep can happen and let's say these natives deserve to have a good sleep 💤

Good day for you queens and kings 🌹👑, a new day a new post 🫰🏼🌸. This post has more dark vibes than my light aesthetic posts but i like it so much! Hope you all are doing good and are happy together with the people you love!🌺 I wish you many many many blessings and good coming for you!

Never ever forget how special you are, you are unique, inspiring, creative, brave and beautiful. You are the art of life 🌺🌠

- Harmoonix 💋

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hobie x deadpool reader or spider reader

Hobie Brown x Deadpool male reader

Headcanons

I love Deadpool, who doesn’t love Deadpool? I tried to think of what Deadpool would be like in Hobies’ earth, and I just feel like he would kinda just be the same as always, except maybe with a metal aesthetic. And any chance to work my favorite music into stuff? I’m taking it.

You were Deadpool, and had been Deadpool for a long time. In the beginning it had just been your musician and artist name. Much of your music was different types of metal, with lyrics focused on judging the system and pointing fingers at its corruption.

Of course, a lot of people hated your music, but there was also those who loved it. One of them being Hobie Brown. Even before he became spiderman, hed always been a very righteous person with strong opinions about corruption and capitalism, so finding an artist who shared his views was great.

That was until you got a little too popular and stepped on the wrong people’s toes with your music and art. When you started pointing fingers at Osborn and his wild corruption, those against you grew more and more violent.

And at one of your biggest concerts to date, one that offered all the proceeds to those in need, you were assassinated right on stage. Theories would go around saying it was Osborn wanting to get rid of you, and telling everyone what would happen if they crossed him.

Panic consumed the arena after you were shot right on stage, and in the panic your body was whisked away. Deadpool became an icon in the anarchist circle, as one of the first to stand up against suppression and never back down no matter what.

Time would pass, Hobie would become Spiderman, and he would fight people like Osborn, even killing the guy with his guitar in the end.

But even after killing Osborn, the world was still in disarray, meaning a lot of work had to be done. So, when someone who went by Deadpool started popping up in stories and rumors, it caught people’s attention.

It was assumed you were just a fan, who wanted to use the legendary name of Deadpool to spread your message, or maybe the honor the original Deadpool. That was until people met you though.

You had the same clothes, only now wearing a mask. Your boots, your jacket, your spikes, and patches, even your guitar, you had it all. And on closer inspection, true fans could see it was the real thing.

You were almost like a ghost of the past, stories would go around that you were the angered spirit of the musician Deadpool, having crawled out of hell to wreak havoc on the upper class and tear out the roots of capitalism.

Hobie would want to meet you of course, you were like his hero and biggest inspiration. The first time you two would meet would be during a fight of some sort, and you’d chuck your guitar across the battlefield to nail a corrupt cop in the head before they could get a lucky shot at Hobie.

After that you two became close like two peas in a pod. Hobie would never treat you like you were someone above him, even though he had admired you for years, because he doesn’t believe in treating celebrities like gods.

Soon Deadpool and Spiderman being spotted together was a common sight, and so was seeing spiderman swing around with Deadpool in his arms or hanging on his back like a koala.

You never really take off your mask in the beginning, but when you do Hobie learns why you keep it on. You have a large scar taking up part of your head where the bullet had blown your head apart all that time ago.

You had apparently always been a mutant with a light healing factor, which had kept you alive, but you had been whisked away from Osborn researchers who wanted to use your healing factor. But in the end, they’d simply boosted your powers and you became pretty much unkillable.

This leads to you taking most of the hits during battle, since you can easily take it, anything you lose will just grow back. That doesn’t stop Hobie from worrying though, because seeing someone get their arm sliced off is pretty extreme.

Your first kiss is something you’d only have with a version of Deadpool. Hobie would be carrying your head after it’s been sliced off, and you would be asking him for a kiss and blowing him kisses from where hes carrying your head.

Now, anyone normal wouldn’t do what Hobie does, but Hobie doesn’t like to fit the mold. So, he would lift your severed but still living head and kiss you on the lips. Cue a make out until your body stumbles over and you can get your head back on.

You two never actually put a label to what you are, because that’s not the type of person you two are. But you two are pretty much dating now. You move into an apartment together, and sleep in the same bed at night, and kiss whenever you want.

Spiderman and Deadpool pretty much become icons in your community, for standing up towards oppression, and also being two hot guys who hold concerts after fights.

[reysdriver]

Exit Stage Right | R.L

You and your daughter miss Remus while he's performing for a stadium of fans, so much that you have to see him before the concert is over — dad!rockstar!remus x mom!reader fluff

warnings: a little angsty if you squint rlly hard, but nothing else

words: 2.4k

a/n: I promised rockstar!remus a while ago, but I've been to 2 concerts in the last 2 weeks, which just so happens to be finals season, so I've been simultaneously busy as hell and itching to write this. I hope you like how it turned out!

Your daughter Olive was no stranger to loud noises. 

Remus had a room to practise drumming in your house, it’s normal to encounter a chaotic mess of fans and paparazzi when you left the house as a family, and she just about had the loudest uncles in the world. Though you tried to limit the amount of noise she took in, Olive’s little ears had definitely adapted to her hectic little life. 

