#which means that was almost a whole year ago! :D

[schezo-misadventures]

Where did you get Shubbo?

From Ebay!

[gyusrose]

➵ ridin’ -> l. hs

⚠︎ smut!! (mdni)

✎ unprotected sex, dirty talk, oral (male receiving), degradation & praising, edging, creampie, mild choking, smut with no plot

summary : what the title says :)

wc: 1.4k

you couldn’t stand it. there sat your boyfriend on the couch, manspreading expecting me to walk in like nothing. you saw his recent comeback stage and oh god. the moment to press play your panties felt damp from the way he moved, especially with that cowboy hat, leaving almost nothing to the imagination.

you noticed he came home not too long ago but since you were taking a shower, you haven’t seen him yet. so the view you’re welcomed with made you even hornier if that’s possible. he hasn’t noticed you yet since he was on his phone but you couldn’t help yourself.

you walked over to where he was immediately straddling him.

“oh hey babe h-“ you shut him up by grabbing his chin harshly kissing him. heeseung had barely any time to react, but he was not complaining, at all.

the kiss was sloppy and heated, he could feel you desperation through it.

“someone missed me..” he said between kisses. his hand found their way to your waist. forcing the friction between your pussy and his crotch. you moved your hips wanting to feel more of him. he groaned, feeling himself getting hard.

your hand made its way through his hair pulling it slightly.

“i couldn’t wait to have you like this…” you said unbuttoning half of his shirt.

“ how dare you but on those tight jeans also that cowboy hat and expect me to be okay huh?”

he smirked at your comment. he loved having that power over you, he knew only he could make you feel like that.

“i didn’t do anything? not my fault you got all worked up like that.” he said innocently, still smirking. he knew how you would react.

‘this cocky motherfucker ‘ you thought. you unbuttoned his jeans and undid his zipper. getting on your knees he knew what was about to come, he sat up straight waiting for your next move.

you pulled down his jeans along with his boxers. his cock sprung out hitting his abdomen leaking with pre-cum. heeseung groaned, dying to be touched by you.

you wrapped your hands around him making them look small compared to his size. you slowly started to move your hand up and down. heeseung felt tortured. he bucked his hips trying to get more but you pulled away earning a whine.

“nuh uh, be patient.” you sternly said to which he whined even more.

you moved your hand once again. starting off slowly and gradually going a little faster. his head was laid back moaning with each movement of your hand.

you exchanged your hand with your mouth with no warning. heading hissed at the sensation from your mouth. you took him whole, holding back your gags as he pushed your head in.

heeseung looked down at you, delighted with the sight, he could cum right there. his moans got louder and louder, all that you wanted to hear.

his hips starting thrusting into your mouth, fucking into it. he saw how you didn’t stop him and thrusted faster. your moans sent vibrations to his dick sending him over the edge. before he could cum, you harshly pulled away. your pussy was throbbing by just hearing his moans. you wanted him, no, you needed him right now.

you slid your panties off then got on top of him like when you started.

“fuck i need your cock so bad” you whines while he kissed you mouth . your dominance disappeared from your neediness.

“such a desperate slut, you can’t even handle a couple of days without my cock can’t you?” heeseung said while he grabbed a hold of ass and slapping it, leaving a red hand mark. you moaned, how you loved it when he was mean.

“please hee, i need it, so fucking bad” he was holding your hips still, not allowing you to move.

“since you asked so nicely..” he said before lining up with your core, moving your hips down, sinking down his cock.

you both moaned erotically, as if y’all haven’t fucked in years.

the sole feeling of your walls tightening his dick was enough to drive the two of you crazy.

“holy shit, you’re so fucking tight.” he said as you started riding him. you’re were so desperate that you didn’t even give time to adjust to it and immediately started bouncing hastily. heeseung couldn’t stop looking at you. he was engrossed with the sight in front of him. your eyes were closed and eyebrows furrowed, bring insatiable to the feeling of him inside of you.

heeseung pulled up your shirt revealing your beautiful perky tits. he wasted no time he sucked your sensitive nipple in one while fondling the other one. he sucked your boobs and licked your nipples so damn good, you were a mess. heeseung groaned, he was on the verge of exploding but he held back, wanting to enjoy the most of the moment . his hand suddenly went to your neck choking you slightly. you almost cried out in pleasure. heeseung knew how much you loved it, he watched every second of you face biting his lip. your hand caressed his flexed arm on your neck looking at him. he pulled you in and kissed you hungrily.

“fuck i’m gonna cum.” you said in between moans. you’ve never come this fast in your life.

“nuh uh, hold it in like the whore you are, you begged for my dick and you’re about to come this fast?” he looked into your eyes. payback’s a bitch. tears were threatening to fall. not only were you about to cum but your thighs are also giving out, they’re burning. heeseung noted your struggle and took it upon himself. 

“aw is my little slut tired? you love this dick so much you can’t stop huh?” he groped your ass and smacked it multiple times. you hum in response. heading still wasn’t satisfied.

“tell me what do you want me to do, use your fucking words.” he harshly said.

“ please fuck me..” you weakly said. wasn’t enough still.

“i want you to pound your cock inside of my little pussy baby.”

that was enough to send heeseung crazy. he hugged your hips while he, like you asked, pounded into you with no remorse.

the lewd sounds coming out of the two of you plus the rough skin slapping echoed throughout the apartment. his thrusts were harsh, you had to grab a hold of his broad shoulders for support.

you looked at your two bodies glistening with sweat. you ran one hand through his abs, which flexed with every fuck, it looked straight out of a porno.

“shit shit i need to cum, please baby, please, i need it, i want to cum all over your cock.” you whimpered , heeseung couldn’t hold it anymore, he needed to as well.

“cum, cum all over my cock baby, cum like the good girl you are.” your body tensed up after he said those words. you leaned your head down on his neck as you came all over him.

heeseung followed through, holding you tighter as he groaned with his last thrust, spilling all his load deep inside of you.

you had to take a second. you were both breathing heavily like after a workout, which it kinda was.

you finally got off the crook of his neck looking at him. he smiled then pecked your lips softly. totally different demeanor than a couple of minutes ago.

“don’t ever tease me like that ever again okay?” you said referring to his performance.

he chuckled. “ if it means i’ll be welcomed like this, then i might do it all the time.”

[mixtape-timeout]

Hi Stays, this is a post to warn everyone to be wary of a SKZ author here on Stayblr with the username @/gimmeurtmi

I followed them not too long ago, but they suddenly blocked me. I was confused why because I have my age in my account and followed all of their rules. However, I have some reasons to suspect that this user is a Zionist. As you can see I am very Pro-Palestine, it’s in my blog title and bio, and I think this is why they blocked me.

They made a post showing anger about Stays educating Felix on his live about Coca-Cola (For people who don’t know, Coca-Cola is on the BDS boycott list, they support Israel and built an R&D center in occupied Palestinian territory of Atarot) In their post they said it’s “pathetic” for Stays to inform Felix about this and that he wasn’t doing anything wrong. Felix made the effort to read about the issue on his live and chose to apologize to Stay for it, but this user thinks that boycotting a brand tied to a genocidal state is the same as bullying.

((Screenshots are not mine))

They also showed strong support for the new SKZ collab with Charlie Puth. Many Stays are boycotting this collab because Charlie Puth is a raging Zionist, and the track also has an Israeli producer, Johnny Goldstein who is also a proud Zionist. gimmeurtmi even made a whole tag for this collab on their blog to show how much they’re excited for it, even though two Zionists worked on it and will be receiving royalties for it. You can also see the tags in the third post showing them speaking of Tommy Hilfiger, yet another Zionist, in a friendly manner.

Furthermore, I talked to other Stays in the community about this because I don’t want to jump to conclusions and gimmeurtmi blocked other users who are showing support for Palestine, not just me. From reading their posts on their other blog (@/stuckonspidey) you can also see how far their beliefs about this go. That’s not to say them being Jewish means they must be a Zionist, because that’s a completely false idea. There are plenty of Jewish people who are not Zionist and support Palestinian liberation because we recognize that what Palestinians are suffering through is a history repeat of what our people went through. But this added with all the other questionable evidence makes me suspicious that this user is a Zionist, or at least an Israeli sympathizer who treats support for Palestine as an inconvenience.

From these posts on their main blog, you can see them refuse to condemn Israel or even say anything about their crimes when they got asked about it. Instead, they just talk about how this genocide has personally affected them. There are no posts (that I could find) of them showing any sympathy or support for Palestine, all their posts about the subject are just self-victimizing posts about how they feel. Yes, it’s a scary time to be a Jewish person as well, I know this as a person of Jewish ancestry, too. But fighting anti-semitism AND fighting for Palestine can and SHOULD co-exist. It’s a huge red flag that the only thing they have to say about the genocide is how Jewish people are the victims in this. They also made another post where they claim that “Zionist” is just a word people use to be anti-semitic. This is a tale as old as time that Zionists have used to excuse, deny, and even justify Israel’s war crimes. I was once told that a genocide of Palestinians doesn’t exist and is just an “anti-semitic blood libel”. This is the exact same rhetoric that Zionists in my community and Zionist news outlets use (which, I add, almost ALL news outlets are strongly biased to Israel because of America’s ties to it. Israel is heavily backed in support from some of the richest and most powerful countries in the world, it is not the victim and never was).

I am not making this for drama. I made this post just to tell fellow Stays to be cautious of which writers you’re reading from and supporting. If you are against the genocide that has been happening to Palestinians for 75 years now, I suggest not supporting this person’s work, because at best they don’t care about what’s happening in Palestine, and at worst, they actually endorse it. There should be no place in our Stay community for this hateful ideology.

[midnight-in-town]

About Yor: she isn’t dense, but most likely indoctrinated by Garden

So I wanted to address this for a long while now, because I’ve seen one too many posts talking about Yor like she’s just an aloof assassin who doesn’t care about things outside her direct environment, which is why sometimes she says dense things. 

I’m well aware that she’s a fan favorite so people don’t mean her harm, yet I think the whole story actually hints at way more than her being dense, especially considering her background and who she still works for. 

In other words, since Yor was trained but also half raised by Garden’s leader, the Shopkeeper, it’s likely that, considering how they operate and what they’re about, they instilled in her a conditioned dependency since childhood or teenage years that would make her unable to learn things on her own without asking for their opinion, making it very hard for her to turn against them ever. 

Want a striking example? Her encounter with Melinda Desmond. 

Not only did she not know who Melinda was (but I mean, that at least could be understandable)...

...but she also didn’t know what a First Lady is. 

Sure, it’s funny on first glance, but after thinking about it, what does it betray? That Garden probably made sure over years Yor would never get the slightest basic info and understanding on what politics of this country are all about. Because if their strong soldiers start to get opinions of their own, then they could start disagreeing with Garden and turning on them. So, “let’s prohibit people having free thinking, so that they can remain good little pawns” as we “fight for peace in our country”.

In fact, for Yor, until a short time ago (when she met Loid and Anya), all she did was thought and decided for her by Garden and, to this day, she still voluntarily asks them for their agreement when she opens up her close circle little by little: she asked them if it was okay to marry Loid and then she asked them if it was okay to befriend Melinda. 

To be honest, that’s a scary ass thought process to envision, when Yor’s an independent working lady well into her 20s, but this shows how deep Garden’s indoctrination runs in Yor, since they got hold of her as a child/young teen. 

Another striking example is the way she always describes her job, in an almost childish way. Her nickname “thorn princess” aside, I always found it interesting that Yor’s aware she’s an assassin but she isn’t morally anguished at all about killing people and never mentions or distinguishes any grey area in her missions. In fact...

... it’s all in black and white and she clearly thinks that the people she kills are all evildoers (which as we saw in the recent arc with the Red Circus isn’t always the case and begs the rhetorical question “why does Garden get to decide who’s evil?”), therefore “she’s not doing anything wrong”, which also pretty much betrays how she was pushed into it. 

Long ago, Garden probably baited Yor with Yuri’s protection and told her that, since they’re “about peace”, Yor’s work would just help them to “fight against evil”. As a child, she wasn’t mentally fit to understand the deeper implications and then she was mentally conditioned to always do and think like Garden tells her to, which promotes this systematic childish description of her assassin’s job. 

Finally, please take notice of the Shopkeeper’s reaction the first time she tries to argue about her work, in the ship arc: 

Enough said, Garden’s awful. I’m sure there are more examples throughout the story, but I now want to talk about future character development. 

After all, since the story obviously calls for Yor to ditch Garden, to protect what’s actually important to her (Yuri, Loid and Anya), we actually do see her changing little by little so far, thanks to her living with Loid and Anya. Her coworkers quickly mentioned that she’s more lively ever since she got married and the ship arc overall emphasizes that her family is starting to become more important to her than her job, so there is high hope for Yor. :D

Additionally, while she’s still far away from noticing that Garden mentally drove her into a corner, she now openly voices her concerns that “she’s not normal” but that she wants to understand why in order to learn how to change. 

To be fair, fighting against indoctrination is tough and takes time so I’m very proud of her for slowly realizing that she ought to decide for herself from now on. :D 

TL;DR Yor is not dense. She was indoctrinated as a child by Garden and can only (for now) see the world through the filters they taught her. 

