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#and catch those northern lights
unchartedthelostlegacy · 11 months
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ND better put out some post-Lost Legacy content even if it’s not a fucking game because. My headcanons are getting stupider. What if Nadine used the combined 50% of her tusk finder’s fee from the Ministry of Culture and the auction money from unloading Shoreline’s remaining vehicles, munitions, and other assets and bought an alpaca farm in Iceland. 
Just. why do you people put up with this shit. I’ve written a few hundreds words about it already in drafts. Why would that Burberry-wearing ex-mercenary leader want to clean up after farm animals. i’ve spent too much time in Story of Seasons, my loves are merging, my streams are crossing, the brainworms have won
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bucknastysbabe · 1 month
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hello hello lovely
saw that your requests were still open, and I’m craving Aegon. need your precious writing to revamp my love for him 💓
could I request chubby!Aegon where the reader becomes jealous and he makes it up to her? don’t have anything specific in mind just along those lines. I need that big boy to grovel 🫠
thank you, appreciate you 💋
- @lovelykhaleesiii xo
Anything for you my helina🥰🥰loved writing this
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Rating: Explicit
Tags: TW: mention of overeating, mentioned weight gain, chubby!aegon, au!no war, northern reader, pwp, Aegon being aegon, breeding kink, pnv!sex, certified boob man aeg ii, lactation kink mentioned, creampie
Taglist: @arcielee @aemonds-holy-milk @lovelykhaleesiii @dr-aegon @starogeorgina @jamespotterismydaddy @elaratyrell @zaldritzosrose @sugarpoppss2 @saintaegon @fairysluna @targaryen-madness
Aegon could put on a farce with the best of the mummers. He was all smiles and drunken japes at dinner. Talking, eating, talking, eating, and his favorite— drinking. Your husband’s abilities appeared to grow along with his new titles. He was a king now and certainly filled the part.
You sat next to him with a pinched face, carefully sipping your wine. Aemond looked on with barely concealed disgust, sharp features twitching. He raised a brow at you, jerking his sharp chin toward your husband. Aemond’s need for control might be worse than your own. The king was the king, there was not much you could do outside the bedroom. Aegon was chatting with Lord Jason Lannister. You despised the Westerman and what he represented, the Northron blood in you appalled at the South’s materialism.
Jason snorted, “Well, you’ve heard of the petulant princess down in Dorne hm? Fashions herself the new Nymeria. Heard she’s quite beautiful.”
Aegon replied around a gulp of wine, “Is it them or the Iron Islanders that take on all those wives? She can join my harem. I do know the Dornish are easy, much easier than mine own wife.” He leaned forward on thick arms to jest, “Pray tell, what’s this Martell’s name? Mayhaps I’ll send a letter.”
The pair guffawed. You quietly put your cup down and excused yourself. Aegon called after you between his giggles, “My love! Come on! Take a damn joke, yeah?”
You seethed, blood icy at his embarrassing behavior. He knew better than to insult you, his queen, the one he came crying to when times got hard. Your kingsguard filtered in behind you, scrambling to catch up. Ser Darklyn’s questions were ignored.
Safe in your chambers, you pulled down the kady bar. Rage unfurled beneath your skin— you would not show it to him. You never did unless it was a slap to his full cheeks. A tear fell, the droplet smacked away like a pest. You’d go to sleep, Aegon could wait until you’d calmed.
“Fucker. Southron cock-gargler.”
As expected, his familiar presence came to crawling. Well, flopping onto your bed with his weight, the ropes creaking as he cursed lowly. Aegon cursed, “Fuckin’ damn- beds!” You jerked up your legs, sitting upright to light a candle, blinking the little sleep out of your eyes.
The blonde frowned at the dim light, chubby cheeks pooching at the movement. He wore a simple linen shirt and breeches, white hair all mussed. You frowned at your thoughts turning soft, as your lord husband looked handsome in the gentle lighting.
Aegon murmured, thick fingers circling your ankle, “Are you upset? I was merely joking.”
“No, go on, take a mistress from every great house if you so desire, my king.”
His violet eyes rolled at your acrid reply, the man coming closer to your position. He sighed, “I don’t plan on it, why would I do that?” Narrowing your eyes, you threw a pillow at his head to escape further across the bed. Aegon grunted as he was pelted, the blonde casted a bewildered look your way, brows pinched.
“I don’t want to hear it, that was shameful to speak as if I were not there, go away Aegon,” you hissed.
He groaned loudly, hand running through his wild waves. The king asked, face dead serious “Do I need to beg? Hm? My frozen queen of the north is the only one I’m fucking. Sweetling wants to see me grovel?”
Your stomach fluttered at the thought, eyes flicking to his earnest expression across the bed. You sniffed quietly, holding out a hand, “Yes. I want you to beg for me. Then maybe I’ll forget the slight. You talk like such a whore at the table yet you forget who rules your cock.”
He moaned, eyes rolling at the words before taking your hand and lowering himself with a grunt. Aegon looked up through his lashes, plump lips pink and perfect. He murmured, “Can’t believe you. Lady wants me to grovel. All I do is think about my wife day and night.”
You stared him down, pleased so far.
“I’m not seeing anyone, nor do I care to. I’m not some young little slip anymore. Too busy eating your cunt than diving into every hole up the street of silk, yeah? Maybe that’s why I can’t close my belt?”
You moaned, “I didn’t make you, ah, you do that Aegon.”
“Mhm, that’s why you slide me extra cake. Now, what was I saying,” he was kissing an ankle now, carefully holding your leg, “Why would I go get some bratty Dornish nymphet, or any other lady for that matter? I’ve fucked a babe into you twice now. It’s a bit intoxicating watching you ripen up with my seed.”
You whined at that, resolved to break soon. Being pregnant with the children was some of your fondest moments. Some most erotic from your insatiable husband. His increased weight? Likely came from him drinking your tits up every night before each babe.
Aegon hummed, eyes blown with lust, lips at your knee. The king rasped, “I’d like to fuck more into you tonight if you’ll forgive me, I only love my queen. Always and truly ever you, sweeting. Mayhaps twins? Your teats will be quite ripe for me then.”
You gasped and pulled his shoulders, Aegon already knew the intention as he hiked up your shift and yanked it off. In a flurry of movement, you pulled at the strings on his breeches while he exposed his thickened body. He was stout, not necessarily a true softling. It made the king more intimidating, with wide hips and a sturdy midsection. You loved it.
“Uh-huh, you’re gonna fuck twins into me? That’s a way to make up for being an absolute t-twat.”
You tried to hiss but there was no real heat, especially with his soft lips against your neck, gluttonous hands on your tits. Aegon pressed your naked form into the bed, his flushed cock snug against your thigh. Delicate white hair tickled at your neck as you squirmed. The king’s bulk had you utterly pinned, stocky thighs keeping your legs open.
He nipped at thin skin, laughing, “Where’s all the cold anger hm? Needed to be coddled and warmed up? You’re no better than me, love.”
Another shiver ran up your spine, goosebumps erupting atop your skin. You hooked a leg around his cushy waist and gritted, “Kiss me dammit. You were the ass here.” He laughed again, lips searching your own, the familiar plush a balm to your stung pride.
You opened up for him, lips lazily caressing against Aegon’s more insistent kisses, tongue bullying its way in. He gripped at your waist, rutting a few times against your cunt. The bulbous tip catching your clit made you whine and cling to his fleshy sides.
The Targaryen breathed, “Never takes you long to get all nice and slick for me huh? Turn your nose up but your pussy gets wet. Every. Damn. Time.” He punctuated his words with jerks of his hips and grinned as you cursed his name, arching into his soft belly.
You rolled back against him, demanding, “Enough talk, you’re here to make it up. Ah, careful,” you chastised as he pulled one of your tits up to bite at your budded nipple, “Fuck me dammit! Breed me up then!”
Aegon grinned sharply, cooing, “Why didn’t you just say so, dearest? I’ll make sure you take it all.”
He shoved a pillow under your flared hips, pressing gentler kisses on any available skin. Aegon huffed as he jerked his hand under a heavy stomach to grab his cock, guiding it into your soaked cunt. Your knees tightened up around him, exhaling a shaky moan.
He never failed to fill you up perfectly, with a girthy cock that he well knew how to use. Aegon groaned, lashes fluttering as he bottomed out, “Mmm, fuck, always so godsdamn soaked for your king.” One of his big hands clapped down on your ass— you threw your head back as he began to fuck you in earnest.
Aegon was an…excitable lover. He was mouthy and rough, a true passion of his to empty his balls into cunt. Thankfully, it was yours and yours only for the past years. You panted against his soft jaw, nipping at the flesh as he stretched your walls out, tip dragging against the tender ridges and spongey spots.
He angled you further, allowing his lower tummy to rub and stifle your bundle of nerves. You cried out his name, heaving as Aegon paid no heed, single-minded determination across his face. Shivers wracked your spine, shooting down your spread legs.
“Mhm, that’s my baby, shaking all over, needed my cock to settle you down? You say I’m needy. Yet your body screams for more.”
“F-fuck Aegon, quit it, oh gods!”
He took your lips again, sweat building up between you two as passions grew frantic. You keened. “Breed me, love, want more babes, make me yours again and again- hnn- mm!” Blood suffused your face, irritably hot as you registered the wanton pleas.
Aegon doubled down, hands pressing your thighs up, bending your stimulated frame. His belly still sat heavily on your clit, sparks of pleasure muddling any sort of coherence. Aegon was panting now, hair damp with exertion. He growled, “Yeah, yeah, gonna keep you full mama, let the kingdom see how well my queen takes my seed. Gods, gods, fucking hell, gonna fill you up. Plug ya’ so you don’t leak.”
You whimpered as your belly was awash with intense sensation, bundling nerves ready to fire. Aegon’s rambling about you being his perfect queen and good mama throttled you to the precipice, pussy clamping down on his cock. You wanted it all, your cunt was milking him for it. Seeking that hot feeling of his spend coating your sore insides.