But all that noise in her daily life was no match for a rock concert in a sold-out stadium. Those decibel levels would for sure be far too high for her little ears to handle.

It wasn’t as easy of a decision on what you should do with her tonight, though. You were getting cabin fever with all the identical hotel rooms you’ve been living in while The Marauders were on their tour, and you suspected Olive was in the same boat. 

So, you decided to go back to the old days when the band first started going on long tours, when you would stay in the dressing room for the length of the performance. You and Remus figured it would be soundproof enough backstage, but you still insisted on pulling out the baby headphones you had bought just in case before she was even born. You were only planning on using them if it got especially loud backstage, yet you tried them on anyway. 

They were massive on her, but they kept her safe and happy. Plus, she was pretty damn adorable with them on—not that she wasn’t all the time, but definitely cuter than normal with those giant headphones. 

Waiting for the show to start, Remus bounced Olive on his lap while you watched the rest of the guys run through their current individual pre-show rituals. 

It had been quite a while since you’ve been backstage with the band right before a show, and you honestly forgot how entertaining it was. 

James was trying to solve the same Rubik’s cube he’s been working on for years to warm up his fingers, Peter was doing the daily crossword in the local newspaper, and Sirius was trying to multitask by doing his vocal warmups and his makeup at the same time. 

It was really a terrible combination of tasks, as Sirius kept on messing up his eyeliner and then trying to suppress his favourite swear words for your daughter’s sake. 

You wanted to tell him off, but it was really too fun to watch for you to intervene.

A minute or so after Sirius finally finished his look, the boys’ manager knocked on the dressing room door and reminded them that they have to go on stage soon. 

Remus thanked him, and the guys all started getting ready to go. He kept Olive in his arms for as long as he could, until it was just the three of you in the room after everyone was already headed to the stage. 

When he finally had to let her go, Remus made sure he gave you both a proper goodbye. 

“I’ll be back soon. Just over 2 hours, then we can all go home.” He kissed you softly, but deeply. He always does this as a way of saying goodbye, kissing you like he might never do it again, but he doesn’t want you to think about it. 

When his lips left yours and he slouched down to blow a raspberry on Olive’s tummy, you sighed quietly. “A hotel, not home.” 

He looked at you sympathetically as he collected his drumsticks from the table beside you and stored them in his back pocket for the time being. 

“Isn’t home anywhere where we’re all together?” He said, trying to lift your spirits. “But we’ll be home home soon enough. And I won’t be on tour again for a while, and we can be all together as much as we want.”

That did make you feel better. Even though you loved that Remus was living his dream with his best friends and giving you and Olive a great life, it did get stressful from time to time. 

Privacy violations by paparazzi and media outlets, insecurity that sometimes got the best of you on both sides of the relationship, and of course, The Marauders going on world tours that were fun, but still somewhat torture. They made it so you had to choose between leaving home for months, or being away from Remus—not that there was any difference between those two. 

You didn’t want to get emotional right when Remus had to go perform, so you smiled and reminded him that it was time for you to part ways for the evening. 

“They’re waiting for you out there.” 

A grin graced your husband’s face. “They can wait a little longer.” 

“They paid to see you.” You reminded him. 

“And I'll personally refund all of them if I don't go out.” 

“Then we'll be out of money, and we'll both have to get new jobs and we'll never have any time with just the three of us.”

Remus pretended to think over your point for a second. “You’re right. I guess I have to go out and perform, then.”

“Put on a good show, honey. We'll see you soon.” 

While saying goodbye to him, you raised Olive’s arm so you could wave at Remus for her as he walked out of the dressing room. Her face was already forming a pout when she watched her dad leave to go do his job, but you wouldn’t let that morph into anything more. 

You turned her around so you could both look at each other, then you pressed a kiss to her chubby cheek.

“None of that, sweetheart. We’ll see him again in no time.” 

Laying her down beside you on the couch, you reach down into the baby bag you never go anywhere without and pick out some of her favourite toys from their specific pocket; hopefully those will keep her distracted and happy. 

◆◇◆◇◆

The toys didn’t work as well as you thought they would. They kept Olive busy for about an hour, but she seemed to snap out of her happy baby daze out of nowhere. 

She started crying and nothing was working to calm her down. She wasn’t hungry, she didn’t need to be changed, and nothing you had brought for this very reason was working. 

You knew the only thing that could quell her upset was outside and on the stage, playing drums for a stadium of fans. But even though she and Remus both wished they could spend all hours of the day together, you just didn’t know how that could work.  

And then you remembered the headphones. 

The sound backstage hadn’t been that loud at all while The Marauders were playing, so you honestly hadn’t thought about them since you and Remus packed them before you left the hotel. 

But this could work. You could use them to help both you and Olive right now. So that’s what you did.

You dug through your bag and pulled the noise-cancelling headphones from the bottom of the bag, where they had sat untouched for the longest time. After picking them up with a tiny ‘aha’, you smiled at your daughter and told her that she would soon be seeing her dad. 

She had calmed down somewhat due to the mere mention of Remus, but she was still wailing in your arms. You bounced her lightly while you walked down the halls of the stadium. 

“It’s okay, honey.” You cooed at Olive, despite the fact that she couldn’t hear a thing. “You’re gonna tire yourself out and fall asleep before you even get to see Daddy. We don’t want that, do we?”