Ironically enough, the only character who knows about her real job and could, thus, notice that Yor isn’t being critical about Garden...... actually can’t because she’s a four year old who is too young to understand that Mama’s job is wrong. Well done, Endo-sensei!

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

No Such Thing As Monsters

Summary: Dean is injured on a hunt and at first glance, appears to be fine. Quickly though, the reader and Sam learn something far more serious is going on...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,200ish

Warnings: language, injury

“Dean,” you said, shaking on his shoulder, his eyes flashing open, fist tightening around his angel blade. “You’re okay. Sam took care of the ghoul. How’re you doing?”

“I feel like I just went through a wall,” he said, shakily getting to his feet, cocking his head at the damaged sheetrock in front of him. “Looks like I did.”

“You sure you okay?” you asked, his head nodding. “Sam’s driving us home, just in case.”

“No arguments from me,” he said, giving Sam a nod when he showed up, following his brother the few blocks over to where you’d parked Baby. Dean grabbed the passenger door, slamming his hand on the roof.

“Dean...” said Sam. Dean scrunched up his face, placing a hand on his head. “Dean.”

“Take me to a hospital,” gritted out Dean, your eyes wide. “Now.”

“What’s wrong?” you said, shoving him in the backseat instead, climbing in beside him as Sam started gunning it for the closest one.

“My head. Something’s wrong. I don’t...just hurry.”

Eight Hours Later

Your excuse of Dean taking a hard fall worked with the doctors but you and Sam were staring at one another after finally getting to see Dean again.

“Let’s talk outside,” said the neurologist, Dean giving you a smile as you followed her out.

“What is wrong with my brother, Sally?” asked Sam the second the door to Dean’s room was shut. 

“Retrograde amnesia as far as I can tell. He remembers certain things like his name, date of birth, address when he was a child. You’re lucky I was on call tonight to take his case. Neuro patients are hard enough, especially one’s that are hunters and have to lie about everything,” she said, crossing her arms.

“Sally, amnesia...isn’t that supposed to fade after a few hours at most?” asked Sam.

“Normally,” she said, taking a deep breath. “My best guess is a combination of lasting amnesia which will be hard to recover from but we can help him...and then he’s repressing all the hunting without realizing. You guys have seen some serious crap I’m sure he’d rather forget.”

“What do you mean repressing?” you asked. 

“I mean, Dean thinks monsters are made up, creatures from stories. He doesn’t know they’re real,” she said. You raised an eyebrow, Sam shaking his head. “He doesn’t remember the ghoul, he doesn’t remember the Vamp you guys took care of for me years ago. Monsters aren’t real to him,” said Sally.

“He’s known monsters were real his whole life,” said Sam.

“Technically, since he was four, almost five,” said Sally. “There was a time when he didn’t think any of this was real so it is possible.”

“You’re telling me Dean thinks he’s five?” you said. “He’s in his thirties.”

“He doesn’t think he’s five. He just doesn’t remember certain things. Like he understands basic long term memories, who his parents are, who Sam is...more recent things he’s blocked out,” she said. “Either by choice or because he really can’t remember.”

“Does he remember me? I only started running with the guys about five years ago,” you said.

“He knows your name and that he loves you but that’s about it. The details are all fuzzy for him. Now Dean’s not exactly what I’d call a normal patient. He’ll get thrown in an institute if he starts remembering here in a hospital and God knows what’ll happen to him in there,” she said.

“What do we do then?” asked Sam, Sally sighing and grabbing a chart from the nurses station.

“He has no bleeding in his head, just a few minor cuts and bruises from his tussle. Take him home, try to get him to remember. Any problems and you guys call me. I’ll get you some materials that help sometimes,” she said.

“What if he doesn’t remember?” said Sam.

“Then he doesn’t. Either way, you need to be there for him. You guys gotta get going. The other neurologist starts his shift in an hour and he’s going to want to look at Dean if he’s still here.”

Dean was quiet on the way home, sitting in the backseat, leaning against the backdoor as he stared out the window. Sam simply went through the motions, making him dinner, sending him to bed after checking his bandages, Dean wearing a confused but happy smile the whole time. 

“Y/N,” said Sam, catching you sipping on a drink the library, stealing the bottle to pour himself some.

“What are we going to do Sam?” you asked. “He’s...”

“Do you remember when I saved you from that fire? You promised you’d do anything I wanted. Anything. I told you maybe someday I’d take you up on it. We both know I was never going to but this...I’m cashing that favor in, Y/N,” he said, taking a long swig.

“Using a spell to get his memories back might be dangerous, Sam,” you said, earning a head shake.

“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about the fact that my big brother thinks the world is normal. The weight of it isn’t on his shoulders anymore. He’s so light and happy. You’re gonna pack up his stuff, pack up your stuff, and you’re going to take him to a little cabin that used to be Bobby’s. It’s not that far out in the boonies so you’ll have electricity and internet and then...you’re gonna help him get a job, get a job yourself and you two are going to get the hell out of this life,” he said.

“Sam that is not-”

“You’re doing this. If something comes after you, you can protect him. Try it for me. If he starts to remember on his own, come back but please, give it a try.”

Two Days Later

“I thought we lived at the bunker place?” asked Dean, sitting down at your new kitchen table, watching you whip up an easy dinner. 

“We live here now,” you said, stirring the pot, taking a deep breath. 

“What do we do now?” he asked with a smile. “Do I go to work?”

“We’ll find you a new job,” you said, Dean pursing his lips. “What is it Dean?”

“You’re not happy,” he said. “I want to fix it but I don’t remember how to do that.”

“We both have to get used to this new life,” you said, giving him a nod. “We will. I don’t want you to worry about me, Dean.”

“I love you though. Of course I worry about you,” he said with a smirk.

“You don’t even remember my birthday,” you said with a smile.

“I guess I get to learn everything I love about you all over again then,” he said. “I do know I love you. I definitely remember that.”

“I love you too Dean. Every version of you. We’ll get through this too.”

[bellatriestowritesometimes]

To Know

aaron hotchner x reader

Summary: You attend your best friend's wedding where you see Hotch for the first time in four years since you were shot on your wedding day by Peter Lewis, forcing him to go into witness protection and leave you.

Part 2

AN/explanation:

Listen it’s been a minute since I’ve written anything and by minute I mean 4 years so bear with me!! There’s probably spelling and punctuation errors but I wrote this in the middle of the night so cut me some slack.

OK so a bit of an explanation on this.. so you know how everyone has their imaginary scenarios they make up before bed or wherever (and if you don’t you’re weird!) well this is mine!! OK not really but ever since I watched CM which was probably about 5/6 years ago now, Hotch was on my mind 24/7 and I have this plot in my head with YEARS worth of scenarios thought out with original characters and everything!! This is just a small snippet of the whole plot I have had thought out for Hotch and Alex (that is what I have named her in my head, but have obviously written it as a Y/N to make it more enjoyable I guess? Idk what people prefer!!). I could probably write a book on this crap but I’ll just start with this part. I am in the process of writing a part two to this so if anyone’s interested I’ll try to get it out before the weekend’s over as this is the only free time I have currently! Now if I ever was going to make this into a series (that’s a very big if) this would be a chapter towards the end of this plot that I have created. Anyways enough rambling…

I am an angst over any other kind of genre girly so that’s all this will be :D this seemed better in my head and it ALWAYS does but I just wanted to get it out of my system.

Hope u enjoy xx

Warnings: smut (a little not too much), cheating.

Word count: 3.9k

It was your best friend’s wedding and you couldn’t have been happier. Henry was your rock and pretty much the only family you ever had. He had been with you through everything, all the highs and lows, so he deserved today to be absolutely perfect.

You were helping Luca with his tie and giving him a final check over before he went out to marry your best friend. Luca knew how important you were to Henry and how important Henry was to you. The three of you were practically a throuple. OK maybe not a throuple but anyone who was important to Henry became important to you. They had been together for almost 5 years but knew each other for even longer. 

“He’s here you know...” Luca said “Henry invited everyone from the BAU..”

You raised an eyebrow at Luca whilst finishing up with his tie.

“I know,” you replied simply.

Henry was the one who got you a job at the BAU. He knew almost everyone and if he didn’t, he knew someone who did. He had helped out with several cases and knew everyone at the BAU well, so of course they all got an invite to his wedding which was in London. Henry knew your history with Hotch and that meant so did Luca.

“He has them all staying at the Ritz you know, booked a suite out for everyone,’’ Luca rambled.

“I know,” you repeated and rolled your eyes.

Of course he has you thought to yourself, money was never an issue for him. Not that it was for you either but you were slightly more modest than him.

Luca could sense that he wasn’t going to get anything else out of you so he decided to change the topic.

“You think we’re doing the right thing?” He asked referring to him and Henry.

“Absolutely,” you confirmed “he needs you Luca, I don’t even want to imagine what he would be like without you. It’s not something I’m prepared to take on” you let out a laugh. “You two have practically been married for the last 5 years, now it’s just time to make it official!” You gave his arms a squeeze.

“I’ll see you out there, no backing out now,” you gave him a wink and Luca gave you a nod with a smile.

You took that as your cue to leave and made your way towards the alter and towards Henry. As you made your way up to the front you saw all of the guests take their seats. You spotted JJ, Will and her boys a few rows from the front, who were staying at your place for the next few days. Emily, Spencer and Garcia were seated a few rows behind them and you spotted Morgan and Savannah seated on the other side of the room. You were trying to find Rossi and Krystall until your eyes landed on someone else. There he was sitting right next to Rossi with a brunette next to him which you assumed was Beth.

“How is he?” Henry’s voice snapped you back to reality.

“Huh?” Was the only thing that came out of your mouth as you slowly dragged your eyes away from the man that left you on pretty much your death bed and then divorced you.

“Luca – how is he? He’s not making a run for it is he?” Henry laughed but behind the laugh he needed the reassurance. He hadn’t been the perfect fiancé and has put Luca through the wringer at times, but there’s no one else for Henry other than Luca and vice versa.

“Stop being stupid!” You swatted him gently, “Of course not! I stopped him just before he got to the fire exit,” you replied playfully.

“Ha ha very funny,” Henry replied dryly, “And how are you? …You know with him being here.. You did say it was okay for me to invite him but I can send him home if you want. Just tell me and I’ll have him escorted out by security-”

“Please stop, it’s fine. Honestly I mean it. We’ve both moved on. I’m with Avery now and he’s with Beth,” you answered. “Besides today is not about me or my woes, it’s about you!”

-

The wedding ceremony was beautiful and it was now time for the reception. You made your way round to all the tables saying hello to the people you recognised until you reached the table you dreaded the most. Thankfully your husband Avery caught up with you to let you know that it was time to make your way to your seat as it was almost time for your speech.

You gave Rossi a smile in the distance before walking back to your seat, avoiding contact with Hotch for now who was sat right next to him.

-

After the speeches were done and the drinks began floating around the room, everyone felt a lot more relaxed. You were listening to the conversation Emily and Avery were having about a book they both had read, until you felt someone tap your shoulder.

“Hi you must be Y/N! I’m Beth, Aaron has told me so much about you!” Beth exclaimed as you turned around to face her.

“Yes hi! It’s lovely to meet you, I’m sorry I couldn’t introduce myself earlier,” you gave her a smile.

It was a genuine smile, she seemed nice and in any other situation you could even be friends. She is not to blame for what had happened between you and Hotch, however you did wonder what kind of things he has told her about you.

“It’s okay don’t worry about it! I understand how stressful weddings are,” she continued and for a second you thought if she had married Hotch without anyone telling you. Your eyes flicked towards her left hand that was wrapped around a champagne flute. No sign of a ring. You cursed yourself for still caring enough to check.

“That’s a beautiful ring” she said bringing you out of your trance.

You followed her gaze which was now on your own left hand. You hadn’t realised that you were twisting your own wedding ring with your thumb, reminiscing about how it felt when you had the ring on that Hotch gave you. It was a lot smaller than the one you have now. It had an oval diamond in the centre with three green sapphire leaves holding the diamond in place on each side. It was a delicate ring and you loved everything about it. Everything but the dreaded memories that came along with it. The ring was now replaced with a big teardrop diamond from Harry Winston and it was beautiful. It sparkled even in the dark and felt almost heavy on your finger. You had to admit that Avery had great taste, the two of you had now been married for almost 2 years.

“Thank you..” you smiled and let a breath out you didn’t know you were holding.

“Uhm this is Avery my husband-” you cleared your throat, almost forgetting to introduce him to her.

They shared a few polite words until Beth excused herself. You assumed she had gone to find Hotch as she disappeared into the crowd.

“She seems nice,” Avery said and gave you a small smile. He knew what had happened with you and Hotch and he wasn’t his biggest fan but he was never the one to bad mouth him.

“Yeah she does…” you replied quietly whilst your mind drifted off elsewhere. Emily sensed that you were uncomfortable and resumed her conversation with Avery in an attempt to take his attention off you.

-

It was several hours into the reception and you had stepped outside with Luca and lit a cigarette for you both to share.

You had noticed Beth was in the distance on the phone but Hotch was nowhere to be seen.

“Today has been beautiful,” you hummed as you took a pull of the cigarette and passed it to Luca.