“Fucking others!,” came your howl— your delirious thoughts catapulting you into gushing all over Aegon with a squeal. The king stuttered and cursed, a broken moan leaving swollen lips. He surged forward, dragging his tip against your cervix, face cutely scrunching as he emptied, shaking and moaning your name.
His spend was molten hot and overfilling your cunt, Aegon selfishly feeling around the side of the bed, crushing your overwhelmed body. He whined, “Fuuh-uck, love, feel too good, hold on.” You furrowed your brows before surprise hit your features.
That motherfucker was going to plug you up.
His lidded eyes danced as he drawled, “I wanted twins, mama.”
You squirmed and mewled when his cock left and a cold wedge replaced it. He shushed and pet you, kissing you tenderly as you grew used to the foreign object. You could feel his seed stuffed inside— trying not to dwell on it so hard. Aegon flopped onto his back, pulling your body snugly against his soft, warm one. You murmured, “That was some hell of an apology. Bastard.”
He sleepily murmured, “M’sorry dove, was mean. I’ll do better,” he squeezed you tight and planted a kiss on the crown of your head, “Only for my queen. Mmh, pray to your old gods— papa wants twins.”
You snorted, biting back laughter at his outright silly statement.
“Mhm Papa, prayers coming up. Sot.”
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talesofesther · 6 months
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what once was mine | ch 7
Loki x Reader
Series Summary: When watching what once was supposed to be the rest of his life, in an empty room in the TVA, Loki sees someone he can't recognize; a girl who's all tenderness and loose smiles, and most importantly, she was smiling at him.
A/N: I apologize in advance lol.
Masterlist | Read ch 6 here
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Your feet buried in the sand, just inches from the gentle waves crashing to shore. You could smell the salt in the air, feel it on your skin as the wind carried droplets of water until it reached you. The sun kissed the horizon of the ocean beside you, painting the waves in streaks golden.
This was possibly your favorite thing about New Asgard, the ocean.
Or, second favorite, you thought, as you squeezed the hand holding your own.
"And Thor wouldn't listen to me, of course," Loki continued the story, his feet burying in the sand just as yours did. One of his hands interlocked with yours, the other holding his shoes. "Not until the whole tent came crashing down on him."
You giggled, the soft wind carried your laughter and messed up your hair, "Thor never was the brightest at learning our 'contraptions', as he would call them."
"No, I guess not," Loki mused, a smile of his own lingering on his lips.
You looked up at him then, watching as the fading sunlight reflected against his bright eyes and shaped the curves of his smile. You'd never tire of the sight, of him by your side.
"You should come with us next time," Loki suggested, apparently just as lost in you as you were in him.
"Camping?" You raised a brow.
Loki nodded, stopping in his tracks. He dropped his shoes to the sand without a second thought, so he could take hold of both your hands. "You'd make it better."
His voice, however, began to sound far away. You frowned, looking around as the golden sunlight seeped away, making room for a grey and stormy sky. The wind picked up speed, cutting into your skin like needles. The sea, once calm and serene, now raged and thundered against the shoreline.
"You always do." Suddenly, Loki's voice was nothing but an echo.
You didn't have time to hold him tighter before his hands were snatched away from yours.
Stumbling forward, you tried running after him, but the sand began to swallow your feet. Panic settled into your chest and got your heart racing.
You looked up, but you shouldn't have.
His eyes were bloodshot, his feet held off the ground as he struggled against the bruising grip on his neck. When Loki looked into your eyes, tears were running down both your cheeks. Blood trailed down his mouth as he choked for a breath. "Run," it was a plea, so quiet and weak past his lips.
The last thing you heard was a sickening crack.
You woke up with a scream lingering on your lips, sitting up on your bed and already clawing at your chest for the air that you desperately needed yet couldn't get a hold of. You didn't know if you were sobbing or coughing, perhaps a bit of both.
The tears were non-stop, dripping down your chin and dampening the collar of your pajama shirt. You threw the covers away from your body, feeling trapped on your skin. Burying your head on your trembling hands, you did your best to try and catch your breath.
It had been a while since you've had a nightmare this haunting.
─── ·❆· ───
You felt numb. The day began and you couldn't feel anything besides the emptiness in your chest. Foolishly, you had thought you'd finally outgrew the bad memories, the grief. You wondered if you ever would.
As you walked through the hallways of the TVA, you thought back to yesterday; to the rain, the northern lights, and him. He who had those same dark curls, those same bright eyes, and alabaster skin that you saw in your dreams and nightmares. Each day it became harder and harder to believe the lie you insisted on telling yourself.
As if on cue, you heard the stomping of someone running to catch up with you.
"Good morning," Loki greeted, just a tad out of breath as he fell into step beside you.
You closed your eyes for a moment after hearing his voice. Gulping down the lump in your throat, you nodded without looking at him. "Morning."
Loki noticed, he felt the shift in the mood, heard it in your tone. You know he did, because he hesitated. "Um-" He tried to start; you could perfectly picture his eyes being unable to find a place to focus even if you weren't looking.
"I've been thinking," he tried again, and you could hear the tentative smile on his words, "For the next time you manage to borrow Mobius' tempad, I- I have a place I would like to show you, if you'd like."
There were tears brimming in your eyes. You weren't sure why. Maybe because this was such a Loki way for him to try and ask you out. Maybe because you could feel your heart melting for him as it found its home again after being in the cold for so long, and that terrified you.
"Yeah…" You cursed under your breath when your voice came out broken and strained. You cleared your throat. "I don't know when he'll let me borrow it again, so," you shrugged, quickening your steps, "I guess we'll see."
Loki fell behind just for the time it took for him to mull over your words. It didn't take much effort for him to match your pace again. "Yes, of course."
The sadness dripping from his voice made your heart clench. You didn't want to hurt him. But you didn't want to hurt yourself either.
Finally reaching your desk in your secluded nook of the library, you immediately busied yourself with threading over the fresh stack of documents resting on top of it. Pointedly avoiding Loki's concerned look.
"I can help you with those," Loki suggested, already reaching for a spare chair.
"You really don't have to," You tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, turning on your table lamp.
"I want to," he told you with that softness reserved for you only. "We can finish it twice as fast and maybe stop for tea-"
"Loki, stop!" You suddenly snapped, finally turning to look at him. "Can you just leave me alone for one goddamn second?" You hadn't meant for your voice to come out as harsh as it did.
Loki lowered his head so you weren't able to see the pang of hurt in his eyes. His hand went limp as he slowly let go of the chair. Still, he took a step closer to you and asked; "Are you alright? Did something happen?"
Of course he would be able to tell. Of course he'd put your pain above his own.
You surrendered the facade with a sigh, and a single tear rolled down your cheek. "I keep seeing…" It was difficult to think of it, let alone say it. You closed your eyes. "The day I lost him, I- I keep seeing it over and over. Even after all this time."
You had gotten better, for a while, keeping busy in the TVA had somewhat helped. But you knew you only buried the feeling, never dealt with it. And then Loki—this Loki, the one who would be yours—found his way to you, and everything crumbled again. Those bright eyes of his were still the same you've always known, after all; and between the memories you had together that only you had lived, and the way his soul tangled with yours as if they never parted, you didn't know what to feel.
Your chin wobbled and a sob fell past your lips. "And I just want it to stop hurting… I just him back."
Seeing you like this, it hurt. Loki took half a step closer to you, his glassy eyes gauging every twitch of your muscles. If you told him to leave, he would, even if it's the last thing he wanted. Your pain pierced his soul like an arrow, tearing and making it bleed. More than anything, he found himself only wanting you to be okay.
No names were needed. Loki knew, just from the way you were adamantly refusing to look at him; he knew you were talking about… him.
Carefully, testing tentative waters, Loki reached for one of your hands. He held his breath when you tensed as his skin touched yours. His fingers closed gingerly around your wrist and he pulled your hand up with a gentleness he didn't know he was capable of.
You let him. You weren't sure why, but you did.
Loki brought your hand to rest above his chest, flat against his beating heart, and held it there, with his own hand still grasping yours tightly. He hesitated. He was afraid, he realized. Afraid of losing you.
Only when Loki opened his lips to speak, did he taste his own tears that had fallen. "I'm here." It was nothing but a breath. "I promise. I'm here." He tried, it was all he could give you; himself.
You clutched the fabric of his shirt, fingers shaking. You leaned your forehead against his shoulder as another sob escaped you. As the waves pulled you under.
In a place out of time, time stood still. For a precious second, only you and him existed.
You looked up after what felt like an eternity, your lips hovering as you struggled to hold his gaze. "But you're not him." The half smile that stretched the tear tracks on your cheeks held nothing but sorrow.
As if ripping apart a piece of his soul, Loki reluctantly let go of your hand. "What is it you have against me?" He whispered, pleaded.
You'd never seen him this vulnerable. His ocean eyes glimmered under the dim artificial lights of the library, eyebrows pulled softly together in what looked more like loss than confusion.
"And what is it you have with me?" You found yourself whispering back, just as desperate. "For you, we never met." Your voice broke and then dripped with frustration, "You have nothing to lose. So what is it that you want from me?"
It was selfish to put the blame on him, just because he brought back the same warmth you've been missing for so long. But you were hurting, and broken things tend to have sharp edges.
Loki's lips hovered open and he shifted his gaze down, almost as if ashamed. He held the silence for a beat longer. "I guess I just…" He stopped, and forced himself to look into your eyes. "I saw how much you loved your Loki… I think I was jealous, and I was selfish, for wanting the same thing he was lucky enough to have." His smile was that of someone who knew when he'd lost. "You."
All emotion drained from your face. It felt like a bucket of icy water being dropped on top of you.
Had Loki actually fallen in love with you?