Although, maybe her crying herself to sleep wouldn’t be so bad. 

It still wasn’t an option in your mind. Your daughter wanted to see her dad, so over to Remus you’ll go. 

Once you got to the stage door, a burly security guard gave you a questioning look. You supposed he wasn’t used to a woman and a baby wanting to go into the wings during a rock concert. But he was just there to do his job, not judge, so he let you through when you showed him your ID. 

You kept checking Olive’s face to see her expressions and gauge if everything was too loud for her. Her look didn’t deviate from the bothered expression her face took on when you started walking with her, so you assumed the headphones were cancelling out the noise, just as they were made for. 

Nobody who was working backstage seemed to mind you being there, so you found an extra stool in a dark corner and pulled it so you could sit and watch the band. 

Based just on how Olive was moving in your arms, you knew she had spotted her dad behind the cymbals he was smashing across the stage. Pointing towards Remus, you whispered to her again even though she couldn’t hear you. “Look! Who’s that? Who’s over there?”

She seemed to be cheered up enough just from seeing Remus, so your hypothesis was proven correct. Things were shaping up to be a good night. 

You swayed and headbanged—as lightly as possible—since just because Olive couldn’t enjoy the loud music doesn’t mean you had to ignore it too. 

The current song ended, and James was talking to the crowd while Sirius drank some much-needed water after all that singing. While taking a swig, the two familiar faces in the wings of the stage caught his eye, and he just had to share what he was seeing with the drummer. 

He practically skipped over to Remus, who was also catching his breath from performing and pointed you out. Your husband’s eyes scanned the area until he found you, and his face immediately broke out into a smile—and so did your daughter’s. 

Back in the dressing room, you were hesitant if you should leave at all or if you should just wait out Olive’s tantrum, but the matching looks on your husband and daughter’s faces right now was proof that you made the right decision. 

Olive made grabby hands towards her dad across the stage, and Remus waved right back and blew a kiss in your direction. You weren’t quite sure if it was aimed at you or your little girl, but it made you blush either way. 

He pointed to the setlist taped to the ground beside him and hid his hand behind his bass drum so the audience wouldn’t see his gesture; he held up three fingers to let you know there would be three more songs until he could get up and give you two his full attention. You knew they would most definitely be doing an encore after they finished, but at least they could all have a small break after the main show.  

You nodded to show him you understood, but his attention was already grabbed back by James giving him the sign that it was time to get back into the music. Not even taking more than a second to prepare, Remus was back in the groove and started playing the next song on the list, effortlessly and perfectly. 

The last few songs of the main set were some of your favourites from the band’s discography, but you had to admit that you couldn’t enjoy them as much as you usually would. 

It was mainly because you were somewhat scared of an impending mood swing out of your daughter now that her father’s attention had left her, but also because these three songs were standing in between you and your husband like a brick wall right now. You just had to remind yourself that once they hit that last note and said their goodbyes to the crowd, that wall would be temporarily smashed once more. 

But now, they were at the end of the concert. The crowd was cheering like they just had the best night of their lives—you don’t doubt that they did—and Remus was throwing his sticks into the sea of hands desperate for a morsel of The Marauders. 

His rockstar persona was dropped the second those drumsticks left his hands, and he was rushing to the wings to be with you and Olive, a wide smile strung across his cheeks.

 He pulled you two out into the hall so the crowd’s noise could be in the background. He knew they would be cheering for an encore in a minute; as much as he loved that sound, he would rather hear you. 

“She was getting pretty fussy and I knew you were the only thing that would calm her down.” You explained to Remus before he could even ask. 

You were afraid he would be upset with you bringing her outside of the dressing room, but he didn’t seem fazed at all. He gently took Olive from your arms and cooed over her. 

“You missed me so much you dragged your mum out here so you could see me, huh?” Remus asked her. “You know I missed you too, princess. Both of you.”

“Yeah? Maybe you should get the guys to shorten the setlist so you aren’t away from us for too long, then.”

He didn’t respond, but you know that he had brought up the idea of shorter tours to the others now that he and James were both fathers. 

You watched lovingly as Remus kept moving Olive’s hand away from the glitter on his face that she was so desirous to touch. You wished you all could stay in this moment forever, but the audience’s chants for an encore were getting louder and louder and you knew the scene in front of you couldn’t last much longer. 

Right on schedule, James strutted up and tapped Remus on the shoulder with a brand new pair of drumsticks. 

“We’ve gotta go back out there, mate. Time to part ways with your girls once again.”

Remus wouldn’t put up a fight. He handed Olive back to you and blew one more kiss at you two as a goodbye.

The doors opened and a cacophony of fan cheers hit your ears. It was a lot, but it just reminded you that all those people were waiting for your husband, so you could wait a few more minutes. 

Just two final songs, then you could all go home.

[those-aurora-spirits]

Raito, you so cute *Patting*

Raito answers:

Raito: I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you very properly. Could you repeat tha-

Raito: Oh!

Raito: Oh! My stars, thank you! I’ve never had someone call me cute before- in a long time- i-

Raito: I-

Raito: Im sorry, it was silly of me.