“It really has been, thank you for helping Henry with the planning,” he expressed.

You both conversed about the wedding and your favourite parts until someone had interrupted you.

“Oh sorry,” your eyes followed his voice, “I thought Beth was out here,” he explained as he looked between you and Luca.

“She is,” you pointed with the cigarette between your fingers “she’s just gone into the gazeebo over there to take a call I think,” you replied.

“Thank you,” he looked into your eyes longer than he should have before he began walking her way.

“Is this the first time you’ve spoken to him tonight?” Luca asked whilst following your gaze that was still on Hotch.

“Yup.”

“There’s an explanation. I am sure he has an explanation,” Luca tried standing up for the man he barely knew.

You didn’t respond and instead focused your gaze on something else.

“You know… and I really shouldn’t be saying this but... I think Henry might’ve had something to do with it,” Luca continued.

“What makes you say that? Has he told you something?” You questioned focusing your attention back on Luca.

“Nope. He doesn’t tell me anything when it’s to do with work and I thank him for it. But it wouldn’t surprise me if he did. He would do anything to keep you safe. Even if it meant putting your newly husband into witness protection…”

You thought about it for a minute or so and yes maybe Henry was the one who suggested going into witness protection but that still doesn’t explain the radio silence from Hotch even after Peter Lewis was caught.

“I want you to have what me and Henry have,” Luca brought you out of your thoughts once again.

“I have that. With Avery, he makes me happy,” you replied not knowing if it’s the full truth. Avery does make you happy and you love him but you’re not sure if it compares to what you and Hotch had and it seems like Luca doesn’t either.

“Let’s get back in there shall we? I’m sure Henry is looking for you!” You perked up, trying to change a conversation that was becoming too heavy for your liking. 

-

Since you were one of the few people who didn’t drink at the wedding, you decided to give Emily, Spencer, and Garcia a lift back to the hotel whilst Avery, JJ, Will, and the boys got an Uber home back to your place.

The car ride back to the hotel turned into an episode of carpool karaoke with Emily blasting any and every song that came on the radio.

Once you pulled up to the hotel you helped Emily out of the car and then let Spencer take over. You were about to shut the passenger door when you noticed a phone on the seat Emily was sat in.

“You left your phone Beyonce!” You called out to Emily as she was finishing her 3rd run of single ladies from the start.

You caught up with her and placed the phone in her hand, she took one look at it and blurted out that it’s Beth’s and that she had found it by some gazebo outside.

You pressed the lock button on the side and the phone lit up revealing a picture of Hotch and Beth set as the lock screen.

“What room is she in do you know?” You asked Emily but she just shrugged her shoulders and carried on signing. Spencer and Penelope both gave you a shrug signalling that they didn’t know either.

“Right I will just leave it with reception. The three of you get some sleep ok, we have brunch tomorrow!” You shouted even though the three of them were already inside the hotel queuing up for the elevator.

You pressed the lock button once again making the phone light up just to stare at the lock screen once more. With a sigh you then began to make your way into the hotel and walked towards reception.

“Hello Miss can I help you with anything?” The lady asked.

“Uh yes actually, I’m trying to return a lost phone to a friend of mine but I don’t remember the room number. Could you please let me know? It should be a suite under the name Hotchner, they’re here for a wedding,” you smiled hoping she’d give you the information you needed.

She typed away on her keyboard for a few seconds before replying to your question.

“I have an Aaron Hotchner on the system along with a Beth Clemmons sharing suite 107?”

“Yes that’s the one! Thank you so much!” You thanked the lady and made your way to the elevator. Emily and the others were long gone, probably passed out in their beds by now you hoped.

-

You tapped softly on the door waiting for someone to open it and hoping that it wasn’t Beth. You weren’t even sure what you were doing, what you were going to say, what if Beth’s awake, what would happen then?

You had no excuse and no business to be knocking on his hotel door. Well aside from the fact that he left you on your wedding night right after you got shot, had someone serve you with divorce papers as soon as you came out of your coma and you still haven’t had an explanation even though it’s been close to 4 years.

After a few moments the door was gently pulled open and there he stood. Still in his shirt and trousers from the wedding. He looked taken back seeing you stand there in the hallway. Although you were the only one on his mind tonight, you still had caught him off guard.

“Hi…” Was all that he managed to say.

“Hi…” you breathed out. “..Beth left her phone at the wedding reception,” you said holding it up as proof.

You looked behind him and could see 3 mini whisky bottles that were now empty, lined up on the coffee table. On the left you could see two large double doors that were shut behind the sofa. You had assumed that’s where Beth was sleeping as there was no sign of her anywhere else.

“Oh… Well thank you for bringing it here, you didn’t have to go out of your way...”

“It’s okay I was dropping Emily and the others off anyway,” you replied whilst handing him the phone.

As he took the phone from you he moved slightly to the side, almost inviting you in before actually saying it.

“Would you like to come in?” he paused for a moment, “…please come in” he pleaded. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you the whole night I just didn’t want to disturb you. Beth’s asleep so you don’t have to worry about her or we could take a walk somewhere,” he went on; desperation clear in his voice.

Instead of replying you walked past him making your way into his room, a completely different side of you taking over.

You made your away towards the sofa, never sitting down just standing in front of it. You turned to face Hotch who closed the door and walked towards you, stopping just a few inches away. You could tell he had been drinking. You had obviously seen him drink at the wedding but he left several hours ago yet here he was emptying the mini fridge in his hotel suite.

You eyed the bottles on the coffee table.

“Rough night?’ You asked but it sounded more like a statement. When you looked back at him his mouth was slightly open, almost as if he was thinking of what to say but no words were coming out.

You tilted your head to the side as you took in his features. He looked different. Good but different.  After all these years had passed, you never knew when you would be able to get a good look at him again, and god how much you’d missed his handsome face. The last memory you had of it was when you collapsed in his arms after being shot during your first dance as Mr and Mrs. You don’t remember much after that, just faint shouting in the distance as your vision went blurry until you eventually passed out in his arms.

“I- um I don’t know what to say Y/N… I don’t even know where to begin,” he expressed. Concern, pain and regret all clear in his voice.

Before he could continue you lifted your hand up in an attempt to stop him from saying anything else. That’s not what you came here for.

“I am so sorry,” he breathed out but you took a step closer to him and placed one of your fingers on his lips to silence him.

“Shh,” you whispered whilst you ran your other hand slowly down his chest stopping at the belt of his trousers. You could feel his pulse quicken as he took in what you were doing.

Never breaking eye contact you began to gently move your hand lower until you reached his crotch. You then began to palm him with a bit more force, feeling him harden underneath your touch. A slight smirk played on your lips as you realised how much of an affect you still had on him, how much his body still responded to you. You believed that you were the only one that could get him this flustered, to get him to cheat on his girlfriend, to get him this hot and bothered over practically nothing.

“Take off your trousers...” you hissed.

The concern and regret was now replaced with confusion and curiosity but he did as he was told and began to undo his belt. You watched him carefully as he dropped his trousers to the floor stopping at his boxers.

“You can leave those on, this won’t take long,” you instructed coldly and pushed him onto the sofa. As he sat down he reached over to switch a small table lamp off, leaving a soft glow on your silhouette that was coming from a floor lamp on the other side of the room.

You lifted your dress and rolled it up stopping at your waist whilst you straddled Hotch. The familiar feeling of his dick beneath you was enough to send you over the edge.

You lifted yourself up slightly using your knees and grabbed him through his boxers, silently thanking him for wearing a pair with the slit. He watched your every move and took in a sharp breath when your hand made contact with him and took another when you gently lowered yourself onto his dick.

You began rocking your hips, savouring every single second. You started to pick the pace up and you felt Hotch move in to kiss you to which you gently pushed his head back with your hand, not wanting any other intimacy other than the feeling of him inside you and maybe you inside of him.

You took two of your fingers and placed them on his lips again, this time using them to part his mouth. You gently slipped them inside and he welcomed it. You decided to push them in deeper. Not deep enough to hurt him but deep enough to your liking. Your fingers felt cold against his tongue.

At that point you knew you were close and so was he, your fingers in his mouth helped him to stifle his moans, whilst you watched him intently. After a few moments you felt him twitch beneath you as he threw his head back when he came and you shortly followed.

You removed your fingers from his mouth and gently stood up lowering your dress back down giving the man you still loved one last look before turning around to leave. Just before you got the door you stopped and turned around, he was now up grabbing his trousers off the floor.

“You left me… I was in a coma Hotch and when I came out of it you weren’t there. You left me Aaron.”

Without giving him a second to respond you left and closed the door behind you.

-

As you stepped into the elevator a thousand thoughts were racing in your head. You began to question yourself on why you had come here in the first place, but you knew exactly why. You wanted to see if you still had that control over him, you wanted to see if you could still have him, if he still belonged to you. And he did. You thought about how your relationship had evolved from being just co-workers to friends from friends to lovers and from lovers to strangers. That’s what it felt like being in that room with him. Just two strangers having sex. That was probably the first time the two of you had sex instead of making love. There was a difference between the two and you knew which one you preferred.

Deep down you knew why he had to leave and most importantly leave without you, but it still didn’t make it any less painful. You had thought back to what Lucas said earlier when you were outside, that Henry might’ve had something to do with it... But the truth is whether he did or didn’t it wouldn’t have changed the outcome. He needed to leave, to hide and go into witness protection. Not only for his and Jacks safety but for yours too. It all made sense. Peter Lewis couldn’t hold you over him anymore if you had no connection to him so he left. He left without you and then had you served with divorce papers.

The elevator doors opened and snapped you back to reality. You shook your head in an attempt to get rid of the thoughts. You didn’t want to go back there, you had tried your hardest to move past that part of your life and dwelling about the details and the what if’s is something you didn’t want to do anymore. You had wasted enough time doing that and you’ve moved on since then and so has Hotch. But sometimes late at night when you can’t sleep, those thoughts creep back in and they have a way of suffocating you.

“Did you manage to return your friends phone?” The lady behind the reception desk asked with a smile.

“Yes I did, thank you so much for your help again!” You replied and returned the smile.

You made your way to the parking lot and got into your car and made your way home… To your husband…. Who you had just cheated on with your ex-husband. You pulled out of the parking lot and let the memories from earlier fill your mind. You had glanced briefly at your watch and the time told you that is was quarter past three. You groaned at the thought of having to be up before 11 am later that day for a brunch that Henry and Luca had organised with a smaller amount of guests, which included the BAU team.

You had wondered if he’ll be there with Beth or if he won’t show.

To be continued....

Part 2

[glorious-sunset]

Character Names in LBFAD – Meaning and Significance

What’s in a name? For the characters of LBFAD (Love Between Fairy and Devil), a whole lot of hidden meanings! These are not apparent to English viewers. Here are my translations and interpretations of these meanings.

DongFang Qing Cang - 东方青苍: “East, Cyan, Dark blue”

The surname “DongFang” means East, the direction of the rising sun. Both Dongfang Qingcang’s (DFQC) personal terrace at Silent Moon Palace and the replica Arbiter Hall he built for Xiao Lanhua (XLH) face East, and capture the most beautiful sunrises. DFQC (and previous generations of DongFangs) are well-respected by their people and enjoy the best locations and residences in Cangyan Sea.

The “Cang” in DFQC was named for his realm, “Cang” Yan Sea, as he was expected to be its leader and follow the path set for him by his father, and Lady Yan before him. Lady Yan chose to rid herself of emotions in order to wield Hellfire, and DFQC’s father forced the same decision onto him. The hanzi (mandarin character) for “Cang” in DFQC and Cangyan Sea means dark blue, and the darkness of this colour represents the darkness of the path he was expected to follow.

But “Cang” is not the only colour in DFQC’s name! The “Qing” in his name means lighter shades of blue/green, or cyan. And despite his prescribed mission to emotionlessly conquer the three realms, DFQC has many lighter, more peaceful shades to his character that reveal themselves as the series progresses. He forms a friendship and brotherhood with his enemy Changheng, who shares with him a love of playing music, art and cuju! And he rises above the cruel dictator of Shuiyuntian who almost annihilated his people, by sending his people to aid Shuiyuntian.

(The aurora borealis in Cangyan Sea is also cyan and dark blue :D DFQC might have been named for this as well as for Cangyan Sea!)

Xiao Lan Hua - 小兰花: “Little Orchid Flower”

We are first introduced to our female lead as “Xiao Lanhua”, which is not a name, but a description of what she believes her true form to be, a little orchid flower. But this was a disguise given to her by her parents and upheld by Siming. Her real name is Xiyun.

Xi Yun - 息芸: “Every breath”

The character for “Xi” in XLH’s true name is the same as the “Xi” in her realm, “Xishan”, and means breath (of life). Just like DFQC, she is named for her realm, as she was the intended leader of Xishan as its Goddess. The Xilan tribe of Xishan had powerful healing magics, and hers is the most powerful of all, with the ability to resurrect the dead with her blood, thus providing the breath of life. She uses this to great effect, resurrecting DFQC in ep. 26, everyone who died on the battlefield in ep. 31, and freeing the 100,000 sealed soldiers of the Moon Tribe.