For a moment you wondered if, in every reality and every lifetime, you were destined to fall for each other. As the universe's own twisted version of soulmates.
You would've laughed at such a sweet thought, if it hadn't just made your heartbeat skyrocket. Because deep down, you knew you'd fallen for him as well. Again. As you always knew you would.
In every lifetime. As you promised you would.
And it terrified you, because what if you were destined to fall, yet also destined to lose?
"I'm sorry," you breathed, tasting the salt of your tears on your lips. You took staggered steps away from Loki. "I'm sorry, I- I can't."
I'm sorry, I don't know if I can pick myself back up if I ever lose you again. So I'd rather not have you at all.
"Please, I-" Loki started, yet he didn't know what he was pleading for.
But you shook your head vehemently. "I need," your voice stumbled, "I'm sorry- I just need a moment alone."
You turned around then, walking away and taking Loki's heart with you. His eyes refused to watch you leave again, luckily he had tears to blur the memory.
⋆* ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
Ch 8 coming soon.
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3
You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.
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gremlingottoosilly · 7 months
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The horror and the wild [!emperor!Konig x fem!Reader] ch.5
You had a nice, simple life. Serve the princess, obey the princess, protect the princess with your life. You never thought that this nice, simple life would bring you to be kidnapped by the infamous Northern Emperor. Konig never thought that kidnapping a wife would be much easier than courting one.
CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 2| Chapter 3| Chapter 4| Chapter 5l you're here! AO3
Word count: 3188 Tags/Warnings: Medieval fantasy/Alternative European history AU, Age gap, Enemies(one-sided)to lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Forced marriage, Size difference(Konig is absolutely huge), Somewhat one-sided slow burn, Yandere Konig
Warnings for this chapter: Predator/Prey kink, mild choking
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Little princess doesn’t know what’s good for her. Little princess is dumb and naive and oh, so deliciously weak, it makes Konig sick just how much he adores her pouty face, her aggressive expressions, and that squeak in her voice every time he does something to embarrass her – which he does, a lot, in fact. Quite aware of how his war dog lingo would affect an innocent young lady like his precious dearest darling illustrious wife, he uses it to hi advantage – when you have your lady cornered, heavy panting and cumming from your tongue and your fingers in her tight royal cunt, she wouldn’t be able to open her mouth for something meaningless, right? Thou shall not think as thou would be a sin against god. 
Emperor is a sinner, but he still believes that you shall always follow the religious instructions – as if not ever trying to oppose him and speak like you have the right to think in his presence. Perhaps, his devotion to making you weak and pliable in his arms is what led to this situation. 
Little princess doesn’t know what’s good for her, so little princess runs. 
You might brag about your best education and most elegant courses for women you attended in the palace – but he knows just how empty your adorable little head is, because you had no idea how much the thrill of the hunt turns him on. 
You’re nowhere to be found, escaped through the window of the room you were stationed in – it was his mistake, assigning you a place from which you could jump so easily. Next time, he will cuff you to his bedpost, like a loyal palace dog lying on his legs. Next time, he will make sure to love you so eagerly that your legs won’t work for at least a few days. 
He doesn’t even need his hunting dogs to catch you. Horangi offers his help, Tiger so eager to come out and play with a little princess, perhaps maul her a bit, showing the royal cunt what she deserves for disrespecting her emperor and his subjects – but oh no, this won’t do. König needs to discipline you himself, track your scent like the hound he is, and get you back to your wedding bed with your body in his teeth. 
Woe on you, dumb little princess, as your emperor considers escape attempts the richest form of courting. 
Following you through the forest near the castle, your footsteps are clear in the mud and dirt – a piece of your dress serves as a grinding light. Your scent, delicious sweetness, and fresh flower oils maid had infused you with made it laughably easier to find you. He can almost see the glimpses of your body running through the woods – god, he knew that he wanted you and was right about taking you away. 
How can he resist a wedding gift from his bride who wants to play tag? He follows you like a madman, a dog, he sees through trees, trying to see where you could run. The deep golden brown of your dress almost made you look like a forest spirit standing in the depths of the woods – if it weren’t for König’s trained eye, he would rather mistake you for a tree. Or a particularly precious deer. 
He licks his lips, a wolf approaching the bunny he was hunting for so long – you run away, still try to. These dumb skirts aren’t made for running away from your fiancee in a forest – you can barely walk in those, poor thing. You take a step back, panicking, squawking from fear, as he approaches you as slowly as possible. 
Perhaps, if he gives you one more chance to run, it would make the chase even more precious. 
He is used to hunting with his royal hounds, with a group of his closest friends by his side – war hawks helping hunt for prey, the animal snifters making the whole process laughably easy. He doesn’t have anyone for the company now. 
Only you, him, and wilderness – and his adoring love for everything you do. 
— Stop resisting, little princess.
You whimper, but your little annoyed expression makes him only harder. Hell, how he adores your frown, how much he wants to kiss your face right now – god knows he is holding himself back these days. Little princess doesn’t deserve to get her innocence taken on her back, legs open on the dirt of the royal forest – but sometimes you act like a good lashing, and some passionate mating is the only thing that would keep you in line. 
He yells in your direction, hoping that even that dumb head of yours has some sense in it – the chase is fun, and he would continue it more until you’re completely unraveled under him, exhausted and defeated – but, oh, your silly desire to be free has led you to the edge of the lake. Dancing on the shaky, soft sands and warm mud of the pond, your clothes leave you with very small chances of getting out of here in one piece. 
He doesn’t want to be the bringer of doom, but just one sleep, a nervous movement that you can’t control – and the little princess of his dreams will come flying in the dark waters. Even if your royal majesty knows how to swim, the heavy fabrics of your garments would be declared as your executioners. 
You look so fragile like this – your skirt is lifted, showing your pretty ankles, as you’re trying to jump from stone to stone, as far away from him as possible. You’re scared, only reminding him more of the bunnies he used to hunt as a kid – and he is almost offended that you’d prefer that risk of drowning over getting in the hands of your husband again, but alas, princesses are usually not the smartest creatures on the planet. 
— I’d rather die, Your Majesty. 
You bite your lips and look at him, so stubborn and cute – the feelings in him rise, your arrogant expression making the thrill of the hint ever sweeter. God, he cannot control himself around you like this – you should stop trying to make yourself sweeter for him, he already wants to keep you chained in his bed and never let you go. 
You’re so…
Ach. 
His path of thought is stopped by the splash of water. 
Dumb thing, you really decided to make the most of your words – like a cornered animal, you jumped in the lake, getting to the bottom almost immediately. Your dress is heavy and expensive, all the weight of the fabrics pinning you down in elaborate execution. Your emperor stands on the small beach, looking at the water circles going from where you fell…and then he jumps straight after you. 
The last thing you remembered before the world went dark was the scream of a man who, for the first time in his life, had experienced genuine fear. 
*** You wake up warm – and naked. 
No wet clothes, no heavy dress lingering on your skin like a soft coffin. 
You’re as naked as the day you were born, shivering despite the warmness of the room and the crackling of fire somewhere near you. You remember this room – a royal bedroom, quickly made as your quarters when you moved to this god-forsaken castle. Empire has some horribly extensive architecture, and this room, big, stony, and expelled of any decor, has only made you feel regret ever waking up. 
You wished to wake up in the cold embrace of your Princess – but you open your eyes and see this room over and over again. Why couldn’t death come sooner? 
— It was incredibly stupid even for you, little princess. 
König sits on the edge of the bed. A future husband shouldn’t sit like this, resembling a servant who is scared for the health of his misstress. His eyes are filled with cold fury and other emotions that you can’t quite grasp – you don’t want to look at his face too much as even the mere glimpse is making you uncomfortable. God knows you are not in the mood for trying to talk to your captor. 
God knows he doesn’t care about your wishes. 
— If you can only provide me freedom in case of my death…
— You will not be free after your death. 
You sigh, shocked – your brain isn’t nearly ready for this information when you just almost died. You shift in your bed, trying to pretend that you accidentally fell asleep – but the emperor pushes his hand on your cheek, warm fingers lingering on the cold skin. You sigh quietly, sealing his warmth. 
You fight the desire to nuzzle in his palm like an obedient little pet. 
— It’s not for you to decide, Your Majesty. I should be allowed to die on my own accord. 
— I'm entitled to your life, my bride. Don’t make me remind you of this, ja? 
— I would rather… 
— I can deliver death to you, little one. In a verdammt heartbeat. 
His hand goes from a warm presence on your cheek to an angry squeeze of your neck – you cough when he continues to shut your breath, fluttering of your neck in his grasp only makes your defeat even sweeter. König has you right where he wants it – under him, holding firmly in his grasp like some exotic bird he picked up from his travels. 
Lack of air makes you dizzy – as ironic as it sounds, you feel airheaded, hands clinging to his massive palm in a poor attempt to make him let you go. You whimper, you cry, you feel death all too soon – you want to die, of course, maybe, willingly meeting in hell with the royalty you had sworn to serve, but you don’t want to be killed. Tears run down your cheeks when you finally see the other side of him – out of control, angry, worse even than the conqueror you saw when you first met. 
You feel replaceable and small – he squeezes your throat like you aren’t his bride like you don’t mean anything to him, and, yes, it makes you feel hurt. Vulnerable as ever, your manicured nails have zero power over him – he only laughs at your helpless expression. For a second, it makes you think this is it – the last thing you would ever see is the cold anger in the eyes of your emperor. 
When your vision finally got blurry enough so you could not see anything anymore, König softly lowered his face closer to you, lifting the bottom part of his weird, strange hood. Smothering you with his lips, delivering the air you were craving for – if only to make himself feel even more in control. You’re lightheaded and a bit dumb, still, your mind is too delirious to actually understand anything that is happening around you. 