[eufezco]

HEART TO HEART — FINNICK ODAIR x FEM!READER

Synopsis — It's hard to get your life back on track when the Capitol has gotten inside your head but Finnick is there to help you. You were enjoying a party in District 13 when you discovered something that triggered you.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ And I break down, then he's pulling me in. In a world of boys, he's a gentleman ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Finnick looked at Katniss and considered himself a lucky man.

Although both of them had managed to get back the loves of their lives, their situations now were quite different from what they were used to. Finnick now looked at Peeta and realized how the Capitol had completely destroyed the friend he made in the games, making him incapable of telling the difference between what was real and what the Capitol put in his head. Finnick saw the sadness grow in Katniss' eyes as she and Peeta couldn't spend more than five minutes together without him wanting to jump on her neck.

You, on the other hand, had your moments of lucidity.

Finnick considered himself lucky for being able to enjoy the person you were before the Capitol took you, but the longer those moments lasted, the worse your breakdowns were.

Even though he considered himself luckier than Katniss, it wasn't being easy for him either. He hated to see you fighting the medical team from District 13 while they were trying to inject you with a sedative and the way he had to hold you so they could do it. He hated to see you with your hands and legs tied to the bed as you tried to free yourself from the straps that held you to the mattress. He hated to see your eyes red with rage, the way you flinched when someone made an unexpected move next to you, and how you could not help but be alert to everything that was going on around you.

But Finnick also appreciated when he saw you smile, or talking to someone who wasn't him, or seeing that you had changed your clothes that day or enjoying your meal in the dining room. The way your eyelashes fluttered when he spoke to you like he was the most magnificent thing you had ever seen, how you were always looking to have some sort of physical contact with him whether it was sitting too close at the table or something more subtle like seeking for his hand in the crowd as you listened to the words that Alma Coin pronounced.

The Capitol caused irreparable damage but they had not been able to take everything from you.

―Let's give a huge round of applause to Sarah and Mike from District 11!

The two siblings had been singing since dinner was over along with their band. The lights in the dining room were dimmer, not the cold white ones that gave you a headache every time you went inside. They had set up a small stage and some decorations on the ceiling. Alma Coin knew that Christmas was close and wanted to do something special to raise people's spirits, and it seemed to be working because after dinner, people had stayed to listen to the siblings sing, and some had even encouraged to go out and dance.

―We still have time for a couple more songs, any requests? ―The boy spoke into the microphone, looking at the audience.

It was your hand that rose.

Finnick and Katniss who were sitting at the table with you looked at each other. You got up from the table and walked to the stage, well, you didn't feel your feet moving on the floor, it was more like you were floating. You were enjoying the little concert so much that you had managed to remember all the lyrics of the songs that they had performed when just a few days ago you couldn't even remember your name, your feet moved under the table following the rhythm of the instruments and you even hummed some of the words.

Both siblings approached the edge of the stage and bent down to listen to the title of the song you were asking for. They looked at each other, satisfied, and more than approving your request. You went back to your seat at the table, happy, and before Katniss and Finnick could ask about the song, the little girl called your name through the microphone.

―Why don't you come and sing with us? ―She asked you in her sweet voice. All the people in the dining room were waiting for your answer, some you knew were encouraging you to come up like Haymitch and Effie, and others you knew were judging you just by the way their eyes were on you like Gale, but you didn't care because since your return you had never wanted anything so much as to get on that stage with those two kids.

Finnick held your hand, his eyebrows drawn together. ―Are you sure?

You nodded and showed him a little smile, reassuring him.

They welcomed you with smiles and sweet gestures to show you where to stand. They had placed a microphone in the middle of the two siblings for you.

―May I? ―You asked for the guitar the young girl was holding. She showed you a smile and gave it to you. The guitar felt out of place in your hands, as if it was a stranger and it was the first time you were meeting each other. That was not the truth, the truth was that you had been playing the guitar for as long as you could remember. You liked to play it for the children at District 4 while they sat around the campfire in the sand accompanied by Finnick and they sang with you. But now it all seemed so far away and the instrument felt odd in between your fingers.

You coughed to clear your throat without realizing that you did it right into the microphone. Finnick smiled at how innocent that had been and you smiled embarrassed. ―Sorry.

The two siblings from District 11 were looking at you with their big eyes and with smiles of comfort on their faces, waiting for you to start singing but all those people staring at you was all you could think about. You couldn't remember how the lyrics started.

Finnick nodded at you from the audience.

Can't take my past Can't take my history

The little girl sang for you. There was a friendly expression on her face. Her eyebrows were raised as she was singing the beginning of the song and she nodded as she looked at you, trusting that you knew the words and helping you with her kind gesture to find them.

You could take my pa But his name's a mystery

Her brother continued singing. A similar expression was on his face. Apart from your friends and Finnick, you had trouble finding people who trusted you in District 13. You didn't blame them because even you found it hard to trust yourself.

Nothing you can take from me Was ever worth keeping Nothing you can take Was ever worth keeping

Your voice didn't sound as you expected, it was still the same sweet voice as always. You expected to have completely destroyed it after all the screaming you did at the Capitol, but no, your voice was still there, just as Finnick remembered it. He was trying very hard not to burst into tears because he knew you were watching him.