The “Yun” in her name meaning every, combined with “Xi” can be interpreted as “every breath”. Sadly, XLH’s every breath is for one purpose and brings her closer to her one destiny. She is fated to sacrifice herself to save the three realms from Taisui. If this had happened, then like Lady Chidi before her, her sacrifice would soon have been forgotten.

Chi Di - 赤地: “Red/Barren Earth”

The “Chi” in Lady Chidi’s name means red, and paired with “Di” meaning earth, can also mean barren earth. She is the only official in Shuiyuntian seen wearing Red, as even the current God of War, Changheng, conforms to the same white and pale blue robes that other officials wear. Chidi is therefore a standout who asserts her individuality and does not conform to expectations. Her way of thinking outside the box, led to DFQC and his 100,000 Moon Tribe soldiers being completely blindsided by her sacrifice 30,000 years ago. It also led to her breaking heaven’s laws to resurrect Ronghao, to her later detriment.

Chidi wields powerful earth magics, as represented by her name. These are so powerful that she is able to seal the 100,000 soldiers of the Moon Tribe within the barren earth of Xuanxu realm. Her mighty Shuofeng sword is also swallowed by the barren earth and her magic cannot be reversed without her primordial spirit.

Xun Feng - 巽风: “Obedient wind”

The “Xun” in Xunfeng means to obey, and the “Feng” means wind. His name can be interpreted as either “obedient to the wind” or an “obedient wind”. Like the wind, Xunfeng lacks substance, confidence and ability, and is disrespected by his people during DFQC’s imprisonment. Many contenders try to steal his position as Moon Supreme, and he almost dies on the Wind Plain until DFQC arrives to save him.

But Xunfeng cares fiercely for his people. In his attempt to protect them, he collaborates with Ronghao without knowing his identity or motivations. He is thus “obedient to the wind” where Ronghao is an unknown and unseen entity, like the wind. Xunfeng is unable to discern that Ronghao is keeping Cangyan Sea in a constant state of civil unrest and tormenting the souls of deceased Moon Tribe members until much later, with DFQC’s help!

Shang Que - 觞阙: “Watchtower”

“Que” meaning watchtower is an apt description for DFQC’s lieutenant and right-hand man. Shangque has many talents suiting him to this role! These include his ability to be stealthy, gather information discreetly, undertake covert missions successfully, act as a powerful defensive force, and a healing one due to his skill with Chinese medicine. Like a watchtower, he kept watch for 30,000 years during DFQC’s absence on all events occurring within the three realms. His loyalty and love for DFQC, whom he views as a brother and whose return he awaited for 30,000 years, are astounding!

 “Shang” paired with “Que” can mean lacking sustenance. This is the state Shangque was in when orphaned as a young boy, and many tried to take advantage of him and his dragon body. If not for DFQC saving him, he would likely have perished from hunger or been murdered :(

Jie Li - 结黎: “Dark knot”

Jieli suffers from much internal torment which is like a dark knot inside her. From the moment she was born, she never knew or received love, and was raised by people who continually exploited her, physically harming her and threatening her life. That she is even capable of loving and caring for others is a miracle! Unlike Shangque, nobody like DFQC ever stepped in to save her and care for her.

Jieli cares deeply for both XLH and Shangque. Her life under threat, she makes some bad choices such as spilling a drop of Chidi’s blood onto the Bone Orchid. This is one of many dark and knotty situations she encounters. Although she soon decides she would rather die than hurt XLH, Dieyi poisons Shangque to force her obedience.

Yun Zhong - 云中: “Among the clouds”

Yunzhong literally lives among the clouds, but his head is also in the clouds. He is very narrow-minded and cannot think outside the box. When XLH does not fit within the eight-class system of Shuiyuntian, he immediately decides she is Moon Tribe (even before the Bone Orchid protects her) without considering other possibilities. He is so strict with Changheng that he would rather execute the most powerful asset to Shuiyuntian (and his brother!!) than tolerate the slightest disobedience! Throughout the series, he is intent on exterminating the Moon Tribe and almost does in ep. 31 on completely false pretences.

Chang Heng - 长珩: “Steadfast bird”

Like the golden bird brooches that the celestials wear to represent their tribe, Changheng is a model citizen of Shuiyuntian. He is steadfast and loyal to his duties and puts these above his personal desires. When trying to rescue XLH from Cangyan Sea in ep. 13, he is honest with her that he cannot break the rules of Shuiyuntian, and only hopes that Yunzhong will be reasonable and lenient towards her! Changheng is far more steadfast and loyal than the average celestial. He is the only one apart from Ronghao to visit Chidi’s grave on her death anniversary, honours his brotherhood with DFQC after returning to the immortal world, and after learning Ronghao’s secret identity, listens to his side of the story.

Dan Yin - 丹音: “Crimson tidings”

Twice, Danyin is the bearer of important news, relaying her visions from the Tianji mirror to the sacrifice of her own desires. First, she tells a wounded and imprisoned Changheng about his wedding to XLH in the mortal realm, causing him to start a mortal tribulation. Then, she tells Yunzhong and the High Council about XLH’s true identity as the Goddess, saving Changheng from execution and leading to his wedding with XLH.

Rong Hao - 容昊: “Vastly compromising”

Ronghao has “one tiny earthly desire”, that his beloved master can live. What he is prepared to do to achieve this includes burning the souls of dead celestials and Moon tribe, massacring the entire Xilan population including their women and children, forcing his master to endure 30,000 years of cruel mortal tribulations and using evil qi to keep her alive. His willingness to vastly compromise both himself and her leaves Lady Chidi aghast.

Die Yi - 蝶衣: “Butterfly costume”

Dieyi is a shape-shifter and the different forms she takes, butterfly or woman, are her costumes, which help her to be sneaky and nefarious.

Xie Wanqing - 谢惋卿: “Withering sigh”

Having forgotten her life as Lady Chidi, Xie Wanqing feels incomplete without knowing why, expressed by her sad sighs. Chidi is forced to endure countless mortal tribulations just like this one and die (wither) repeatedly. In each of these lives she is condemned to be murdered by the one she loves!

Xiao Run - 萧润: “Mournful wealth”

Both Xiao Run and his true self as Changheng come from positions of wealth and noble status. But both of them mourn the loss of freedom that comes from this – although Xiao Run is more of a carefree rebel! :D

Si Ming - 司命: “Arbiter of fate”

Using the power of her position as Arbiter of Fate, Siming has repeatedly defied heaven’s laws and changed fate! She resurrects Ronghao as an immortal, creating a new destiny leaf for him. She released the convicted dragon Chang Yuan and married him. And she instructs DFQC on how to also defy nature’s laws and change destiny! :D

Chang Yuan - 长渊 “Steadfast abyss”

He is the deep abyss that Siming falls into, as in choosing him, she accepts the fate of being imprisoned with him in the Ruins of Myriad Heavens for the rest of eternity. But at least he is steadfastly loyal to her.

Tai Sui - 太岁: “Very Ancient”

This most ancient of tricksters could not be defeated by numerous generations of Goddesses, who merely sealed him beneath Xishan. Over his very long life spanning hundreds of millenia, he has learned to tell whatever lies are needed to manipulate others and ensure his survival.

Here is a link to my article: Location Names in LBFAD – Meaning and Significance

All of my LBFAD articles can be viewed with the tag #lbfad reflections (hyperlinked) and the table of contents to these is here.

[confessedlyfannish]

Six Years Ago

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Fortunately for them, the kid isn't good at subtlety. When he appears it is usually with a delayed boom announcing his arrival, like a crack of thunder to his lightning. And a hood pulled low over someone's face doesn't mean much when there's only one preteen in the world who can blow a fire out with his bare breath while floating in midair.

Unfortunately for them the kid is fast, see aforementioned "sonic boom". That is not to say Danny could not follow him anyway, but after the eighth time he heads to one of the kid's rescues and he flees before Danny can get a word out, Ellie is sitting at his kitchen counter heating up his leftovers.

"You need to cool it," she says, using her fang to pop open a sapporo. "He doesn't want to be found right now."

"Yeah, I got that." Danny says, swiping the beer out of the hands of what is technically a fourteen year old. She shoots him a scowl as the microwave dings.

"He's a child, and he's sick, Ellie." Even if Frostbite hadn't said as much, it hasn't escaped Danny's notice that in the past two months his speed has ever so slightly slowed. A particularly brave emergency worker had scolded Phantom for scaring him off this time around, concerned about his thin wrists.

"Gee, a sick child runaway, I wonder who that reminds me of," she says, tapping at her chin. She douses the chicken lo mein in sriracha.

"That's different. You knew to come find me, when it got bad. This kid is afraid of me." And he was. Whenever he and Danny met eyes the kid would go pale(r) with fear before zipping away.

"So make him less afraid."

Danny gapes at her. "Gee," he says slowly, a mimicry of her earlier sarcasm. "Why didn't I think of that."

"You're literally stalking the kid right now, you think I don't know about Tucker's alert system? Right now you must seem like the boss monster that shows up at the end of the level," Ellie says. "You need to approach this differently. Go slow, the way you did with me." She pauses, mouth twisting in a way that signals she's about to be reluctantly vulnerable with him.

"I didn't know what it was like to be...cared about. Properly. Before you guys. Even with the memories," she taps her head with the chopsticks, "It didn't click. But you showed me you would be there for me, even as you respected that I needed my space. You taught me how to trust you."

Danny takes a lengthy pull from the bottle he's still holding. "I can't be patient with him, Ellie," he says. He fiddles with the edge of the peeling label. "He's going to get worse."

"Yeah." Ellie says. "And I think you should let him."

---

The first time the backpack appears, Jon takes one look at the post-it with the scribbled stylized D and ":)" on it and tosses the whole thing in the trash before taking off.

He does the same the next four times, even as the backpack gets bulkier, its contents crashing together as it hits the nearest available dumpster.

He's in New York City after he saves a window washer from falling twenty stories when he sees his face plastered on a Times Square billboard. A hotdog stand owner in New York City offers him one on the house which he reluctantly accepts, trying to ignore the man's searching gaze.

He's not an idiot. He knows he's starting to look like crap, if the way the people react when they see him means anything. It's not like he smells, he regularly bathes in clean streams and lakes, but even when he eats coconuts and mangos and wild raspberries until his stomach is bursting and he has spent the last five minutes petting a giraffe on the head, feeling so giddy he almost forgets how his family is gone—he feels...strange. Weaker. The cuts on his side and face from the evil robot with the green eyes have slowly scarred pink, and they still pull and sting if he stretches. Jon's never had a scar before, and now he has six. And he's losing weight.

A lot of the people he meets have been super nice about it, offering him food and, in a particularly cold area of Alaska, a zip up hoodie he now wears over his recognizable family crest. Not that doing so has stopped the white-haired guy from finding him. But it has allowed Jon to move around more freely when he isn't out rescuing people. He even made some cash in Wisconsin cleaning up a grocery store before the night shift manager had recognized his face.

This and the billboard means he stops to buy a pair of cheap glasses and a large t-shirt with the NYC skyline and shorts on it from a tourist shop. After, he takes a bus to New Jersey with the last of his money and changes in the bathroom. He bites back a sniffle when he peels his superhero costume from his body. He's suddenly overcome, poking a finger through the slashes in the side, and spends the rest of the trip with his head buried in his knees, trying to keep his hiccups quiet.

When he exits, he heads to the library he's already visited three times before. It's bad, to develop a routine like this when he is actively being hunted, but he can't help himself any more than he can help the way he sometimes sleeps in that barn in Kansas, the few times he feels like he can actually rest, surrounded by the familiar smell of animal and hay.

As he searches a few more terms that predictably turn up nothing on the public computer, he notes bitterly it's not like the man can't find him anyway. Just because he's backed off doesn't mean he isn't around, silently threatening Jon with randomly appearing backpacks. Each backpack is different too, as if Jon might be taking issue with the color purple rather than the scary guy providing them.

Jon pushes away from desk, waiting for the inevitable wave of despair that hits him after each Google session proves fruitless. He's even, in one moment of lunacy, searched Talia Al Ghul, thinking if anyone can find him after his search pings her servers it's her—

But she never did come.

No one has.

Except for him.

The wave today is muted, lapping at his ankles rather than bowling him over, and somehow the resignation that accompanies it hurts more. He wants to do something, anything, and so he scoots back to the cubicle and types in white haired flying man, d symbol.

This is the first time he learns about Phantom.

---

The boy has started taking the backpacks.

Each one is filled with fresh meals in glass tupperware, meant to last for a while even without refrigeration (though with the boy's ice breath, maybe it's not a problem), as well as ziploc baggies filled with pretzels and carrots and goldfish and celery sticks.

("no peanut butter, he might have a nut allergy!"

"Wouldn't that have come up in Frostbite's scan?"

"You think Frostbite would've thought amidst scanning a little boy's half-alien body to check for a peanut allergy?"

"...Fair enough")

Alongside the meals are cash in the form of U.S. dollars, pounds, euros, yen, yuan, and an extreme hail mary in the form of an ATM card that Ellie rolls her eyes at every time Danny packs it.

There is also a miniature first aid kit, sans medicine but including ice and heat packs you can shake to activate. Danny wedges folded clothing in the spare edges of the bag, a blanket, and forces the zipper closed over a pair of high top sneakers similar to the ragged ones the boy wears. He tops every one with the same post-it drawing of his symbol, and a smiley face.