His lips are warm and dry, you steal air from his lungs with each second – you feel the energy feeling you up again, eyes are finally set enough to see at least some part of his face. Chiseled chin, covered in scars, tanned skin – you’re surprised that he is not as pale as you thought he must be, with his love for the masks. 
His veins are dark and rotten – you don’t understand how he can survive with his blood looking like this, but the dark tendrils of his body almost make him more of a curiosity than an actual human being. It’s only his lips that are still holding you in realms of the living. You don’t want to think of the implications and gossip you heard from some servants that were allowed to go out – allowed to witness the growth of the empire that was soon to eat you all. 
König finally lets go of your mouth when you start falling asleep again. You don’t allow him to simply cover his lips with his hood again though – your hands are heading to lend on his neck, fingers tracing the outlines of his veins. 
A medical curiosity, this emperor – you squeeze the rot of his neck, and he moans like you just did something that he liked too much. 
It’s only fitting that he has the body of a monster – for all he is done, you wouldn't be surprised if his head actually resembles the one of an octopus from silly books you were reading or a mess of dark tendrils, wiggling and swarming. Your delirious, oxygen-deprived mind still wants to touch him more, to satisfy your curiosity in all the more fitting ways. Maybe take your research a bit further down to see if he truly is a man down there. 
But oh well, you saw his body before – although you never as much as paid attention to that detail. Did he change in a few days that passed? Does his veins start to spew out darkness because he is…
He crushed your hand in his, almost making you feel a crack in your dainty lady fingers. God forbid you feel like your hands are being torn apart. 
— Never try to defy me like this again. 
He spews the words with anger than would be fitting for the enemy – and he is, for you, but you were sure that he didn’t consider you one of them. The contrast with his soft actions earlier, you can feel tears collecting in your eyes as he slowly lets go of your hand. 
Not knowing what to do, you roll to the side, burning desire to never see his face – or lack thereof – ever again. Like an angry cat that doesn’t know how to stop biting, you feel like you’re going to cry again and again. 
You whimper, trying to escape the haunting gaze of his eyes – and his face softens, if only for a bit. He presses his hand against your damp forehead, checking the temperature. You don’t want to forgive him just yet – for anything at this matter, but he is soft at this moment, and somehow, it is almost enough. Somehow, you almost feel like you can breathe again. 
— I was so scared, little princess. I don’t like being scared. 
You laugh dryly, your face is still deep in the pillow. You are trying to ignore the beast, but the beast decided that you’re his best option for a nice free snack. Beast decided to take off some of his clothes – you don’t see it, but you hear the sound of fabric hitting the floor, and you don’t want to even think how much it cost. 
You try to cover your naked body with the silk sheets of your bed, but soft fabric only entices your desires in a way that can only be called sinful. You remember the sensation of his tongue between your legs, your desire to simply run out of your skin because of how good it felt – each stroke made you strive further and further away from your duties. Like a good little maid you are, a perfect lady in waiting, waiting for her demise, you have to ignore all the mortal pleasures. 
If you want the royal family to truly forgive you in their graves, you would have to join them. Perhaps, you gave up on drowning too fast. 
— It wasn’t my intention. 
He shifts, the bed is too small for someone like him. You feel his legs, clothed, thank god, touching your naked thighs – and you immediately stir to the further side. You keep your arms and legs in check, getting into a small ball of limbs as you’re trying to comfort yourself without his touch. You don’t want to admit it, but König is warm, warmer than you thought he had the right to be, and you’re freezing. The phantom feeling of cold water on your skin is making you shiver. 
— What were your intentions then? 
If the emperor knows about manners and how a fiancee should behave around his bride that he didn’t even consummate the marriage, he is ignoring that knowledge. Large hands pinning you to his chest, warm and firm – to your utter dread, he took off the armor plates and even the simple shirt under it, making you helplessly squish your cheek against his muscles. He smells like a man, and you never knew you’d feel that smell in your life. 
You don’t hate it. 
— You killed by parents, Your Majesty. 
He only laughs, his hand goes to stroke your back. This is a contrast with his coldness before – he is soft and warm with you, and you hate that you don’t hate it. Gigantic palm goes to settle between your shoulder blades and you simply sigh, trying to get used to his touches. You don’t want to, but a good servant should adapt to everything, so you do just that. Adapting, deforming, melding yourself in something you never knew you even could be. 
Your head hurts, and you whimper when his gentle massage relaxes your sore muscles. You hate his gentleness, you hate his firmness. 
You want him to let you go, but you don’t even know where you would go. 
— Your parents, little princess? Really? 
There is a vile mockery in his voice, and you immediately remember who this man is. Not some devoted lover and slightly obsessive romanticist – he is dangerous, horrible, he is the conqueror of your country. You may not have warm feelings about the royal family, but he doesn’t know this – his laugh and mockery of your “family” must be real. It has to be, or else you’re going to die after your deceiving has been opened. 
He pushes you even closer to him, and you whimper like a dumb little dog without any means of stopping him from touching you. There is some freedom from being exposed like this, but you still don’t like it. Still feel like he is going to murder you, given the reason. 
— If anything, my men did it. That dog you called a father did not deserve my sword. 
Anger fills your whole body – not because you were particularly close with the king, but because König is parading his mockery of your supposed family. He hugs you with hands that are covered in blood, no matter if he is just the one to give orders. 
You try to get out of his grasp, but apathy fills you. What’s the point if the royal family is dead? What’s the point if you aren’t even the real princess. 
— You will not call my father…
He makes you shut your mouth when he kisses your head. Sweet and soft, you do not understand his intentions. If anything, it feels like yet another mockery. 
— I will call him like I want, meine Liebe. And you will still be mine. 
— I won’t just take it, Your Majesty. 
He laughs again. You feel sick. 
— With our wedding tomorrow, little flower, you will have to take it. Not the last thing you’ll take on that day, little princess. 
You feel like you are going to be sick. 
König kisses you again, forcing you to sleep in his hands. 
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breelandwalker · 1 year
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Strawberry Moon - June 3, 2023
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Grab your baskets and your moon jars, witches - it's time for the Strawberry Moon!
Strawberry Moon
The Strawberry Moon is the name given to the full moon which occurs in the month of June in the Northern Hemisphere. The name is taken from the ripening of those little red heart-shaped berries we find in so many summertime treats. Strawberries are typically ready to harvest beginning around the summer solstice, though this will vary depending on variety, planting times, and local weather. The Strawberry Moon, sadly, does not turn pink to match the berries.
Other European names for this moon include Honey Moon, Rose Moon, and Mead Moon. Indigenous names for the June moon include Blooming Moon (Anishinaabe), Green Corn Moon (Cherokee), and Hatching Moon (Cree).
What Does It Mean For Witches?
Full moons are excellent times for bringing wishes to fulfillment and plans to fruition, all the more so under one named after a prolific berry. This is an optimal time to make things happen!
Your intuition may be stronger than usual during this time, so pay attention to those little inklings and gut feelings that won't be ignored. They might be telling you something important. Dreams may also be more vivid, though not necessarily more accurate or revealing.
This is a time to explore things that catch your attention or pique your curiosity, and to let yourself be open to new ideas and new opportunities.
What Witchy Things Can We Do?
With a full moon in the sky and the summer solstice hot on its' heels, it's time to prepare for a full bloom. Here's hoping you've been nurturing those plans and seeds of growth you planted in the spring, because they're about to start flowering and the way is clear to sow the next stage of your plans. What they will be and what new prospects the summer will bring is entirely up to you.
With the moon in Sagittarius again this year, it's a good time to look ahead to the future. Think on the plans you have in process and let yourself dream of how things might turn out. If you're inclined to journaling, make a note of how things are going so far and how you hope they'll turn out. Pick your favorite divination method and do a reading for the month ahead. (Make sure you write that down too so you can check back later!)
This is a great time to go berry-picking or flower-gathering, so check your area for pick-your-own farms or farmer's markets with local produce. Have a picnic with friends or just enjoy a quiet afternoon with your own thoughts and a few favorite treats. Make a jar of sun tea or a sweet and summery berry salad. If you're partial to strawberries, indulge that sweet tooth!
Strawberries are also excellent ingredient in spells for love, beauty, fertility, and emotional healing. Create a charm for self-love or perhaps to attract a summer romance. Enchant your favorite makeup or skin care products with a glamour of confidence. Just as expectant mothers once carried strawberry leaves as a folk remedy for pregnancy pains, you can carry a clutch of them in your pocket to help heal a broken heart or assuage the pain of grief. A packet of strawberry leaves is also a potent good-luck charm. Snack on strawberries to bring fertile abundance into your life, whether you're looking for creativity or opportunity or perhaps hoping to grow your family this year.
Charge your crystals and spell jars and moon water under the light of Strawberry Moon to catch the energy of blooming flowers, ripening fruit, wishes coming true, and carefully-laid plans realized. (If you're planning to use it for any consumables, please make sure you're using fresh, potable drinking water rather than rain or runoff.)
Spend a little time reflecting on how your year has gone thus far. Try to focus on the things that have improved and how you've grown as a person and in your life journey. Reflect on your accomplishments and what you plan to do next. Take a moment to be unashamedly proud of yourself for everything you've done and for making it this far despite everything life throws at you.
Happy Strawberry Moon, witches! 🌕🍓
Further Reading:
Strawberry Moon: Full Moon in June 2023, The Old Farmer's Almanac
Strawberry Moon 2023: The Spectacular Spiritual Meaning of June's Full Moon, The Peculiar Brunette
Everyday Moon Magic: Spells & Rituals for Abundant Living, Dorothy Morrison
Image Source - Pesto and Margaritas
(If you're enjoying my content, please feel free to drop a little something in the tip jar or check out my published works on Amazon or in the Willow Wings Witch Shop. 😊)
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uncharismatic-fauna · 4 months
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A Shoo-in Shoebill Stork
The shoebill stork, also known as the whalebill stork or Balaeniceps rex is in fact not a stork at all, but a long-legged wading bird belonging to the family Pelecaniformes. This species can be found in the central African tropics, from southern Sudan to northern Tanzania. Within this range, they mainly inhabit freshwater swamps and dense marshes, particularly those with deep water large reed beds.