The band played the song perfectly on their instruments while you tried to follow them on the guitar and more people listening to the lively rhythm of the song came out and danced in the center of the dining room.

Can't take my charm Can't take my humor You can't take my wealth 'Cause it's just a rumor Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

Those lines you were singing meant so much, it was like pulling the middle finger to the Capitol. He had never seen you so happy since before the Quarter Quell. There was a smile on your lips while you sang, your body moved to the rhythm of the son, your hands moved skilfully on the guitar, and the boy and the girl from District 11 danced on the stage around you.

―Come on. ―Katniss stood and Finnick looked up at her with his green eyes glassy thanks to the tears.

―Come on where? ―Finnick asked.

―We're gonna dance.

Katniss took his hands and dragged him to the dance floor.

Thinking you're so fine, thinking you can have mine Thinking you're in control Thinking you'll change me, maybe rearrange me Think again, if that's your goal

You laughed into the microphone watching them and you handed the little girl her guitar back. You came down from the stage to join them. Katniss stepped back when she saw you coming and you followed Finnick's movements. He had always been a very good dancer so you let him lead you. You twirled around, laughing, until you were so dizzy that you had to wrap your arms around Finnick's neck, your fingers digging into his hair while his arms went around your waist.

―You were amazing. ―He told you, speaking a little louder so that you could hear him over the music. You hugged him again.

―I love you so much.

Finnick cupped both of your cheeks and kissed you. ―I love you too. ―He said before the group of little girls pulled you by the arm so you'd dance with them.

He kept dancing or something like that with Katniss but with his eyes fixed on you. The girls were being so nice; two of them held your hands while the other two were dancing on their own. Their hairs were tied up in braids and they even asked you if they could braid yours later.

But all of a sudden, you let go of their hands and took a few steps backward, bumping into the people dancing. The girls looked at you worried, had they done something wrong? ―No, no, no. ―You mumbled to yourself.

Finnick stopped and approached you quickly, pushing people out of his way when he saw the change in your mood. He took your face in between his hands, looking for your eyes but they were focused on something that wasn't him. You pushed him once his hands cupped your cheeks, only making eye contact with him for a few seconds and then going back to focus on something else.

When Finnick decided to follow your gaze, he felt a wave of heat form in his lower body and rise to his head. Cressida was behind Castor, directing how the shots of you dancing with the girls should look like. By that time you already left the room.

You tried to record a propo a few days after your arrival in District 13. Heavensbee, but especially Coin, were very insistent that you should do it. They said that your rescue and your dedication to the revolution would bring hope to the people resisting in the districts. You weren't too sure about it, much less Finnick and Katniss, who could see how bad was your state to be exposed to something like that.

You were still in a daze, confused with everything that was going on, and very weak physically when you stood in front of the camera in the ruins of District 13 covered with white roses. The smell of the flowers made you fall to your knees in the debris before Finnick could catch you and throw up everything you had eaten since you were taken out of the Capitol.

―I'm okay, I can do this. ―You said, wiping your mouth with the cuff of your uniform, but it was not true and you found out that when you got in front of the camera. Castor pointed the lens at you while Cressida repeated behind him what you were supposed to say. The spotlights were on you and also were the eyes of the president herself, who had come to the surface to see you film the propo, and suddenly you were back at the Capitol, sitting in front of Caesar Flickerman, drugged to the point where you could not remember your name just the words they'd been repeating for you to say during the interview. Your outfit was tight, your face was covered with powder and make-up so that the bruises would not be visible.

―Don't make me regret rescuing you. ―Alma Coin said to you with a smile on her face before the propo. Something similar to what he told you when the Capitol took you out of the arena.

―Don't make me regret not killing you.

After that day, only one type of images of you was broadcast for the rest of the districts to see and they were of you living your life in District 13, recording you when you didn't notice and taking advantage of the moments when you were doing well to show it to the rest of the nation and obviously, without your consent.

Finnick was not happy with that decision and he made sure to make it clear at the meeting at which it was discussed, shouting, running his hands over his face, offering himself to do all the propos they wanted. He was desperate to get them to let you recover in peace.

Katniss agreed with Finnick. She did not like the idea of turning you into a product to fool people into thinking that everything was fine, much less without having your approval. Haymitch and Effie were silent but neither did they agree with what Alma Coin wanted to do with you and Beetee suggested other options but nothing was as valuable to Alma as your image.

The only ones who openly agreed with Heavensbee and Coin were Cressida and Gale. She said that it would be good for the spirit of rebellion and that they would do it so discreetly that you would never know. On the other hand, it seemed like Gale had a lot to say even though he didn't know you at all, and because of that, he ended up in the infirmary that afternoon after he replied to Finnick's complaints by saying:

―There are times when we have to do things we don't want to do, you should know that better than anyone else.

And Finnick couldn't help himself and get up from his seat and before Gale could finish speaking Finnick's fist was already against his cheekbone. That same hand with which Finnick hit Katniss' friend was now smacking Castor's camera into the floor, a gasp could be heard from the people who had stopped dancing to see what was happening. Finnick pointed at Cressida with his index finger, threateningly.

―I warned you to keep that shit away from her.

Katniss was fast to intervene, stepping in between Finnick and the woman. She looked at Cressida with pure rage but knew she couldn't do anything with all those people watching ―Go find her.