The boy is still weakening, beginning to look like a strong wind could blow him over even as he zips through mudslides in Colombia and scoops a father and son out of a rip current in Italy, but as he accepts the backpacks Danny listens to Ellie and waits.

And then one day Danny is watching him push a bus away from the edge of a sinkhole in Mexico, school kids pressed against the rear windshield watching him, and Danny hears the creaking of his bone right before the kid's arm snaps.

"Okay, fuck this," Danny says into the Fenton comms as the child wails, swooping down to grab the boy with one arm and the bus with the other.

The boy is too stunned to react, sobbing with pain as he cradles his arm protectively, and Danny shamelessly takes advantage of that as he gently but hurriedly places the bus beside the crowd of spectators.

A very small woman who immediately beelined for him as he landed smacks him in the shoulder, hissing at him in Spanish while several people try to hold her back. She smacks him again.

"I'm trying to help him. I promise. Ayuda." Danny says, shifting the boy into a more comfortable bridal carry.

"Ayuda? Help? You, you bad! El pobre niño." The woman sneers. "Bad! ¡Mal Fantasma! ¡Eres un padre horrible!"

Danny knows what padre means, and even if he didn't, he's heard the rumors and conspiracies (and maybe even leveraged them in a conversation with the U.S. government, who can say) and he doesn't bother denying it, because the truth is he has let this child down from the moment he allowed him to be hunted on Skulker's island, and he deserves every nasty word and more.

"Yeah. I know," he tells the woman. In his ear, Sam demands to know what's happening. The boy is incoherent with pain, the outline of the bone pressing against his skin.

"It's going to be okay," Danny tells him, lifting off the ground. Regret is sour in his gut, bile on his tongue. What was he thinking? In the curl of his arms, the child is so small. This isn't a stray cat one coaxes into their home. This is a terrified little boy.

Danny isn't a fourteen-year-old too young and stupid to recognize he shouldn't let a two-month-old clone explore the world with his blessing. He's twenty-eight. He needs to get a grip.

He needs to be better.

The world stops. Everything goes quiet.

A blue portal unwinds via the hands of time.

"I see you're ready now." Clockwork says to him.

Danny wants to deny it, but the words are stuck in his throat. What use is denying what Clockwork already knows to be true?

"This is the right choice, Danny. Everything will be as it should be. Help him," Clockwork nods at the child. "Then find me."

Danny's tongue unsticks from his mouth. "Only if you tell me. If I do this, will he be safe? Will I have the power to protect him?" An echo of what waits to be unlocked drapes over his words, cracks appearing in the ground at his feet. "Tell me."

"Yes. You will keep him safe. Until he no longer needs you to do so. Here."

With a wave of his staff, a neon green portal rends through the air.

Clockwork drifts back to his own portal. "I will see you in Time, Danny."

Danny nods at him as he leaves, feeling a contract snap into place as time restarts at a crawl.

"Shh kiddo," he says as the boy, gradually unfreezing, trickles tears. "I've got you. You'll be okay. I'm going to fix this. I promise."

He steps through the portal, towards whatever comes next.

Part 5

[watchingblsnowandforever]

Hello!!!! =D

So. We Are ep 13. I don't how they do this, but they keep making every episode better than the last. At this rate, I'll not be able to survive episode 16.

Warning: long post 😊😅 (there will be a smol part 2 because 30 screenshots are definitely not enough.)

We have the Best Parents in BL, but now I present to you: The Best Aunt in BL.

Subtle, Aunt Pui, real subtle. 😭

I get her. She just wants a nice, handsome boyfriend for her nephew. 😌

First of all, the symbolism is hitting me right in the face, but it's also so subtle because no one else knows the whole story, so they wouldn't be able to figure it out.

Secondly. Yes, the red and blue do clash a bit, and it's not the prettiest little painting. But. Not every painting has to be "pretty" or perfect. Just like feelings or emotions in real life. Peem didn't willingly draw over his precious painting because he thought it'd look better; he did it because he wanted it to express his feelings. This also ties into Peem's insecurity at having (apparently) failed at being Phum's comfort zone because see, in the painting it looks like the sea is embracing the roses, or protecting them.

What I'm trying to say, is that what makes art beautiful is not just what you directly see on the canvas/right in front of you. And this applies even to the "pretty" ones. The David is not just famous because it looks very good, but also because of the amount of skill and talent Michelangelo had to be able to create such a thing from a block of marble. (I'm sorry I'm not good at examples or analogies 😭)

Sir. What business do you have, making an expression like that and giving me a heart attack.

If I haven't said this before: find a man who looks at you like Phum (Pond) looks at Peem (Phuwin).

Two sides of the same coin.

Phum still feels guilty (which is very clear from his reaction to what Peem says) about ruining Peem's painting, so he wants to do something to make sure nothing like that ever happens to Peem again.

Peem is long over it (you don't ever forget shit like that, but he has definitely forgiven Phum). He met Phum because of that Incident™, and he has a new, upgraded painting, so this is just a light joke for him. But the moment he sees it's too soon for Phum, he immediately goes to reassure him he's just kidding, and he absolutely does not hold it over Phum.

A simple pinky promise, but how much does it mean to Phum?

He's never had someone to make a pinky promise with; Fang was in a similar situation as him, and Beer knew better to make a promise and have it broken by forces outside his control.

So this, this small, childish gesture means quite a bit to him. (Which is also probably why having broken it hurt him so much.)

And yet Peem, you're smiling so wide while saying that. Almost like *le gasp* you actually like it!

Let's be real here, Peem. You don't mind at all. In fact, you sounded unbearably fond saying this. You were quite literally giggling and kicking your feet. (Which fits my headcanon of him pretty well actually.)

This shot. Just >>>> (actually thinking of making it my header-)

Ma boy never misses a chance 😭👍🏼

And if he doen't get a chance, he makes one and nails that too. <3

SO CUTEE 🥺🫶🏼

Oh the teasing is on.

Pun: I did that 😌

Beer: Idiots in love. Again. *exasperated sigh*

[From this point on, I am extremely sleep deprived, so most comments made will probably (definitely) be forgotten by the time I wake up (I'm going right to sleep after posting this.]

Well, Chain, I'm sorry to be the one telling you this, but Phum moved into Peem's heart like 6 episodes ago.

Well, yeah, but Peem has to act at least a little bit like the tsundere he is, right?

Chain: "Well, can a cupid shoot an arrow at himself?"

Toey: *very telling side-eye*

Q: You really think one flirty line will trigger his half braincell to understand what he didn't in the past however many years? ...go on, I wanna see how this turns out

Pun: *pikachu meme face*

Beer: Oh damn here goes another one, we must be nearing the last episode

Phum: ????

Peem: Don't say anything don't say anything DON'T SAY ANYTHING DON'T YOU DARE FUCKING SAY A SINGLE WORD- (internally: Idiots. They're idiots.)

Ah, I love the sibling energy here. Also, initially I was like nah you're more like Tan. But then I gave it some thought. And had a Realization: he really is the Fang in their relationship, and Q really is the Tan. (I do not have the brainpower to explain rn, but tell me if you want me too, I'll include it in Part 2.)

Phum can't wait. (And neither can Peem, because I didn't see ya denying anything, babe. Instead, you gave him the softest shoulder bump in the history of soft shoulder bumps and that bigass (smitten) smile.

Oh boy this scene.

Right before this, when Peem called Phum immediately after the last brushstroke, I was smiling so hard and giggling like yesss do boyfriend-y things with each other!

Him waiting on the porch: still big smile. Here comes Phum! Ooh are they gonna flirt in the car??

My smile started dimming as the seconds ticked by and no Phum appeared on screen.

Until I finally realized what was happening.

I almost stopped breathing.

And as the scene went on my heart broke a little more with every text and every call, and I was watching that mall scene again. Except it was much much worse this time.

So long story short, I was heartbroken for both of them. Especially when Peem showed up alone with the saddest lost-kitten face ever.

But, at this point I knew Phum must have had something really urgent/unaviodable to miss his meeting with Peem because 1. He really really loves that boy and 2. He was very much looking forward to doing this with Peem.

Unfortunately, I will have to end Part 1 here (please don't kill me), and I'm loathe to end on a sad note, but I promise the next part will be much happier. It will hopefully be posted a little later today.

If you got this far, thank you so much for reading! 😊

Here, have a pudding 🍮

My previous We Are posts.

[thankyouforthememoriesworld]

🔎 I wanted to send a better article after that last post of randomness. I LOVE these articles (which then send me down random side quests).

First one features a bunch of high school coaches talking about facing Azzi. I love reading what they have to say because they all respect her so much.

https://web.archive.org/web/20211127092909/https://www.ctinsider.com/uconn/article/Scouting-report-on-UConn-freshman-Azzi-Fudd-16550275.php

The coach for Sidwell talks about the gameplan for the championship game. What I didn't know is Kiki Rice played that game for Sidwell as a sophomore. And I found this long highlight with their commentary.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VvJB3byj7lM

This video has Azzi's championship interview:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ePII9w82ijA

Of course step up has highlights: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ZfVsCCGOIg

Houzmazoo does as well and I love him just yelling that's the match up right there (for Azzi vs Kiki): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VPboERy3n8o

Second article is a month after Geno has gotten to work with Azzi.

https://web.archive.org/web/20211108155314/https://www.ctinsider.com/sports/article/UConn-freshman-Azzi-Fudd-everything-Geno-Auriemma-16288873.php

“I think most of it is what I expected,” Auriemma said. “She’s very quiet, very much introverted, really doesn’t say a whole lot. But her game is much older than her age. Her footwork is the kind of footwork that you would expect from someone going into the pros, someone who has spent three or four years perfecting that. That’s how good her footwork is. And her ability to get shots off and the way the shot comes off every single time, the exact same way, I mean, I knew it, but when you’re watching on a regular basis, it’s pretty amazing.”

On Thursday, he just motioned, letting his arms flail and swing to represent Bueckers’ herky-jerky style and closing his hands together to demonstrate Fudd’s skills — coordinated, tight, together.

Third is a month before she started freshman year basketball season. Just 5 things about her. It is fun to read that she caught Geno's eye as a 7th grader.

https://web.archive.org/web/20211020221324/https://www.ctpost.com/sports/article/She-hates-the-spotlight-5-things-to-know-16181444.php

I love it when you go down a rabbit hole because you always make amazing discoveries and I get to enjoy them 😘.

Newbies should be required to read these articles and watch these videos to be able to talk about Azzi.

Fudd is, in essence, a supernova — a complete scorer with unlimited range, a point guard’s handle, and no ego. Her jump shot has been lauded by NBA superstar Stephen Curry, and there are comparisons to WNBA and UConn legend Maya Moore in her overall game.

Azzi basically met all the NCAA players in high school, she knows everyone. I wasn't expecting 50 minutes for the highlight video (I'll watch it at another time 😅).

Of course, Azzi was MVP of another championship game.

When can I see her play again? I miss her shot so fucking much😭.

Give us Houzmazoo as a commentator in the NCAA, he's so entertaining: "oh that's far enough" "tough" "step back, shot *lol*" "good D, that's the match up".

Fudd’s footwork in drills is just about always the same, which is to say it’s almost always perfect. The way she catches the ball and shoots it? Same every time, whether 10 or 25 feet from the basket. “Azzi just walks around like she’s good,” Auriemma said Thursday outside Gampel Pavilion

Geno is going to play her 30 minutes per game, isn't he? He loves Azzi too much 😌.

“All we have to do is get her open,” Auriemma said a couple weeks ago. “Boom, boom, boom. It’s up in the air before you can get your hands up. Swish, swish, swish. Right in (the defender’s) face. Her free throws and her shots from three feet beyond the 3-point line are exactly the same, no difference, no added anything, same routine. A lot of it is God given. A lot of it is her working her butt off every day. I don’t say anything about her shot other than ‘Good job.’”

The Bueckers-Fudd era has begun — almost. (we're having it this year 💫)

Fudd landed on the Huskies’ radar as a seventh-grader, and took an unofficial visit to Storrs during her freshman year at St. John’s College High School in Washington, D.C.

I don't even have to say anything about this 🤠:

Fudd and Bueckers are nearly inseparable. They’ve been spending most weekends together since UConn’s season ended, working out privately with Alex McLean, an assistant coach with the NBA’s Washington Wizards.

“They’re very, very close. They’re also extremely competitive with each other, which you would expect,” Scribner said. “While they’re great, great friends, they both want to beat each other on the court.”

[bucknastysbabe]

This is pure crack taken seriously. Fuckin in publix places.

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Public sex, the Targtower horrendous family vacation, Daeron is in the picture (he isn’t), Bodyguard Criston, age gap, almost daddy kink, spitting in mouth, sink sex?, pnv!sex, v!fingering, oral fixations, Degredation, dirty talk, Criston is Old, Aegon is the FBI’s sex crimes hound he has a 20 mile radius

Taglist: @bambitas @moncherrii @aemonds-holy-milk @fairysluna @lovelykhaleesiii @arcielee @sugarpoppss2 @targaryenbarbie @gemini-mama

I do not work at this establishment Nope not at all

It was obscenely hot. Your family was on the annual trip to Clearwater for a summer vacation to the beach. Also known as the Targtower explosion failure tour. You and Daeron had coined it that two years ago when Aegon had drunkenly exploded the back yard trying to set off fireworks.