Balaeniceps rex is often referred to as a dinosaur among birds due to its fearsome appearance. The average individual stands 1.1-1.4 m (3.6-4.5 ft) tall and has a wingspan of 2.3 to 2.6 m (7.5 to 8.5 in). However, adults are quite light, weighing only 4 to 7 kg (8.8 to 15.4 lb). Males tend to be larger than females, but otherwise the two sexes look identical. Adults have dark grey plumage with a lighter belly and darker wings. Their most striking feature is their beak, which is extremely large and can be said to resemble a wooden show (hence the name).
The shoebill's beak is very useful for catching its primary prey: fish. B. rex consumes a variety of species, including lungfish, catfish, and tilapia, as well as non-fish items like water snakes, frogs, turtles, mollusks, and even young crocodiles. Shoebills typically stalk their prey, or stand perfectly still and wait for their prey to come to them, before quickly snatching it up and decapitating it with the sharp edges of their beaks. Because of their large size and strong bills, adults are seldom prey for other animals, and they defend their nests fiercely from predators like snakes and other birds.
Outside of the breeding season-- and even during it-- shoebills are extremely territorial. Not only do they chase potential predators away from their nests, both males and females will fiercely defend their territory from other shoebills.
Breeding begins in the dry season, typically in in May, and lasts until about October. Once a male and female form a pair, they remain together for the duration of the mating season. They build a nest from floating vegetation, and 1-3 eggs are cared for by both parents; in addition to being incubated for warmth, one parent may also occasionally pour a beak-full of water over the eggs to keep them cool during the hot summer day. The eggs hatch about 30 days after being laid, and young are fed continuously-- though usually only one chick survives to adulthood. At 125 days old they become fully independent and leave to establish their own territories. The average individual can live up to 35 years in the wild.
Conservation status: The IUCN lists the whalebill stork as Vulnerable. Current wild population estimates sit at about 5,000-8,000 individuals. Primary threats include poaching for the zoo trade and consumption, habitat destruction, and pollution.
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Santiago Caballero Carrera
George Amato
Mana Meadows
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dilemmaontwolegs · 6 months
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The Bucket List - Bucket Moments || CL16
Warnings: fluff WC: 1.2k Main Story || Death Scene || Two Years Later || Bucket Moments || Five Years Later
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1. Sleep under the northern lights
Charles found another blanket in the storage box and draped it over your shoulders as he joined you in the clearing. 
“Have you ever seen something so beautiful?” You asked the question quietly, fearful that your very voice could disturb the peace of the night. Overhead, green and orange light danced to the music of the universe that you could almost hear. 
“Every day,” Charles whispered too quietly for you to hear. Swallowing the lump in his throat he recorded the northern lights illuminating the wonder on your face. You were mesmerised as you reached for the colour like it was a ribbon you could catch if you were quick enough, but it slipped through your fingers. 
“Make an angel with me, Cha,” you giggled as you tossed the blanket aside and fell back into the snow. Charles fell down beside you and waved his arms like you made him do whenever he took you skiing. “I could stay frozen here forever.”
“Me too, mon ange.” 
8. Go to India for the colour festival  
“Don’t you dare,” Charles warned as you filled your fist with a dark blue powder. “Amour!”
You bent in half with the burst of laughter that cut through his faux annoyance and his own laugh joined yours. His white shirt was splattered with the colour of his biggest competitor and you grinned as you took a photo, sending it to Max. A burst of powder hit your front and you gaped at the explosion of red clouding your vision before it cleared to reveal Charles’ smug face. 
“That’s better,” he hummed as he pulled you into his arms, the colours of the rainbow dusting your face as he dipped his head down to yours and kissed you. “None of those Red Bull colours for you, mon ange.”
A peal of laughter sounded as you were pushed apart and Lorenzo ducked between you, a burst of yellow hitting Charles and raining over you. “Sorry, chére!” Arthur apologised as he bolted off again, chasing the eldest brother. 
Charles wrapped his arms around your waist as he stepped up behind you, watching his brothers race through the energetic crowd to find Joris and Pierre. His soft laugh warmed your cheeks as the three guys made an absolute mess. “Snow fights will never beat this.”
Your eyes widened with an idea. “Imagine colouring the snow balls!”
“Except yellow,” Charles pointed out, chuckling as your nose wrinkled at the idea.
“No, definitely not yellow,” you agreed. “But it would be funny to prank them if you did…”
Charles turned you in his arms and smiled fondly as he wiped away some of the coloured powders from your cheeks. “I love that mind of yours.”
“Just my mind?”
His eyes trailed over your shirt that was no longer white and his pupils darkened by the second as he bit his lip and continued to survey you with a look of hunger. Slowly he dragged his eyes back up until he reached your face again and released his plump lip from his teeth. “Yes, just your mind.”
He rocked back on his heels with a loud laugh that came from deep in his stomach and you gave him a little push against his chest. “Cha!”
Your feet disappeared from the ground as he picked you up and your hands came to rest on his shoulders as he looked up at you in awe. “There is not a single part of you I don’t love, mon ange.”
12. Teach Charles to cook
Charles would rather go swimming with sharks again, and he had not enjoyed that. He knew it would be a hell of a lot better than what you were about to make him do though. 
“I look stupid,” he complained as he placed the toque on his head. 
“You look stupid?” you laughed, pointing to your own head. “I have a hairnet on and I don’t have hair. So put your big boy pants on and let’s go, class is starting.”
You had debated trying to teach Charles to cook yourself but after a few mishaps and burned tea towels you decided you needed professional help for the task. This culinary school for beginners promised that it could teach even the most incompetent cooks to master the basics and most importantly, pasta. 
Thankfully putting Charles in a class setting made him focus and take note of the instructions. You could always count on him to become the teacher's pet and by the third lesson you watched with pride as he kneaded the pasta dough to perfection. 
“Can you dust a little more flour please?” he asked as he held the dough up.
“Yes, chef,” you saluted as you took a handful and scattered it over the bench. “Oh, you’ve got a little something on your cheek.”
“Can you get it?” he turned his cheek towards you as you tossed the rest of the flour at him. “Non…run.”
You turned and squealed as he grabbed a handful of flour and gave chase. “You’re going to get us expelled!”
He ignored you as he herded you into the huge pantry and you armed yourself with an egg in each hand. “We have ourselves an old-fashioned standoff, huh?” he teased. “It’s a good thing your aim is terrible.”
Charles moved first, showering you with the flour, and you launched the first egg. He deftly dodged it by jumping aside but it put him right into the trajectory of the second and it splattered over the chef’s jacket he wore. He looked down at the bright yolk and slimy whites that dribbled to the floor before looking back at the door where the chef was standing with a red face. 
“Both of you, out of my kitchen now!”
You tried to keep a straight face as you shuffled through the mess without slipping over and rushed to grab your handbag. “I can’t believe you got us expelled!” You burst into laughter as you exited the building and raced Charles to his Pista in the parking lot. 
“Me?” he laughed as he caged you between the car door. His eyes sparkled with amusement and he couldn’t help stealing a kiss when your happiness was as pure as it was in that moment. “Since I ruined our dinner plans, what would you like to eat? And please don’t say pasta or I will take you over my knee and spank you.”
“I mean, don’t threaten me with a good time,” you winked. “How about cake? You are already wearing half of the ingredients.”
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varpusvaras · 3 months
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It's a pretty afternoon on Coruscant, for once.
They are standing just at the entrance of the Jedi Temple, waiting for Wolffe to come out, and Fox is enjoying his moment of sunlight without having a barrier over his head, when there is something flying towards his head. In a snap, he has raised his hand and caught whatever it is.
"Nice catch!" Fox looks over to see Wolffe jogging towards them, with a small bag in his hand. He glances down at his own hand and to whatever he had just caught.
It's a fruit of some sort, round and with a very light and soft pink color.
"Souvenirs from General Koon", Wolffe says, opening the bag in his hand. "He called these Hallous and said we had to try them."
He starts to give everybody else a fruit from the bag as well. It's moments like these that Fox kind of wishes he also had a Jedi, who would call them all by their names and give out fruits and other treats. Fox isn't even sure when the last time was that he actually ate fresh food.
Everybody is taking a bite out of their fruits already, not bothering to wait until Fox gets his musings to an end. They all seem to enjoy it with smiles on their faces, so Fox takes a bite as well.
Fox hadn't thought before this that it could be possible for a food to punch him inside his mouth, but now he has to believe it. The fruit is spicy like those hot peppers in the stew that Thorn had bought in one of the first weeks of their posting, and it leaves a rough, tingling afterburn in Fox's mouth. The same afterburn follows the piece of fruit down his throat when he swallows, making him cough.
Cody, who is standing closest to him in their circle, reaches to pat him on his back.
"Don't choke", he says. "Wolffe probably doesn't want to go and tell General Koon that his fruit killed you."
Fox draws in a deep breath. He looks all of them over. Rex and Bly are still munching on on their fruits, with not one twitch in their expressions.
Fox's eyes are burning with gathering tears. He hurries to wipe them away.
Is his spice tolerance this bad? He hadn't thought so before, but...
Fox looks back at the fruit in his hands, then back at the others. They are almost done with theirs.
Fox is not going to give them any more reasons to make fun of him. They've been doing it lately more than enough, about everything they just possibly can. He takes a second bite and keeps his face still.
He's almost out of breath after the last bite, but he doesn't let it show. Thankfully nobody is pointing it out, too busy with heckling Bly at the moment because he just happened to accidentally call his General by her given name.
The burning feeling inside his mouth and throat don't leave him fully until the next day. He really, really needs to work on his spice tolerance.