Finnick approached the girls you had been dancing with. He knelt by their side. ―Did you see where she went? ―He asked kindly to them, perfectly hiding his nervousness. One of them pointed at one of the doors and he immediately knew where you were. He flashed a smiled to her as a thank you.

―Have we done something wrong? ―She played with her hands.

―No, she was having lots of fun with you. ―Finnick caressed the hair at the top of the little girl's head and stood on his feet.

―When you find her, please tell her we still want to braid her hair.

You were sitting on the floor, holding your legs close to your chest. You had already hidden in that place several times before. It was Katniss who found the first time because it was the same place where she would hide right after she was rescued.

You moved back and forth, mumbling words that Finnick could not decipher, and with your head down, your forehead resting on your arms. When you heard Finnick's footsteps getting closer, you tried to escape him, crawling backward and watching as he quickly approached so that you couldn't get too far away. He fell to his knees in front of you, grabbing your cheeks again to make you look at him.

―It's me. It's Finnick.

You analysed his face, your eyes moving fast across his face looking for any friendly features on that face but all you could see was the face of a traitor. Your lips trembled as they continued to mumble I don't think I can forgive him for what he's doing, Caesar. I didn't know Finnick Odair was like that, I didn't know he would join the rebellion. What you do in the games is one thing but what you do outside the arena is what defines you.

―You're safe. We're in District 13, you're not there anymore.

You're right, Caesar. He has tricked me into thinking he was someone he is not. I thank president Snow everyday for helping me realize.

―You're from District 4. We live together. Our house is near to the beach. You won the 72th Hunger Games. We went back to the arena for the Quarter Quell. The Capitol took you. I'm Finnick Odair. I was your mentor along with Max.

If he were watching this I would tell him to think for himself. It's not too late to start doing things right and stop this war, and if he is unrepentant and this has always been his true self, Caesar, I think I may have never lov...

―You're here with us and we will protect you. Katniss is here at District 13 and so are Johanna and Peeta.

...I think I may have never lo...

―You're okay, baby.

...I may have never...

You hugged Finnick tightly against you, your eyes wide open and your hands shaking from the strength you were putting into holding him to be able to feel he was real. ―I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't know what's going on. I feel like I'm losing my mind. ―You cried.

Finnick shook his head while he held you almost as strongly as you held him. He kept whispering sweet words until he felt how your body began to relax. Finnick carefully pulled you away from him so he could use his thumbs to wipe away the tears running down your cheeks. ―It's fine, I'm here with you. It's not your fault, they've done horrible things to you but you're with me now, you're safe. They will have to go over my dead body to get their hands on you again.

He helped you to move so that you were sitting on his lap, with your head resting on his chest and his arms around your body. When some time passed and you calmed down, he could see it in the way your body had stopped shaking and also because you had stopped sobbing a while ago but you didn't want to separate from him, Finnick decided to try to cheer you up.

―Do you know who told me where you went?

You shook your head, really curious.

―Those new friends you made on the dance floor.

You pressed your lips into a smile, you were having so much fun with those little girls...―They were so cute, I must have scared them.

Finnick shook his head and kissed your temple. ―Not at all. They told me they'll wait for you. They said they wanted to braid your hair.

Now you really smiled, snuggling into his chest.

―Do you want me to take you to our room?

You shook your head, making yourself comfortable in Finnick's lap. It was not the most comfortable or welcoming place to be but he didn't want to rush you to leave. He was aware that they would be looking for you two, they would take you away from him and lock you in a room next to Peeta's, thinking that you were a menace and putting you in a place where the screams of the boy next door would drive you crazy.

―We can stay here for as long as you want then.

You hummed in response, closing your eyes and focusing on Finnick holding you in between his arms. Thanks to your head on his chest and the silence, you could hear Finnick's heart and you were relieved because it was the realest thing you had ever experienced. Its beats were peaceful but still managed to quiet all the noise in your head.

You were so immersed in Finnick's heartbeat you would swear yours was beating so hard against your chest because it wanted to escape your body so it could be closer to his.

[justlemmeadoreyou]

hey babes have you seen that video of a fan asking Niall out recently and like he says “oh she(Amelia) will be upset” ? Could you maybe write cut blurb based on that for Harry and y/n??

words: 1.2k

warnings: fluff, smut.

***

"Oi, Harry! You single, mate? My friend fancies you!" a voice called out from the crowd during the concert.

Harry laughed and brought the microphone up to his lips. "Sorry, sorry! I'm very much taken, lads. My girlfriend wouldn't be too pleased if I went accepting offers from admirers!"

Y/N felt a rush of giddy affection watching from the wings. Even after all these years of dating, of building a life together, hearing Harry refer to her as his girlfriend still made her heart flutter.

After the show, Harry swept her up into a tight embrace, breathing her in. "You know I'm crazy about you, right love?" he murmured against her hair.

"I know," Y/N replied, feeling warm and content in the circle of his arms. "I'm pretty crazy about you too, just in case that wasn't clear."

He pulled back with a teasing grin. "Oh, I don't know. You'll have to remind me more often. I'm getting forgetful in my old age."