Your mother wheeled your decrepit father around, a floppy sun hat on his spotted head. Viserys was…rotting…sort of? Cancer sucks. It wasn’t really like he was there anyways, all of you were sent to boarding schools. Ole’ Vizzy invited his eldest daughter, her children, and Uncle Daemon to the grand beach mansion this year. Probably because he’d be dead next year.

Whatever it may be. It will be chaotic. Aemond was already scribbling furiously in his totally not a diary journal. Your family had stopped to get subs and some refreshments at one of the many Publix shopping centers dotting Florida. It was a busy Friday, so the whole clan was rotting along with Viserys in line.

Aegon slipped off to, “Stock up on booze.”

No surprise there. You eyed the family bodyguard Criston to gauge his reaction. He looked bored, gaze following Aegon. You ogled Criston’s summer wear. He looked pretty fucking good with some bitty shorts and a summery button-up polo. You’d been fucking the man since, well, every holiday or vacation since last Thanksgiving.

Which you thought would be hard. Not really as most of your family didn’t give a fuck about anything but themselves or were on something. Otto had been the closest to catching the pair of you. Taking a step behind Helaena you whispered, “Come up with something.”

Criston’s dark brows furrowed as he mouthed back ‘what?’ You rolled your eyes and murmured, “Find a reason for us to fuck off from this line, mom knows the orders!” Criston’s confusion settled into a calm facade. He spoke up, “Ali, the squirt and I are going to get some ice and other stuff, just text?”

“Sure, go ahead, this line isn’t moving anytime soon,” she sighed, waving them off.

Free from the hellish deli line you echoed “Squirt?”

Criston rubbed the back of his neck, laughing, “I mean I am 20 years your elder, and I make you squirt?” He stopped and peered at the signs, gasping when you dragged him toward the bathrooms. The bodyguard questioned frantically as you moved.

“W-what are we doing? Oh my, no, I know what you’re thinking, no!”

His big hands paused you by the shoulders. Criston sternly stated, “I’m supposed to be watching over everyone, not boinking in a public restroom! At a Christian establishment!” You frowned, throwing the man puppy eyes, pressing yourself into his trim frame. The grocery workers were probably disgusted but not surprised.

Leaning up to whisper you whined, “Come onnnnn, live a little, they’re just in line, a quickie? C’mon Criston, m’so fuckin’ wet for you baby.”

His jaw clenched down on a ragged growl. You stroked a hand down his chest, “Enjoy it while we can, soon I’m going to be frolicking around in my bikini while you gotta watch my dad.”

That seemed to win over the man, sighing and dipping into the women’s bathroom with you, taking up the biggest stall. Criston shoved you against the black stall, growling, “You’re such a damn brat, what got you all wet in the car, hm baby?”

“Mmm, I was watching you drive, your hands, wanted them ‘round my throat, fingers on my tongue baby.”

Criston’s dark eyes rolled a bit, the big hands in question slapping down on your ass as he hissed, “Drive me insane, goddamn.” He closed in toward your face and kissed, moaning soft and low. You shoved down his shorts, gently pulling at flushed cock. The bodyguard gasped and bit your lip, snarling, “Needy aren’t we?”

You nodded, opening your full lips. Criston spat into your mouth muttering, “Filthy girl.” You mewled when he picked you up and propped your ass on the sink. He told you to shut up while thick fingers slid up your skirt, ripping the thin material of your panties off. You bit down on your knuckles, whining like a damn puppy.

“Cock slut.”

You loved when he called you that. You also loved when he took your destroyed panties for his own keeping. Criston was a bigger whore than you. Folded so easily when you made the first move.

Criston murmured, nipping at your ear, “Goddamn you didn’t lie, little dirty slut, gonna have to fuck you now, god, don’t know how anyone just doesn’t look at you and know.”

“K-kn-know what?”

“What a deviant, cock-hungry slut you are baby,” he laughed quietly, pressing a couple kisses to your lips and jaw. You gripped weakly at his hair, panting in sharp little mewls. His dark eyes greedily roved over your tits falling out of the low-cut top, writhing on his thick fingers, begging for his cock.

Criston hissed, shoving his fingers down your throat to quiet your desperate begging. Tears fell down your eyes as you realized he removed

them between your legs to shove down your mouth. You shivered— more tears leaking down your red cheeks as you helplessly tasted your own essence.

The bodyguard grinned sharply, cooing into your ear, “Figured that would keep you quiet. Fucking whore.” His dark hair fell forward as he gazed at your cunt, adding, “Lookit’cha, already trying to suck me in, hah.”

He aligned his weeping cock with your horribly empty pussy, bullying his way in, free hand coming to rest at the small of your arching back. You shook at the sudden, deep intrusion, suckling Criston’s thick fingers with a mewl. The bodyguard was making forceful little thrusts

into your cunt, trying to keep the noise level at a minimum.

He mouthed at your shoulder, neck, panting dirty nonsense. You grew tighter around him, the lurid nature of this situation making you throb harder. Criston chuckled in your ear, strained from his very methodical fucking.

Usually the man wanted to be soft and sappy, fuck for hours. Or go to pound town. He was currently stuck in an awkward predicament and couldn’t do either.

“You’ll be bringing your pretty ass to my room every night after dragging me into this shit.”

You nodded eagerly, squirming on his length. Criston groaned at your unexpected response, his girl already fuck dumb on his ass, she’d have some sexy bratty remark right now. He refocused on jerking his hips up, hitting that soft spot at the roof of her pussy.

Criston shoved his left thumb in her mouth to get it wet before snaking it down to her engorged clit, throbbing and twitching in time with his direct little thrusts. He groaned raggedly at her involuntary shiver, milking his prick further along.

A pair of voices giggled from outside the stall, “Oh my god, they’re fucking? Don’t forget a condom!”

Criston’s eyes widened. He needed to wrap this up before anyone got suspicious. He pulled out a bit to slam back in, swirling his thumb, even popping a puffy nipple into his mouth. The brunette even began to massage her warm tongue.

“Mm, Mm! Cri- mmmmm!”

He grinned up from her tits, rumbling, “Come for me pretty girl, come on, do it now, we have a time limit!”

He didn’t mean to mention the time limit. Whoops.

You nodded, eyes rolling back as you were deposited into bliss. Criston hungrily replaced his wet fingers with his mouth, kissing away and swallowing desperate noises. Shuddering against his bigger frame he coddled and pet you, cock pumping along until he tensed and blew his load partially in you, partially in a papertowel, groaning your name.

His sappy puppy eyes were out now, the elder man breathing softly against your face. He hummed, “Alright, let’s get dressed yeah?” You nodded and tucked your tits away, putting wild hair into a ponytail, and straightening your skirt. The panties would have to be missing, hopefully no cum would leak out.

Criston looked a bigger mess, his curls all over the place, shirt askew, shorts on the ground. He breathed out huffily, “Please help me.” You smirked at him, getting Criston presentable for the great outdoors, of Publix. Regardless, both of you looked like you’d been fucking in a bathroom. Whatever.

The deli line had only moved 3 more spots, finally putting your mom and Vizzy, now asleep, in the front row. You held some sunscreen while Criston had the box of ice. Aemond raised a brow and scoffed. Aegon, significantly drunker than you’d last seen him sniffed loudly.

“It smells like someone was fucking? Who was fucking?”

You watched in horror as Aegon sniffed out Criston like a hound. He snatched up Criston’s fingers and stared before guffawing, the body guard shoving your eldest brother away. Aegon was on hand and knee now, laughing, “Sorry, I- HAHAAHAHAHAHAH- okay, m’god I prom-AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAH”

You kicked his shin, Aegon yelping and tripping. Eventually Otto stepped in and handed out orders of food. Why was he wearing a pimp outfit? Oh my god?

You grabbed some peach Tea while Criston snatched an energy drink. You hummed, “I mean how many times can you say that you’ve been fucking in Publix?”

“Yeah, that’s ten swats.”

[flowercrowngods]

shattered on the cliff’s edge, trapped by the tides

part 1 / 7 | or: read on ao3

The fog rolls in like a heavy cloud that morning, leaving the city in eerie darkness as Steve hurries toward the heavy door to the steel manufactory, scarf wound tightly around his neck to keep out the cold so uncommon for late September.

“Thanks,” he mutters to the gruff, broad man who holds open the door for him. He sees him every morning but has never had the chance to ask about his name. The question is on the tip of his tongue when, with a nod and a touch to his sturdy-looking hat, the man walks down a different corridor than Steve.

Where outside the fog was so thick that all noise seemed dulled, like cotton in his ears, the manufactory is a cacophony of banging and clanging, hissing and whirring, and Steve needs a moment to breathe the polluted, heavy air that’s always just a tad too hot for his lungs.

He doesn’t mind the work, is good with his hands and enjoys the single-minded focus it provides on a good day, the deafening noise loud enough to drown out most of the comments the other workers throw his way; comments about his father, his upbringing, and his rather sudden downfall when Richard D. Harrington decided to disown his eldest son three years ago without rhyme or reason.

Steelwork, engineering, intricate cogs that work massive machinery — they fascinate him, they keep him busy fourteen hours a day, and they leave him dead to the world when the shift is over and graciously let him sleep through the dreams that have been haunting him ever since he can remember being haunted.

It’s always the same dream, in the fall more than in the spring. A lighthouse trapped in the sea, waves rolling and crashing, water rising so high that it might as well swallow the lighthouse whole. And through it all, a beacon. And through it all, a voice he cannot make out. And through it all, a ticking that echoes through his skull even long after he gasped awake with a lungful of water that Robin says might be Tuberculosis.

He blinks away the gloom that has laid over his heart like the fog over the city, shakes off the trancelike feeling that overtakes him every time he tries to think about the lighthouse when he is wide awake, and rubs away the headache that comes with sleep deprivation. It’s fall again, which means he spends his nights haunted by ghostly images of a lighthouse he’s not even sure exists, robbed of all chances at resting if he doesn’t work himself to the point of absolute exhaustion.

They are earlier this year, the night terrors. Everything is a little earlier this year.

A heavy hand lands on his shoulder as Emerson arrives behind him, leading him to their station with idle chatter about the weather and the horrible, horrible fog that Steve has not the patience to partake in today — which is just as well for Emerson and his sunny disposition, he’ll simply talk enough for the both of them. Steve is fond enough of him to let him be as he falls into the routine of working steel and breathing overheated, coal-stained air.

They work in unison until noon, the headache dull enough as long as he keeps busy, but almost blinding when he stops for even a second. A booming voice makes him look up from his station, though, as he is being summoned to the office.

It’s never a good sign, and Steve can feel the blood draining from his face, pulling the ache with it as it travels down his spine and settles in his centre in a pit of nausea.

“Oh no,” Emerson murmurs under his breath, even managing to sound genuine about it. “What did you do?”

Images assault his mind. Prison, if he’s lucky. Asylum and electroshock therapy if he’s not; if his father changed his mind about making it public that his eldest son and heir deserves punishment, or treatment for moral insanity. Steve tries not to think of that too often, tries not to look at men like that anymore — tries not to look at anyone anymore until the public forgets about him.

But every time he is reminded that he exists is another time of fear. Fear of being found out.

“I… have no idea,” Steve says after a while, looking up to where the door to the office looms above all of them, leaving them to feel like prisoners in a panopticon.

“Better not keep ‘em waiting, then. Probably too late to run, eh?”

“Probably,” Steve says, dazed, not really listening to Emerson as he kicks into motion and walks briskly up the stairs, pretending not to feel everyone’s eyes on his back.

It is out of a nervous habit that he pulls the watch from his pocket, its silver chain linked to his vest. It springs open in his hands as he takes the steps one by one, providing comfort for no reason other than it’s his. It doesn’t show the time, never has, but after losing everything at his father’s whim, the pocket watch stayed with him.

“Keep it,” Richard had sneered. “The blasted thing isn’t worth a penny!”

The fingers only ever moved incrementally over the years, and backwards, but still there is something about the watch that makes him keep it close at all times. Collecting himself, he closes his hand around the light metal and filigree ornaments and mentally counts to three before putting it back in his pocket and knocking on the door.

“Ah, Harrington,” the superior manager says, his voice sounding like gravel as per usual. The man has a habit of competing with the steel manufactory’s chimneys, only he smokes cigars instead of coal dust like his workers. Steve remembers the smell of fine cigars, and this office smells like the best among them.

It only helps to strengthen his disdain for the man.

Still he nods and aims for a pleasant smile. “You asked for me, sir?”

“Yes, yes,” the man says, leaning back in his thick leather chair and motioning for Steve to take a seat at the sturdy, delicately engraved mahogany desk. “Sit down, sit down, time is money and I give you more of that than you deserve anyway. I have a proposition for you and you are in no position to decline, yes?”

“Yes?” Steve says dumbly, taking his time to sit down just to spite him.