---
"Oh, love", Breha is giving him a slightly concerned smile. "I'm sorry."
"It's fine", Fox manages to mumble, before he has to sneeze again. Thank Manda, he already had a tissue in his hands. His eyes and nose are burning.
Breha sighs.
"I should've made sure", she says. "You haven't really lived anywhere with this much...nature, before."
"You couldn't have known", Fox coughs. "And really, the Kaminoan's were supposed to engineer us without these kind of promblems."
"I don't think that's possible, with how many of you there are", Breha says. "Some things like this must've slipped, or happened during the gestation."
Possibly. Fox is not going to pretend that he understands anything about genetics.
Breha leaves for a moment, and Fox hears her move around the kitchenette area their living quarters have. She comes back with a steaming cup in her hands.
"The Hallous are in season in the Northern Hemisphere", she tells him, setting the cup in his hands. "They make a sweet tea blend infused with them, and it's good for your immune system."
Right. Fox guesses that something that spicy might as well burn all the nasty gunk in his airways away, so he takes a sip. He scrunches up his nose a bit from how much it burns, and Breha gives him another tissue, before getting up again.
She comes back a few minutes later with her own cup, and starts on her work while calmly sipping from it.
Fox is honestly impressed. He hadn't thought that Breha had much of a spice tolerance. Bail certainly doesn't have, and much of the traditional food of Alderaan is very mild and puts great emphasis on clean flavours. Oh, well, he learns something new every day. This all just now means that even his wife has a better spice tolerance than him by far.
He finishes his tea. It doesn't make him feel any better, as now his throat is even more scratchy than it was before. All it really does is making him even more tired, but he can't really sleep because of how hard it is to breathe.
He glances longingly out of the window. It's pretty out there, with gentle sunlight and green trees and everything in blossom, and he is allergic to all of it.
Fox grumples and closes his eyes.
---
Bail comes home the next week with a mild cold, and Fox watches him drink the tea like it's water. Alright, now this is really just embarrassing.
---
Fox tugs nervously at the collar of his suit. It's dark blue and goes together with what Breha and Bail are wearing, and he suddenly feels like he is out of his depth. Wearing the armor had given them all some sort of anonymity, even to him with his distinct paint job. It's probably going to take a while until Fox gets used to people looking at him, and looking at him without it.
It's also still strange to not be the one who is standing on guard, but to be the one who is guarded. Fox's job tonight is to stand there, look presentable, and not make a scene.
Things are still a bit...tense. There have been deglarations of peace and all that, but in many places, it still feels like one wrong move can light up everything again.
Fox can't help himself but to keep an eye out for everything that happens in the room. This is the first time after the War that Breha has travelled anywhere that is not in the Deep Core, and Fox is not going to stop himself from feeling protective of her. She is his wife, after all, and Fox has all the training necessary to keep her safe, if the situation demands it.
In the meanwhile, he tries to fullfill his primary job. Stand there, look presentable, and do not make a scene. He is still new to his position, so he is not yet expected to make some deep political statements.
Stand there, look presentable, and do not make a scene. He can do this.
Things are going well when they are served the first drinks of the evening.
"Here, Your Majesty", the server gives Breha a glass first, and then turns to Bail and Fox. "Your Highnesses. We do appreciate a lot of the same flavours as you in the Deep Core, and I think you will find this drink familiar. It's made with Hallous concentrate, to bring out the natural flavour powerfully and really make it the star of the drink."
"Thank you", Breha smiles brightly at them. "That sounds lovely."
Fox also thanks the server as he takes his glass, and does not show anything as their host gives out a speech and then a toast, and drinks with the rest of the guests. He manages to keep his face still by breathing deeply through his nose. All those years of training saving him in this moment, even if nothing what he learned while growing up was supposed to prepare him for a situation like this.
The drink is awful. Absolutely disgusting, if you ask Fox. It's so spicy that it stops tasting like anything at first, and then leaves a raw, bitter burn all the way down to his chest. His tongue feels immediately like it doesn't fit into his mouth properly anymore, pressing painfully against his back teeth. Fox really, really does not understand how every single person in the room can drink something like this and not automatically make even the slightlest of faces. Is this really just a thing he doesn't understand about people who were born into Royalty? Is it really just that much of an acquired taste, and him not liking it just shows that he really is just a nobody compared to them all?
Fox is proud of how well he managed to power through it, all of those things concidered. He tries to swallow a bit, to wash the taste out even a little, but he's barely getting his own spit down.
He sucks in a breath between his teeth. It's not reaching his lungs properly, leaving him feel weirdly unsatisfied. He tries again. It's barely getting past his lips, which feel...oddly numb. Huh. Was the spice really hitting him that bad?
Then it hits him that he can't breathe.
Fox tries to swallow again. It gets stuck somewhere at the back of his throat, the same place where all the air is getting stuck as well, and he clears his throat a bit behind his hand. It helps a little, letting him get something down to his lungs, but Fox has been choked out before and he knows when it's not enough.
It's not enough.
Sateen is with them, and he is standing closest to Fox and Bail, with Breha's own bodyguards standing next to her, and Fox, in his rising panic, sees him turn towards him.
"Fox?" Sateen asks, keeping his voice low as he steps closer and carefully grabs Fox by the arm. "Are you alright?"
Fox tries to say no, but then there is white static taking over his eyes and he vaguely feels himself pitching forward-
-and he wakes up with something heavy on his face and a rush of cool air, and he gulps it up desperately. It enters his lungs with a deep, sweet relief, and then makes him cough.
There is a hand on his forehead, large and warm and familiar. Fox has the mind to open his eyes.
The first thing he sees is Bail's extremely concerned face above him, and then somebody else's as they lean closer to him.
"Deep breaths", they say, and Fox obeys. The more air he is getting in, the more aware he is becoming of his surroundings, and that is when he notices that there is a lot of commotion all around him.
He tries to look back up at Bail, to ask what is going on, but the other person telling him to breathe is really insistent of him doing just that and not talking, so Fox relents just for a moment longer.
He does glance around from the corner of his eyes, though. The whole room is in absolute chaos, with people shouting and screaming in a rising cacophony, and with multiple Guards in different uniforms trying to contain it all with seemingly very, very bad results.
The people leaning over him are talking something about oxygen levels and adrenaline and blood pressure and a lot more that Fox doesn't have the capacity to understand right now, so he just breathes.
He does feel a sense of disappointment in himself. His job had literally been just to stand there, look presentable and not cause a scene.
He isn't standing, most likely doesn't look presentable while lying on the floor, and this definitely counts as a scene.
Fox presses his eyes back shut. Just his luck.
---
Rex: I can't believe that you out of all of us managed to almost cause a full blown conflict because everybody thought you were poisoned, while you were just having an allergy attack
Rex: I thought that was a thing only Skywalker and General Kenobi were able to do
Fox: Shut up
Bly: No, no, really. You really couldn't tell that you were allergic to that stuff? You've seen all of us eat them with no problems!
Fox: You guys are all a bunch of weirdos, how was I supposed to know that you all didn't just enjoy eating shit like that?
Wolffe: Next time you see us eating something without problems while you are actively choking on it because it tastes like molten lava to you, please call us a bunch of weirdos out loud. That could save the Galaxy in the future, apparently
Fox: Cody, Ponds, they are bullying me. I almost died!
Ponds: and almost caused another conflict while doing so
Cody: Stop it, everyone. We're glad that you're okay, Fox'ika
Fox: Thank you. At least somebody here still loves me
Cody: BUT, there is a saying Obi-Wan used to say-
Fox shuts down his commlink at that point. Bail gives him a sympathetic look from the chair next to Fox's bed.
"Are they making fun of you?" He asks.
"Of course they are", Fox huffs, and then resists another urge to just reach to his back and scratch. "I almost died and I'm suffering and they're making fun of me."
Bail takes his hand gently to his.
"I'm not making fun of you", he says, with humour in his voice but enough soft love in his eyes that Fox lets it be for now.
"Thank you", Fox says, squeezing Bail's hand. Partly to show back affection, partly to stop himself from giving into the urge to scratch. "How long do I have left?"
Bail looks at his chrono.
"Another hour", he says. "I'm sorry. We just want to make sure this doesn't happen again."
"It's fine", Fox sighs. "I would rather it doesn't happen again, either, but why does testing for allergens take so long?"
"That, I do not know", Bail says. He then straightens up a bit to take a look at Fox's back.
Fox sees the grimace on his face, even though Bail tries his hardest to wipe it away quickly.
"I'm karked, aren't I?" Fox asks.
"Well, I wouldn't say so", Bail tries to smile placatingly at him. "I'm sure it's completely normal for it to look like that."
He, very wisely, understands to shut up after the next look Fox gives him.
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pimosworld · 5 months
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The sun and the moon
🌙Pairing-Moon boys x f!reader x Khonshu x Hathor
🌒Chapter Summary- You and the boys celebrate your new job. Marc’s past trauma threatens to derail what the other so desperately want with you. Khonshu makes his presence known in only ways he knows how.
🌔CW-18+,MDNI,NDFW, friends to lovers, Angst,Fluff,Insecurities,flashback sequence, POV switch, inaccurate depiction of DID,kissing,lots of flirting.
🌑WK-4.2k
A/N-I hope you like our first installment. I don’t know why I love writing Marc so angsty but I promise he will come around. Steven takes the lead in this because I’m a sucker for him and Jake is his ever charming self.
Not beta read
[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]
Chapter 1
  ”I am the one who guides the great ones who are lost and exhausted on the roads of the reborn…
Who guides those who are lost in the underworld,
I am Hathor, Queen of the northern sky,
Who watches over the reborn,
I am a haven of tranquility for the just,
A ferry for the chosen.”
You never imagined you’d find yourself running through the halls of the British museum. You couldn’t contain your excitement of finally being told you got the job. You knew Steven would be leading a tour but he insisted you find him when you got the results. Good or bad. 