She swatted him playfully. "You're ridiculous. Now c'mon, I want to get takeaway from that Thai place you like before heading home."

As they walked out to the car hand-in-hand, Harry's bodyguard Mick greeted them with a nod. "Nice show tonight, H. You too, Y/N."

"Thanks Mick," Harry said easily. He always insisted that Y/N be treated as an equal part of the team by his staff and security. From the moment they got together, he made it clear she wasn't just another fling or hanger-on.

In the calm of their flat later, settled on the couch with cartons of fragrant Thai curry, Y/N felt a swell of love for this man. This generous, humble, wildly talented man who could have anyone he wanted but chose her. Chose to keep choosing her, day after day.

Harry must have sensed her watching him, because he looked up and caught her eye with a quizzical smile. "What're you thinking about over there?"

She shook her head a little. "Just…feeling really lucky, I guess. That of all the girls who fancy you, you picked me."

His eyes softened and he set his food down, reaching over to take her hand. "Y/N, you've got it backwards, love. I'm the lucky one. You're the most amazing person I know."

A lump rose in her throat at his earnest tone. "You can't just…say stuff like that and expect me to keep it together," she protested shakily.

Harry's thumb stroked over her knuckles. "It's true though. You make me want to be better, do more with the chances I've been given. I'm in awe of you every day."

Unable to find the words, Y/N leaned in and kissed him deeply, trying to convey the depths of her feelings. Harry kissed her back with equal fervor, until a wet noodle hit the side of his face with a comical splat sound.

They broke apart, stunned for a beat, until Y/N started giggling helplessly. Soon they were both consumed by laughter, food containers forgotten as they held each other. These were the moments Y/N cherished most - the simple intimacy, the shared joy of being thoroughly themselves with each other.

She couldn't imagine her life without Harry's bright spirit, without his love and support buoying her up. They had been through so much together already - the difficult early days of dating an international superstar, the intense scrutiny and pressure from all sides, the constant travelling and time apart.

Through it all, they had remained committed to choosing each other, fighting for their relationship no matter what curveballs life threw their way.

As their laughter faded off into contented silence, Harry pulled Y/N closer until she was tucked against his side. She let out a happy sigh, feeling utterly at peace.

"You know," Harry murmured after a while. "All those fans shouting for me, acting like I'm some big prize to be won…they don't realize I'm the one who hit the jackpot, getting to be with my best friend."

Not trusting her voice, Y/N simply squeezed him tighter. She knew there would always be people trying to get between them, throwing doubts and obstacles in their path. But she also knew with so much certainty - as long as they had this, had each other, nothing else mattered.

Over the next few months, tour life resumed in earnest. Frantic dashes through airports, screaming crowds, hotel room nights blurring together, every waking moment scheduled to the max. Y/N was grateful she could be by Harry's side through the whirlwind, her familiar presence keeping him grounded and sane.

One night after a show in Los Angeles, they were lounging on the hotel room sofa, Harry's head pillowed in Y/N's lap as she carded her fingers gently through his freshly-shampooed hair that always smelt so fucking good.

"You were amazing tonight, babe," Y/N murmured. "That whole stadium was eating out of the palm of your hand."

Harry hummed contentedly at her praise, his eyes slipping closed. "Felt good up there. Like all the pieces just clicked into place once I saw your face in the crowd."

Y/N's heart squeezed at his words. "You mean that?"

"Of course." He blinked up at her solemnly. "Having you there, it's…it's like coming home, no matter where we are in the world."

Tears pricked at the corners of Y/N's eyes as she leaned down to kiss him tenderly. She loved this man so deeply it terrified her sometimes.

As the kiss deepened, Harry's hands came up to cradle her face, holding her to him almost desperately. Soon they were a tangle of roaming hands and shared breaths, shedding layers of clothing with increasing urgency until they lay skin-to-skin, hot and bothered.

Harry trailed hot, openmouthed kisses down the column of Y/N's throat as she arched beneath him with a breathy moan. "Need you," he rasped against the hollow of her neck. "Need to be with you, feel you…"

"Yes, yes Harry please," she panted, raking her nails down his back.

He shuddered at her touch and surged up to capture her lips again in a searing kiss. Then, with practiced tenderness, he sank into her welcoming heat and they both let out ragged gasps at the intensity of that joined feeling.

Moving together in a rhythm, Harry and Y/N lost themselves in each other, with moans and whimpers exchanged between the two as they chased their highs. This was their oasis, their refuge from the craziness of the world outside - just the two of them, tangled up in each other utterly.

Aftershocks still trembling through them both, Harry gathered Y/N close and pressed his lips to her damp hairline.

"I love you," he murmured thickly. "I love you so bloody much, Y/N."

She tilted her head back to gaze at him with sparkling eyes. "I know. And I love you, Harry. Always."

Smiling softly, he brushed the pad of his thumb over her swollen bottom lip. "Forever my girl?"

"Forever," she promised.