The man, however, is not as easily perturbed. “That’s what I want to hear, I have to admire your morale, Harrington. Here,” he turns and reaches for a cabinet, rummaging around for a minute before—

The blood in Steve’s veins freezes, leaving him cold and too hot all at once.

Underneath the beefy hand, he makes out a photograph — or possibly a postcard — showing a stark white lighthouse trapped in the sea, gigantic waves crashing into it, threatening to tear it down and carry it along to wherever the tides lead. The beacon of light is steadfast and stubborn, guiding and pointing at something that’s out of the frame, but what Steve can only assume is absolute nothingness out in the open sea.

He slides it over the table to lie in front of Steve, and he fights every urge to recoil, only gripping the arm rest far too tightly.

“See, we got a telegram earlier today that they’re having problems with the lighthouse up north. They say it’s something with the generator, not fit enough to last in the cold, where the air is made of saltwater more than oxygen.”

Steve nods, though he is only halfway listening, his heart hammering in his chest at the picture of the lighthouse, etched onto the paper like it has no idea it is also etched on the very forefront of Steve’s mind — has been, for almost three decades now.

“And since you’re the only one here traditionally educated in reading and writing,” the man continues, either unaware of Steve’s dizziness or delighting in it, “and you know your way around a machine or two, fixing the generator and handling the light shouldn’t be a problem for you.”

It’s not a question. It’s not even an offer.

Steve wonders if maybe he fell down the stairs and hit his head, if maybe the sleep deprivation is finally leading to hallucinations like Robin keeps warning him.

“You want me to fix the lighthouse?”

“That is precisely what I want, yes. Stay there a while, find out what seems to be the problem.”

He’s getting up, walking over to a cabinet, pulling out a half-empty bottle of what Steve can only assume is whisky. A biting, earthy smell floats through the room, thick enough to cling to his clothes if he stays here much longer.

“You’ll find yourself familiar with the equipment, as it is us who supply them. In fact, you have built generators and fixtures and engines like that. You’re a bright spark, Harrington, I can admit that. You’re the best fit. And I’m not asking.”

His jaw clicks shut, his hands clenched into fists beneath the table as he meets those dark eyes head-on.

“When do I leave?”

An ugly grin spreads the man’s face, gaining too much joy from other people’s powerlessness down the food chain.

“Tomorrow. If I remember correctly, and I usually do, you do not have much business to attend to, and even fewer things to pack. I trust you will find your place at the train station at five tomorrow morning. Emerson will know to fill your shoes in your absence.”

How long will I be gone? he wants to ask, but is too afraid that the answer will only be another cruel smirk and a sip of whisky.

He gets up, certain that he is being dismissed, and getting no sign that he’s wrong.

“Oh, and Harrington.” He stops with his hand on the door already. “Perhaps this is a good time to mention that the lighthouse is without a keeper. I have offered your services for the time being, seeing as you will already be there. The salary, of course, will be thrice as much as your usual.”

The daze is back, smelling of saltwater air and whisky, rushing in his ears like waves bursting on the cliffs.

“What happened to the old keepers?” he dares to ask.

“That doesn’t concern you.”

“Yes, it does. What happened to the old keepers?”

“I think you shall find out soon enough.” A beat of silence — horrible, tidal silence. Then, “You’re dismissed.”

***

The train ride is blessedly pleasant, the first class ticket providing the luxury of comfortable seating and relative silence, the wheels occasionally clicking along the railway loud enough to drown out the near-deafening rushing of the ocean in his ears — or perhaps it’s not the ocean, perhaps it is his own blood, pumped with fear and apprehension.

The only upside to all of this is the telegram he’s been gripping tightly all morning so as not to lose it, not to forget about it, not to think it was a dream. A childish, hopeless dream, a longing for company to battle the fear of the dark.

I’ll meet you there. 3 days.

Signed: Robin Buckley. She never took his name, said she did not want to be associated with Richard and the Harrington wealth that came with the Napoleonic wars — never mind that they happened almost a century ago.

Blood money isn’t wealth, Steven, she’d said to him on many occasions, and he loved her for it all the more.

Maybe it will be fine if Robin is there with him. Maybe they won’t end up succumbing to madness like people are wont to do, subjected to the endless loneliness of lighthouse keeping. Confronted with a darkness so deep it needs human invention to remain habitable. Maybe, he wonders idly and with shortness of breath, the world will end if all its lights are gone. Maybe all that will remain is nothingness and the ruthless sea — maybe, until the sun rises again and the light returns. But up north, the sun doesn’t stay all that long. Up north, they say the darkness is different. They say it’s sentient. They say—

A servant offers him some tea or coffee if he pleases, ripping hit out of his obsessive spiral of apprehension and fear.

“Yes, thank you,” he breathes, miming quiet politeness to cover up the lack of air in his lungs. The servant nods, not at all perturbed by Steve’s rather horrific disposition, and moves along.

The tea helps a little. It’s hard to think horrible thoughts when there is a steaming cup in your hands smelling comfortingly of herbs and just a hint at something spicy. It feels almost primal, his fear of the lighthouse — but just as primal is the comfort he finds in the warmth spreading from his hands all the way through his body. The shaking stops after a minute, and breath has returned to his lungs in a way that doesn’t leave him scared to let it out.

It will be fine. The sea will lose its terror, and so will darkness. He will read, and fix what needs to be fixed, and laugh at it all with Robin by his side, who will teach him about birds they will never see, about authors that don’t live anymore, and about the stars they get to watch.

It will be fine. He will be fine. Always, with Robin.

***

He arrives at the seaside town just before nightfall, and the first thing he notices is not the rushing of the ocean, but the crispness of the air that feels vastly different in his lungs to the grey and brown, polluted city air. It’s like he’s a babe taking his first breath in this world; and just like a babe, he is overcome with the urge to cry. He doesn’t, only pinches the bridge of his nose and grabs his bags — two of them, filled only with clothes and books to pass the time.

The walk to the next inn is a long one, and by the time he arrives there — guttural laughter coming even through closed doors and windows — he is frozen to his bones. If he’d thought that fall was quick to arrive in the city, he might as well have entered an arctic winter up here. The half suspects, though, that the cold comes from his empty stomach and the bitterness that replaced the fear just as well as the actual, biting cold.

And to think it’s only just early September.

He pushes the door open and finds it blissfully warm, a large fire roaring in the fireplace and in the hearth, leaving the food steaming on the plates. Silence settles almost immediately, and Steve freezes on the spot. Being perceived in a situation he has no control over has never been his strong suit, and he wonders just what these people have heard about him. If they heard anything at all.

“Come in or get out, but leave the cold out there,” a large lady says from behind the bar, an apron wrapped around her skirt and a towel in her hand as she eyes him with wary but not unkind eyes.

“Forgive me,” Steve says, stepping further into the inn and letting the heavy door fall shut behind him.

“Ahh,” someone says from where he’s sitting on a round table with six other, quite burly men. Fishermen, Steve assumes, or harbour workers, if their sun-tanned skin and general muscular build are any indication. He places his jug of beer on the table and eyes Steve rather closely. “You’re the boy they sent. Who will fix the lighthouse, aye?”

“Aye,” Steve says stupidly, internally cringing at himself. Then, turning towards the woman, “Have you a room to spare?”

“Have you money to spare?” she retorts, clearly mocking him for his odd choice of words — it’s hard, laying down his aristocratic upbringing, especially in a town auch as this.

“Of course,” he says. “For food, drink, and someone to bring me to the lighthouse in three days.”

Another man of the group snorts loudly, shaking his head and studying his ale like it would tell him the future.

“No way, boy. Ain’t no one gettin’ close to that thing.”

“She’s haunted. Has a mind and a life of her own, and she’s made it clear that no one is welcome to get too close. ‘S what lighthouses are for, eh? No getting too close. You get too close, you die. Simple as that.”

Steve takes it in, the pale faces of the men all nodding along, the thousand yard stares they all have in common — and his fear is back. But greater than his fear is his annoyance with men who insist on calling him boy and decide to speak in riddles instead of making sense.

“Haunted?” he asks, taking one of two spare seats at the table, nodding at the woman in thanks as she brings him an ale that only barely smells like piss. “How?”

“Haven’t you heard?” a fourth man, the oldest of them, speaks up. “There’s a curse on the lighthouse. No one gets out alive. We only ever bring her new stock, like cattle to the slaughterhouse. She takes. She takes and takes, boy.”

“So you do bring them,” Steve points out, far too tired and irritated to listen to a ghost story before he’s even had a proper, warm dinner.

The men still, and Steve places a tower of money in the centre of the table.

“It’s yours,” he says, looking at each of them, one after the other, “if you take us there in three days. Four, if the weather decides to play.”

“Us?”

“My wife,” Steve says.

“Fine,” one of them, the one who first spoke to him, grumbles, reaching for the money. “Now go. This table is for grownups, boy.”

With an eye-roll and an air of arrogance, Steve gets up and finds a seat at another table closer to the fireplace. Soon after, fresh stew is placed before him and he dives in.

***

The lighthouse towers on top of the cliffs and Steve watches, mesmerised, as he makes out its shape even in the pitch black darkness. It’s eerie, the power it emanates, the myths and legends that weave around it and its kind. Legends that would be fascinating learning about them in the safety of one’s bed, but which are horrifying to remember days before the nameless fates could be one’s own.

The darkness of the night really is endless here without the lights of the city, and he can only imagine how the lighthouse would help, how it would bring back hope and security, a promise of safe passage. It’s brings him a sort of peace; a purpose, imagining this town in the lighthouse’s beacon. Safe for the night, safe until the sun comes back.

Still it doesn’t ease his night terrors, filled with whispers as they are, growing in urgency and almost clear enough to make out.

Three days pass. Four. Five. There is no sign of Robin. Anxiety grows within him, because Steve knows Robin was going to take the seaside route from the Cunningham estate — well, one of them, at least.

She has a mind of her own. She takes and takes, boy. She’s haunted. Has a mind and a life of her own, and she’s made it clear that no one is welcome to get too close.

What if…

No. No, there is simply no way. Haunted lighthouses taking lives. There’s no— no way. He won’t fall for their ghost stories.

Unfortunately, however, they don’t fall for his charm either, and on the seventh day, when the sea is calm and the sun steady above them, the man who took they money — Old John, apparently — approaches him.

“We’re leaving now,” he says, shoving Steve ahead of him, deaf to his protest that they have to wait, they have to wait. “Your sweetheart ain’t coming, kid. Don’t think she’ll be coming anywhere ever again if she really took the ship. They talk of a ship that got lost in the storm, burst on the cliffs because there was no light. I’m sorry, kid, but I won’t risk waiting any longer.”

A ship lost in the storm?

But… No. No!

“No,” he whispers, letting himself be shoved onto a tiny boat and rocked this way and that, feeling nauseous for more reasons than one.

He’s wrong, Steve knows; feels it in his very soul. Robin is not dead. She’ll come.

She… She will come. She won’t leave him alone, all alone, in this place that has been haunting him for years and years.

She’ll come.

The lighthouse towers above them, perched on top of cliffs that make Steve understand why nobody wanted take him here. There’s no safe way of getting close, let alone climbing up the stairs carved into the cliffs, leading up to the door with no railing, no rope to hold onto. One large wave crashing into him, and he’d belong to the ocean.

He wants to cry again. Wants to curl in on himself and weep as the reality of everything begins to settle in the deepest, darkest places of his heart.

If he leaves the boat, he’ll be trapped with no way of getting out, no way of contacting the land they’ve left far, far behind. Supplies are said to last several months, he knows, he studied the file he got. Several months without human interaction unless Robin magically, wonderfully appears in a few days after all.

“Good luck, kid,” is the last thing he’ll ever hear of Old John as he pulls himself onto the cliffs, reaching for his bags from the old man’s hands. The sea is deafening here as waves crash and burst relentlessly, and he can’t hear what else Old John is saying, but he thanks him and salutes, which the seaman returns with an air of melancholy.

Steve climbs the stairs, soaked to the bones by the splashing water, but somehow — miraculously — malign his way up. As he turns around, fog is starting to gather above the water, but he can make out the tiny silhouette of the boat.

He watches, and it’s meant as a last goodbye, one last glance at his one way out. But terror fills him as he watches, helplessly, powerlessly, as Old John’s boat keels over and disappears. He keeps his eyes fixed to the spot, not daring to look away until there’s proof of life. But Old John doesn’t break the surface again.

And Steve is left filled with horror and the absolute certainty that he might not make it out if he sets foot inside the lighthouse.

Behind him, the door opens with a horrible, terrifying creak, and the beating of his heart is too loud for any other noise to exist in Steve’s world right now.

🌊 part 2 (coming 26 October)

tagging (trading tags for kindness): @klausinamarink @vampeddie @steviesummer @sharpbutsoft @auroraplume

[moonchild-in-blue]

Hey, remember that time II kissed Vessel's arm? Okay byyeeeee :D

Well HELLO GOOD MORNING TO YOU TOO

(yes i did see this before i went to bed but i was wayyy too eepie to reply)

I hope you know this has just set the mood for my entire day so. I'm gonna be extra yearning and soft and whiny 👍 Sorry about that guys, I'm a pathetic wet cat of a person 😞

He could've hugged him. He could've high fived. He could've done that guy thing where they slap each other's butts and it's totally platonic and wholesome and hilarious.