  The curator that was retiring was highly impressed with your knowledge. You thought the job offer would be to assist. You were ecstatic when she told you she wanted you to take over the catalogue of all the new exhibits in the museum. 
  It always came natural to you, the research and the fascination of every ancient civilization. Egypt in particular held your interest. There was a connection you couldn’t describe when you thought about it. Having met Steven and bonding over your shared obsession made you feel a little less awkward. 
  You always felt a little more like yourself around them. 
  Steven could invariably sense it before he even laid his eyes on you. It always started the same - a subtle yet undeniable sensation. A cascade of warmth starting from the top of his head emanating through his body. It was indescribable the reaction you elicited from each one of them, all varying in forms. 
  He’s meandering through the new Hatshepsut exhibit on a break in between tours when you find him. All bright and blazing smiles, hardly able to contain your excitement. He already knows what you’re going to tell him. You didn’t need his help but Jake would’ve called him all sorts of Spanish curses if he had turned down your request to help prepare for the interview at the museum all those weeks ago. 
  Some might call his love for ancient Egypt neurose but that’s what led you to him. It’s very likely you would be another stranger to him if his obsession hadn’t caused him to start his incessant babbling that fateful day in the coffee shop. 
  A beautiful creature like you, arguably the most beautiful he’s ever seen. Sitting in the shop he regularly frequented, seated in the corner to catch the only ray of light. Illuminating in your hands a special edition novel on some obscure topic. You quietly giggling to yourself as you read. 
  Jake stayed uncharacteristically quiet while Steven rambled to you about all the secret facts that were never printed. This was his forte and who was Jake to overtake this conversation that you seemed to enjoy. You took to him like you were long lost friends. 
  You took to all of them (well most of them) with such great ease…but one thing at a time. Let’s start with Steven. 
  Your sweet Steven, his posture slightly slouched. Hair a little disheveled and clothes not very firm fitting. But right now he’s standing tall, deft hands in his pockets and his hair with a bit of product. He always took care of his appearance as a tour guide. He stood a little straighter, spoke a little firmer…more assured. 
  He’s looking at you like that now as you approach him. A slight smirk on his face because he knows but he wouldn’t dare ruin your moment. 
  It’s hard to describe the feelings you have when you’re around them. It’s much easier to express how you feel when you’re not with them. Incomplete, fragmented,dimmed. 
  It’s like the opposite of a heartbreak when you see him. 
  “I have some great news.” You’re bouncing on your feet as you half whisper, trying not to draw attention from the other people in the exhibit. 
  She’s adorable 
  Jake is ever present when you are around and Marc as well but he mostly stays silent. 
  “I got the job.” You clap your hands over your mouth to suppress the squeal that you want to let out. 
  It feels wrong not to hug you at this moment. He’s not sure how you’d feel about it now that you’re coworkers but the way you step closer, he can’t resist as he pulls you into his arms. 
  You melt as he mumbles praises into your hair. He’s overwhelmed by the smell of citrus and vanilla as he realizes this is the closest your bodies have ever been. A different kind of warmth spreads over him now as he breaks away from you before ruining this moment with an awkward explanation about the male anatomy.
  “I’m so proud of you.” He says while he still holds your hands in his, a safe distance from you now. 
  “I couldn’t have done it without you Steven.” 
  He nervously adjusts the collar of his shirt as the redness creeps up his neck at the compliment. 
  “Nonsense love, you’re a natural.” 
  It was a regular term of endearment from him but it always made you all giddy inside. You never read too much into each of their special names for you. The countless times Jake called you hermosa or when Marc let the occasional sweetheart slip from his lips. 
  You nervously fidget with the hem of your blouse as the conversation lulls for a moment. “Well I should let you get back to work.” You reach up and give him a kiss on his cheek before you can talk yourself out of it as you hear a sharp intake of breath. 
  He watches you briefly as you walk away, he’s stuck in a trance trying to process what just happened. 
  “We should celebrate!” He didn’t really mean to shout it at you. The way all eyes turn to him including you has him wanting to crawl into the nearest sarcophagus. 
  You smile at him as you exit the exhibit and the light in the room dims a little as he patiently waits for the responses from his head mates about how bonkers he is. 
  His phone buzzes lightly in his pocket and his heart skips a beat when he sees your name appear on the screen. 
  You:My place or yours 
  Mine-S
  Steven can feel Jake and Marc at the forefront,along with a mixture of emotions.
  Worried,jealous,excited,anxious. They may be unique in their own way, but they share a brain and a body. Steven wasn’t usually the vanguard in these situations but something about you makes him feel confident. A way he’s never felt before, and he’s never been more sure than he’s been about you. 
  ****
  No one drinks your tea hermano.
  Steven huffs as he opens the door to the small coffee shop on the corner. “Whatever you say mate. I know I didn’t drink the last of it.” He doesn’t normally get this miffed but he’s been a lot more stressed at work lately with all the new responsibilities. 
  You wanted those responsibilities.
  Buzz off Jake.
  A poor old woman turns to him wide eyed. Steven quietly apologizes to her as he tucks his cold hands in his jumper. He just wanted to get some hot tea and be on about his day. Unsure of what he would even do…most likely research for the tours. It sure beats being yelled at by Donna who thinks she’s still Stevens boss. 
  The barista offers him a polite smile as he steps up to the counter. “I’d like the rooibos chai tea please.” He slides her some bills before she can tell him the total and quickly steps aside. 
  It’s warm and his hands are clammy. He rolls up the sleeves of his jumper as he idles by the window, somehow in everyone’s way and not in the way at all. He doesn’t remember it being a particularly sunny day when he left the flat but it seems the shop is ten shades brighter. 
  He glances around nervously as he hears some soft laughter just to his left. A book. A girl. In the corner. 
  Talking to strangers about Egypt at work was one thing. For starters he got paid to do it and he truly loved it. It’s an entirely different thing to do in public, some might say peculiar to strike up a conversation unprovoked. It’s no matter anyway as his feet carry him to your warm nook in the shop. 
  “That copy must have cost you a small fortune.” He says as he slides into the seat next to you. 
  You laugh as you dip your head. “Would you believe me if I told you I found it at a thrift store.” You turn it over in your hand as you brush your fingers down the spine. “Obviously I had to snatch it up before they realized what they had.” 
  He knows he’s the one who approached you but now he can’t actually believe you’re talking to him. Without even missing a beat. You haven’t returned your attention back to the book as you stare at him like you're studying his movements. Your eyes sparkle as you lift your coffee to your lips and blow before taking a sip. 
  “So what chapter had you particularly giggly over here.” He teases as you hold the book against your chest. 
  You lean in and he forces himself not to look at your slightly open blouse.“I’m afraid the god of Min is not one to be discussed out loud.” Your breath ghosts over him as you whisper in his ear. He can feel the heat flush over his body from your close proximity. 
  You slide the book towards him and tap your finger on the page. He tries to focus on reading it but he notices you haven’t pulled away. 
  Min was often depicted as a mummiform human man with an ithyphallic (uncovered erect) penis. Wearing a crown adorned with two feathers. In his left hand he holds his penis ( although this is usually only apparent in statues because of the perspective applied to two dimensional images in Egyptian art) in his right hand he holds a flail up above his shoulder representing power and fertility. 
  You lightly tap him on his shoulder and he looks up to see you gesturing to the young barista excitedly waving him over. She’s a bit squirrelly when he approaches to retrieve his coffee and he thinks perhaps she’s consuming too much of the shop's supply. 
  What are you doing hermano?
  I haven’t the slightest idea mate.
  Well keep it up, it seems to be working.
  He doesn’t want to intrude but he sees you smiling brightly at him as he returns to the table. You’re still on the same page not having resumed your reading. 
  Steven sits and sips his tea, he hums in approval and he’s grateful it sat briefly because at the moment he’s plenty warm. 
  “Is that the chai?” You ask inquisitively as you flip back a few pages with a puzzled look on your face. 
  “Yes, it’s one of my favorites. In fact I don’t make it at home. It’s just—.”
  “It never tastes the same.”  You steal the words right from his mouth as he glances down to your coffee in question. “Sometimes I enjoy the occasional cup of coffee. It reminds me of home” You say with a sheepish expression. 
  “Where’s home?” He clears his throat. “If you don’t mind me asking, that is.” 
  “I don’t mind at all. Washington.” His eyes go wide and you smirk into your coffee. “I know I’m a long way from home.” You say it with a far away look in your eyes and he silently curses himself for being too forward. 
  You flip frantically back and forth through the pages as you scrunch your nose in frustration. 
  She’s cute 
  Ya he’s aware and he’s thoroughly wrecked at any future attempts to match this turn of events for a day off from the museum. 
  “Looking for anything in particular?” He leans in a little closer as he scrubs his sweaty palms on his pants. 
  “Yes…it’s just.” You cease your movements and lean back against the soft cushion. “I know these books leave out so much information. They claim to be special editions but I know there’s more to it than this.” You point at the page like it’s personally offended you. 
  “Perhaps I could be of some assistance?” You raise your eyebrow at him and it’s quiet for a moment. 
  “Aren’t you going to ask?” 
  “Ask what love?” It slips out but you don’t falter or grimace at his words. 
  “Ask me why I’m so far from home.” You look at each other then, it’s just a millisecond of a flash in your eyes. The iris is bright yellow and then gone. His heart quivers a bit and he thinks he may be having a mild heart attack. 
  Calmáte
  He takes a shuddering breath and shucks off his coat. “S’ not really my business I guess.” 
  You’re so focused on him. Like you’re learning every tick and line etched into his features. The way you stare at him like he’s a statue to be studied. It’s maddening and a little unnerving but he doesn’t want you to look away. 
  “Can you tell me why all of the statues of Min are depicted vastly different from all these photographs?” You slide the book toward him but he closes it as a smug smile adorns his face.