***

tell me if you like this <3

[icyg4l]

PAC: what should you put on your bucket list for the summer?

hello beautiful people! i am starting my summer 2024 series right now and i am so excited!!!! i wanted to bring something new to everyone so i am creating specialized playlists for each group. they consist of six songs i’ve channeled during your reading. i hope that the group you chose resonates. i also hope that you all book a reading with me! :)

without further ado, please select your pile.

top left-to-bottom right: (1-4)

PILE ONE:

this pile may be newly single or fresh to the dating scene as a whole. you seem introverted, maybe covid messed up your social skills? it’s time to bring some life back into you! i think the main message here is to be more open to exploration.

cards used: the tower, 10 of discs, king of swords, the star, queen of wands, the hanged man, princess of cups.

learn how to swim

flirt with a stranger at a festival/concert

ride as many amusement park rides as you can

go on a picnic date

join some type of organization, or maybe even create one!

be as comfortable in your skin as you can; even go skinny dipping or to a new beach (only if you’re of age though!!)

go to a metaphysical shop

go on a group/double date with your friends

PILE TWO:

i feel like you’re insecure and you’re trying to work on that. this is the best summer to do so. i feel like this pile gets easily embarrassed. spirit wants you to stop that lmao. i take it that you’re someone who’s probably a loner.

cards used: 9 of cups, queen of discs, ace of wands, 3 of cups, 8 of swords, 5 of wands

do as much shadow work as you can

take up a self-defense class/boxing class

jump off the diving board

conquer your fear of heights by bungee jumping or rock climbing

hypnosis therapy

wear your natural hair in different styles each day for a week (maybe longer 🙈)

embrace family traditions

spa day!

have/go to a bonfire

scrapbook!

PILE THREE:

these are my r&b loversss. i feel like you guys have some pipes on you lol. this pile is kind of goofy too. this pile has to be as free as possible. no relationships, no commitments of any kind (minus a job cause y’know the economy rn is 😔). but anyway, the point is to just relax.

cards used: 6 of discs, the devil, the magician, 2 of cups, wheel of fortune, the sun, princess of cups.

go to a skate park

host an event

meet a special someone at the bar

connect with an old friend

adopt a pet

create an alter ego for yourself and show up as that person

do a good deed for someone, pay it forward.

have a dance battle in public

obtain a FWB (be smart & use protection of course 🤫)

post on social media as much as possible

PILE FOUR:

i can tell this is the pile that likes to be organized. you like to have plans made out before the summer. that might not be the case this summer. focus on being a little more free and spontaneous. flexibility is key, babe. get out of freezeeeee mode.

cards used: 3 of cups, the hanged man, 5 of wands, queen of wands, king of swords, the star, knight of cups, ace of discs.

dye your hair red!

pass the bar exam (for those of you who are future lawyers)

receive a tarot reading from an in-person psychic

flirt a little at the grocery store

get dressed up to go to a department store/chain store

have a girls night in with ur girls!

build a fort!

change up your day-to-day makeup routine

record a song with your friends

[perfectlyoongi]

BOYFRIEND!JIN who gives you a new stuffed animal on every special date. it was already a tradition that came from when you were friends, but Jin simply couldn't get rid of that habit — not when there were so many different stuffed animals to give, not when he saw you always happy and returning to childhood times that left you feeling safe. “our family is growing! we are great parents. i am so proud of us.”

BOYFRIEND!JIN who insists on dressing up for halloween with you. from choosing your costume, to browsing stores, to trying on and laughing at each other, all the magic of halloween was precious to Jin, just because long days of laughter and planning and going out filled your schedule — it was like a constant cascade of good mood that he liked to see in you. “this year you choose the costumes! but can we please match? just so people can see that we’re together, you know?”

BOYFRIEND!JIN who wakes you up with chaste kisses half an hour before the alarm goes off, just so he can spend those thirty minutes loving you. hugging your body, hiding his face in your neck, Jin's lips released small kisses that covered your skin with infinite promises of eternal love. “good morning. it's still early, don't worry. let's just stay like this a little longer. together. please.”

BOYFRIEND!JIN who sends you selfies whenever he has the opportunity. when he is most beautiful or when he is most tired, when he wants to make you laugh or when he wants to remind you that he loves you, the choices were endless; your cell phone was full of exclusive photos of Jin that, on more complicated days, made you realize that the love between you was too intimate to be fake. “honestly, whenever i remember you and you're not with me, i feel the need to send you a photo. sorry about the amount by the way.”

BOYFRIEND!JIN who turns the music up to the maximum and sings duets with you while the two of you take care of the house. Jin made everything a party, because he knew it was good for your spirit; as such, Jin decided to turn the boring chores at home into something good, something to celebrate, something that would make you forget the tiredness they caused and make you focus only on the joy of the songs and screams. “next week, we’re going to make a set list as if it were a concert! oh! we can wear our matching pajamas! it’s going to be so fun.”

BOYFRIEND!JIN who likes to try new restaurants with you. it was almost like a mission for the two of you to find new restaurants in the cities you visited and lived, gastronomic curiosity being just an addition to moments well spent and memories created. “i think a new restaurant opened down the street. want to try it? if you don’t like it, i promise i’ll buy you a pizza.”

BOYFRIEND!JIN who said he loved you on your birthday before the day even started. the sun still painted your room melancholically when Jin gently woke you up; Jin's hand caressed your face, his lips formed into a smile as he saw you slowly waking up to a breakfast in bed and a confession that had been weighing on Jin's heart for a long time. “happy birthday, nugget. thank you for being in my life. i love you.”