AND YET. Mr. Daddy Twofoot (cmon guys, catch up on the name) KISSED??? HIS ARM??? On the sensitive soft part too?????

Like. Okay. Yeah yeah, the boyfriends, etc etc. But let me be actually serious for a second here.

(hello this turned out to be way longer and sappy than i intended so)

Do you see how effortless that was? He didn't hesitate for a second. How often do you see two guys (who I'm assuming are straight) be this affectionate with each other? A kiss on the inner arm is *such* a tender, intimate gesture, regardless of gender/sexuality - a type of action that is not usually expected between straight men.

And I don't know, I find it incredibly endearing and important to see that, as much as they do all that funny sexy stuff for the fans (and for themselves too - they seem to have so so much fun), these type of actions seem to be a part of their regular off-stage interactions. You can feel how genuinely good friends they all are.

And in the case of Vessel and ii, the founders of Sleep Token and the major force behind it all - how surreal and incredible it must be for them to get to experience all of this together. To see their hard work paying off. To stand proudly in front of literal thousands of people side by side with your best friend??? HELLO???

It's such a small thing, but I carries so much weight ya know? Like yeah dude, I love you and I'm proud of you, and you did a wonderful job. Isn't it SO touching???

I just LOVE to see it. Men who are vulnerable and affectionate around each other, who are comfortable in it, who shows us that yes, platonic friendships and pda are beautiful and important and in no way make you any less of a men. Which is something a LOT of dudebros in the metal scene would benefit in knowing.

I just. I don't know bro. Vessel x ii interactions mean the whole word to me. I was just talking with someone a few days ago of just how far Vessel has come in his music journey, and even within Sleep Token, the difference between One days and now is. Nothing short of astronomical. It feels almost miraculous, yet it is anything bUT, because we know how much effort V and ii put into making the music we so love. And of course iii, although not part of the creation process, has been with them from the beginning as well.

Can you imagine how overwhelmingly awesome and scary it must be for them?? And what are the odds of after a few years of changes, they somehow found the perfect person to complete them? SO MUCH SO, that you can see just how close iii and iv are BY THEIR MIRRORING ATTIRES?? HELLOOOOO ???? SOULMATES FR FR

Aaaa I feel like I'm going off on a huge tangent, and I am stopping now before I bring up the German Rituals and Wembley. December was a wild month omg I have not recovered yet.

I just!!! My heart!!! I love them. Vessel PLEASE I have been begging on my hands and knees, PLEASE PLEASE give your drummer a smooch omg he deserves it poor guy has the twinkliest prettiest eyes ever how can you NOT 🥺✨💙

Anyways. Yes, I do remember. Good gif 🙂👍

[gemsofgreece]

Farya Faraji did it again! This is a great episode presenting most Greek music instruments, while providing a lot of context, information, jokes, history lessons and as always he debunks all the myths and stereotypes about Greek music. In this video he is interviewing Demetrios Dallas, a Greek American polymusician (if that's a term in English) who can literally play ALL.

Chapters:

Intro

Bagpipes and reeds

Flutes and clarinet

Bowed instruments

Lutes

Kanonaki and Santouri

Percussions

Context of Greek music

Regional diversity

Rhythmic patterns

It's always changing

Pitch in the modal traditions

Westernisation and revival

The last chapter is thematically the most important and Farya is at the moment the most well known person / youtuber who calls out this massive misconception about Greek music. You see there is this whole, extremely rigid notion in Western Europe that Greek music was western but it was orientalized because Greeks were conquered by the Turks and were turkified and lost their identity. It was exactly the opposite in fact. Greek music was what you 'd call "eastern" (yes, including ancient Greek music, yes, including Homer times, Pericles times, blah blah blah) and it actually started westernising itself ONLY by the mid to late 19th century, meaning after the independence from the Ottomans and the establishment of the modern Greek state and the reason was the severe trauma of this whole ordeal. After its independence Greece SO did not want to have anything to do with Turkey and the East in general that for the first time it oriented itself totally towards the west in most everything. Farya is a bit bitter about it (you know, being of Iranian descent and interested in folk music and all) but because he's great and very knowledgeable at what he does, there is also all this analysis about how (especially after the population exchange with Turkey in which Anatolian Greeks moved to Greece) the eastern element re-established itself in the country. It remained marginalised for a long time but as it happens with things that are essentially your identity, it resurfaced and almost claimed its natural place. However, the biggest talents and minds of Greek music in the 20th century were largely trained in western music tradition and the music legacy they left behind is so monumental that the Greek music will almost certainly never become again as eastern as it once was. And that's okay because what was produced by these people was so essentially and uniquely Greek that it is now part of the Greek heritage, an eastern foundation glossed in western styles and the product is our trademark modern music.

*I loved when mr Dallas says how he has noticed that this aversion for heritage is being changed by the young generation and how just 20 years ago he could not find anyone in Greece to make him an askomandura and now he picks up the phone and there are at least 20 instrument makers who can do the job. It's amazing and it's not that far from what I was saying some time ago that I see it's the young people who slowly slowly try to make a change.

[i-cant-sing]

Yandere Dimitri letting reader go to a hotel/her home after she requests him to let her have a few days to herself and well, Dimi can't say no to you because you really have been on your best behaviour after he had kidnapped you a year ago and forced you to marry him and shit.

He knows he can be a little overbearing, but you're seeing it all wrong! It's just his way of expressing his love for you :D

But nevertheless, you deserve a break. Besides you'll be safe with all his men-

"No guards." You tell him. "I don't want them scaring my friends away."

"Yes guards." Dimitri furrows his brows at you, before pushing your hair behind your ear. "You won't notice them. They'll be hidden-"

"How hidden can they be when theyre built like bears and have that intimidating look in their eyes?" You glared at him before sighing. Time to use that soft voice and damsel in distress eyes he falls for. "Come on, Dimi~ please. I just- I can't stand the feeling of eyes on me. Please. I promise I won't do anything to endanger myself. I'll even call you every few hours to update but please. No guards." You said, exasperation evident in your eyes.

Dimitri cupped your cheek, heart melting into a puddle when you leaned into it. You're so cute.

"Fine. But you call every hour. And if you get so much so as a paper cut, you are to tell me immediately- katyonak, stop laughing. I'm not kidding. I will burn that paper before bringing you back here."

Now while Dimitri did promise you that he won't have any guards accompany you, he didn't mean he won't have any hiding in the shadows. They're the best of the best, so there's no way you'll be able to see them at all-

"I TOLD YOU NO GUARDS, DIMITRI!" He winced at you screeching through the phone. Looking at your angry form through the cameras installed in your room, he couldn't help but still find you so attractive as your face turned red with rage.

So cute.

He cleared his throat. "I don't know what you are talking about, honey. I didn't send any guards. Oh no- do you feel like someone's watching you? Are you in danger? I'm coming to pick you-"

"DIMITRI!"

"Yes, katyonak?"

"Send.your.men.away."

Dimitri feigned innocence. "Again, sweetie. I don't know what you're talking about. There's no one there."

"Oh really? Are you sure about that?" You asked, and Dimitri could hear the threat that was about to follow. "Well, I guess it wouldn't matter if I pulled the drapes away and took off my clothes, huh?"

"Huh? Y/n, no dont do that-" Dimitri could only watch as you pulled the curtains away and began taking your clothes off. "Y/n! Dont do that!"

"Why not? No ones looking and I sure do miss walking around naked without you grabbing me with your paws. Oops, just undid my skirt and slip them off. And I'm not wearing anything underneath-"

Dimitri immeadiately grabbed his work phone. "GET YOUR ASSES AWAY FROM THAT APARTMENT! YOU BETTER NOT BE FUCKING STARING AT MY WIFE OF I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL PULL ALL OF YOUR EYES OUT AND FEED THEM TO YOU! IM GOING TO KILL ALL OF YOU-!" You smiled as you ended the call, not caring to hear the rest of his threats to those poor men.

You began getting ready for bed, finally at ease now that you didn't feel being watched. But the feeling returned about 20 minutes later, which freaked you out more because there were no windows in the room for someone to be peeping in.

So... who was watching you?

Turning to your other side, you screamed and almost punched the figure lying in your bed, but it caught your fist.

"Shhh, katyonak. Its me-" but Dimitri was cut off with a pillow hitting his face.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" You yelled at him, snatching your wrist away from his hand, but it only prompted to Dimitri pulling your whole body against himself.

"I missed you." He pouted, puckering his lips for a kiss but you smacked his lips back.

"After a day?!"

"Yeah. And then you said that you were taking your clothes off and well- I don't wanna miss a strip tease by you."

"You get enough strip teases at home, Dimitri. Go away, I don't wanna be near you for a week- you promised me that you would let me have a break for 7 days!"

"Yes. Not 7 nights. So, I'll be here to cuddle you and eat you out for 7 nights-"

"Stop being a perv, Dimitri!" You punched his back lightly, but he only snuggled closer to you. Eventually, you relaxed in his arms. He might be a jerk, but he's warm and not that you'd ever admit it, but you do sleep better when he hugs you.

"Y/n?"

"What?"

"When you said you missed walking around naked, you know you could do it at our home?"

"Dimitri, shut up."

"And i love you too, katyonak." He said, and you felt him kiss your forehead.

[arrenlebanen777]

ASTRO OBSERVATIONS 111

"everything can be transcended" ✨Sun Scorpio in 5th house: is very dramatic, intense, all or nothing, usually when they where kids they likes to listen metal or very intense music like "gojira" or emo like "placebo", high libido, they love making dark and mysterious art like movie scores, dramatic acting, techno, art that involves chaos, eroticism or s*xuality too. ✨Chiron in our natal chart can be treated a lot and that's when it becomes a healer, but if it's not treated it's just pain. ✨Sun scorpio in Aries degrees(1, 13, 25):  not the mysterious type of scorpio, but rather raw, blunt, and feisty (sometimes quite impatient). ✨Sun square NN: Problems with ego and soul, It is recommended to do spiritual practices here that allow to tame (dominate/transcend) the ego, because the ego here can play a rather hindering role in the evolution of the individual because doesn't want to disappear: fear of letting go, attachment, immature rebelliousness. ✨Pluto conjunct Chiron generation(s): have problems with real self love, because they try to love themselves first without knowing themselves, which generates quite arrogant, immature, lack of integrity and demanding people/personalities (crystal generation). ✨Mars square Moon: explosive anger(like bakugo's type), very fiery, hot, extremely passionate, mood swings, they have to learn to channel that strong energy by doing something physical like running, yoga, exercise, swimming, martial arts, and at the same time connect them with their emotions otherwise that energy can go to extremes such as violence, anguish or overindulgence. ✨Mars opposite Part of Fortune: Gives Mars in Aries type of behavior. +18 ✨Mars aspecting Saturn: Here I am going to share something intimate and an easter egg(for men): I know that this position could indicate small d*ck, but there are so many natural ways/exercises to make it grow bigger that if you do them in a saturnian way (this means with discipline, effort, persistence and persevering) you will be "rewarded" For example in my case(mars trine saturn): A few years ago I had it 5 inches and now I have it almost 8 inches. So everything is possible. ✨Mars in Taurus or Taurus degrees(2, 14, 26): could suffer from premature ejaculation(P.E). They might overload any of their 5 senses during s*x just to increase s*nsual pl*asure... Since 5 senses here are so strong, they have to learn to manage/channel their s*xual energy throughout their whole body, mind and spirit so that the energy is not only concentrated in the g*nital area, which is what causes premature ej*culation. If they do this, they can become very good in bed and even last a long time satisfying each of the 5 senses of their partner and of him at the same time in the encounter. ✨Mars in Aries or Aries degrees(1, 13, 25): Something similar happens with Mars in Taurus but instead here the problem is quickness and selfishness, which could cause s*x to be short and fast, although they are very hot and intense so here the time does not matter but the intensity of the encounter is what satisfies them. Here they are like the partner who likes rough s*x, quickies and if they set their minds to it, they can last a long time since they have a lot of energy/stamina. ✨Mars in leo but in cancer degrees(4, 16, 28): have mommy issues, is very k*nky, childish, they are quite comfortable to be around since they have a dominating aura but in a very maternal way, its like very protective energy, they could be very lazy, they have a lot of drive but they will start only if they feel like it(cancer influence), much of his drive goes to things that give him comfort and nurture him. ✨I have seen that much of what our mars and venus desire s*xually it is very superficial since they make up our personality and ego. And if you want to see what it is that you s*xually desire most deeply, look at your 8th house, even if it is empty, that can say a lot too. Since the 8th house represents our hidden side, it also represents our intimacy at soul level (that's the deep side of scorpio) like all water houses. So in the periods of life where you follow the s*xual desires of your Mars and Venus and you feel empty, remember that they will only fill your ego/persona which always leaves a feeling of emptiness inside that unconsciously makes you go for more, because the ego can never be filled. If you really want to have your s*xual life on another level, in a higher vibration, more spiritual, more transcendental, more healing, more nutritious and full, look at your water houses (4th house, 8th house, and 12th house) or where you have Cancer, Scorpio and Pisces in your chart since s*xuality(sacral chakra) is the water element of our human bodies.