  “Well the European scholars of the Victorian age were a bit more…conservative.” He adjusted his pants unconsciously before continuing. “They had most of the phallic members on the statues removed when they were discovered. It nearly wiped out all known history of Min…but you can’t erase the mind.” You chuckle as he taps his finger against his temple playfully. 
  You sigh sympathetically and a comfortable silence falls over the both of you. “Poor Min.” 
  Steven lets out a raucous laughter and you can’t help the giggle that escapes you. The old woman from before seated at a table nearby shushes you both and Stevens face turns deep red. 
  You duck your head close to his. “It’s not like we’re in a library.” 
  Ya he’s a goner 
  “Another fun fact, that’s likely not in your book.” He drops his voice a little to not disturb anyone else. His excitement is threatening to boil over at your willingness to listen. “It’s rumored that Min was in charge of overseeing the women while the king and his men were at war. When the men returned from battle all of the women were pregnant.” You cover your mouth in shock. “It gets worse.” 
  Your leg brushes his as you adjust to face him better and he nearly chokes at the brief contact. “The king had his arm and leg chopped off in retaliation.” 
  “Why not his.” You gesture downward but his eyes stay fixed to your face. 
  “Well…funny you ask. The king told the men to remove his er…you know. The men thought it was too magnificent so they made him a god. That’s the rumor at least.” 
  MIN WAS A FOOL
  Steven stiffens at the bird's sudden presence as he’s perched in the corner. Unsure as to why he’s here. Marc made it clear to leave Steven alone when it comes to moon knight duties 
  You’re staring at him with a mesmerized look in your eyes. “How do you know so much?”
  He shrugs his shoulders. “I’ve always had a knack for researching and always found Egyptian mythology fascinating. I used to run the gift shop at the British Museum, but now I’m a tour guide.” 
  You shriek in surprise and the old woman abruptly stands with her newspaper, muttering under her breath as she exits the coffee shop. “I’m interviewing for a job there next month. How serendipitous.” You say the last part half whispered. 
  “Wow, that is quite the coincidence. What’s the job? If you don’t mind me asking.” 
  “The curator position has an opening. It’s always been my dream to work there.” Steven glances up nervously at Khonshu who still hasn’t left. 
  DON'T MESS THIS UP WORM
  “I could ugh…help you prepare. If you’d like? I’m sure you know your stuff but if I—.” 
  “I would love that so much. Thank you.” You say enthusiastically as you clap your hands together. 
  You reach into your purse to pull out your phone. “I’m here most mornings around this time.” You hand it to him sounding a little apprehensive. “But I should have your number just in case.” 
  “Of course love.” He punches in the digits trying to calm his shaking hands. He hands it back to you as you look it over. 
  “Nice to meet you Steven.” You slide it back into your purse along with your book. “I should be going.” You wave at him as you slide out and head towards the door with one last glance over your shoulder at him. 
  He exhales as he drops his head back, the cafes a little colder and his heart rate slows to a normal pattern. 
  ****
  Steven frantically stacks his books against the wall after he’s checked on the vegan pot pie in the oven. He’d managed with Marc’s help to attempt a new recipe without burning down the flat. 
  She’s been here before Steven just relax 
  “I just want it to look nice. She’s not just coming over to study.” Despite Marc’s insistence he calms down, he can sense his nervousness. 
  Jake feels it too. 
  You’ve been over countless times, laid out on the floor amongst the books that adorned their home. You and Steven rambling for hours about the ancient texts or the hidden tombs. Swapping ridiculous facts that the other hadn’t heard. Jake often had to remind you both to eat or drink something. 
  Marc would front occasionally…mostly to remind Steven that the body had other duties to attend to. There was always an awkward avoidance on the days after you’d see Marc. 
  But tonight feels different. You were coming over to spend time with them, not just pick Stevens brain for loads of useful knowledge. The way you touched him today and the look in your eyes told an entirely different story than your budding friendship. He doesn’t want to get ahead of himself before you arrive so he tries to keep his hands busy. 
  Jake has to give it to him, the flat has never been this clean in its entirety. He notices some newer candles have been lit but decides to keep it to himself. 
  Just remember she likes us and take deep breaths
  “Thanks mate, I sure hope I know what I’m doing.” 
  ****
  “Steven, you've outdone yourself.” You slide the empty plate forward and take a sip of your wine. 
  It never gets old, hearing your praises. You were always so grateful and appreciative of anything they would do for you. 
  “Marc helped as well.” His eyes meet Marc’s in the reflection of the mirror. 
  You brush your hand over his tracing the veins along his arm. “Well tell him I said thank you.”
  Marc wasn’t avoiding you per say. He just thought it was important for Steven and Jake to experience what he once had. Something he wanted so desperately but was too afraid to mess it up again. 
  The conversation moves comfortably to the couch, where your feet are curled up beneath you as you animatedly tell Steven about the wonderful interview. Some old sci fi movie on in the background that he can’t bother to pay attention to when he could simply watch you. 
  You finally take a breath and realize how close you are. Knees touching as you adjust against the worn leather. He looks at you as if he wants you to continue. You thought he’d be sick of talking about this stuff by now but he looks as though he’d let you go on for hours. You can’t ignore the feeling from earlier and you hope deep down that what you’re about to do doesn’t ruin the best friendship you’ve ever had. 
  If it does, you suppose it’ll make your work relationship less complicated. You aren’t even sure what the policy is on dating. You’re definitely getting ahead of yourself. 
  “Love is everything alright?” He asks as he places his warm hand gently on your thigh. 
  “Sorry, I was lost in thought.” You chuckle softly as you look at the fish tank. Gus swimming in the front staring at you. 
  “Did you want to tell me what’s on your mind?” His hand traces soothing circles on your thigh and he feels you shudder. He moves to withdraw but you grab his hand,lacing your fingers with his. 
  He slowly raises your arm, kissing the back of your hand as his lips linger there for a moment. ‘Go on’
  “I just…wanted to thank you properly. But we were in the museum.” Your voice is suddenly so timid. 
  “We’re not in the museum now.” His chest rises and falls with rapid breaths as he waits. 
  It feels like all eyes are on you, and not just Stevens. He’s waiting for you to cross that bridge, giving you the opportunity to say that this can stay exactly what it is and he would be content. 
  You inch closer to him as you rise up on your knees, the couch creaks as you face him, placing your free hand on his shoulder. He closes his eyes as you roam over his chest, mapping it with your fingers. His dark lashes flutter against his cheeks as you lean in and press your lips to his. 
  Warmth blooms across his chest at the first feel of your touch. It’s so gentle and experimental as you both share breaths. He releases your hand to wrap around your waist and pull you closer to his chest. 
  “You’re welcome.” He murmurs against your lips as you chuckle in between opened mouth kisses. 
  You can still taste the wine on his tongue as he methodically takes the lead. Much more assured of himself than you’ve ever seen. 
  You yelp in surprise as he swings your leg over his so you’re straddling his lap. You lean back with your hands braced on his chest as it rises and falls beneath you. His hands flex at his side as his eyes roll. 
  “Mírate, eres tan hermosa.” His pupils are black as he bites his bottom lip. 
  “Hi.” You say breathlessly as his hands find their way to your hips. He pulls you in as your noses touch, waiting for permission as you nod. 
  He’s consuming and precise in his movements. His lips crash into yours as you instinctively grind your hips down. He groans into your mouth as you wrap your arms around his neck. It’s so different from Steven and yet so exhilarating knowing it’s the same body. 
  I wasn’t quite finished yet
  Jake chuckles as he trails kisses along your jaw. “I wasn’t sure if he was going to share.”  He tilts your head to the side as he bites and nips at your chin. “To be continued.” 
  His hands flex again and he relaxes beneath you. A blush creeps up Stevens neck at the position you’re in. You adjust yourself and brush against his hardened bulge in his pants. A soft whimper leaves his mouth as you experimentally roll your hips again. He’s slack jawed as he watches you with hooded eyes. You’re beautiful just like this. 
  Your nerves start to get the better of you and he notices your trembling. He gently unwraps your arms from his neck as he places a kiss on each palm. 
  “We don’t have to go any further love.” He breathes in the scent of your perfume, heavy on your wrist. “I like this. What we’re doing now.” 
  You place your hand on his rapidly beating heart, quite the juxtaposition to his outwardly calm demeanor. You’re so content to stay like this…so you do until your eyes fall heavy. Lips chapped from kissing as the candles go out on their own. Curled up under the broadness of their body as they wrap you up into them. You push the thoughts away before sleep claims you of not having seen Marc, you want to thank him…in time. 
  ****
  The golden sun bathes you in a warm embrace as you rustle amongst the robust reeds. Your fingers trace along the silky fabric of your dress as the breeze brings scents of jasmine to awaken you softly. 
  The crunching of grass with each deliberate step, a gentle symphony beneath the weight of someone weaving through the emerald blades. As they move it casts a shadow along your tranquil resting spot. 
  You hear a faint laugh as you open your eyes. A tall majestic man stands before you, adorned in blue and gold. His dark locks sit beneath a nemes crown. He crouches down beside you as he lays his crescent staff amongst the grass and pulls you close. He rests his head atop yours as he hums quietly to himself.
  “I knew I’d find you here.” 
  ****
  You stretch your sore limbs, having fallen asleep in such an awkward position. Fragments of a dream linger in your mind briefly. Your eyes adjust to the light in the flat and you’re acutely aware of the lack of warmth against your back. 
  There’s a soft quilt draped over your form and you pull it close as you sit up on the brown leather couch. It’s silent in the flat, the only sound over the quiet hum of Gus’s tank is the sound of your beating heart as you brush the tears away with the blanket you’re holding tightly to your chest. 
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dragons-and-handcuffs · 2 months
Note
https://www.tumblr.com/dragons-and-handcuffs/739372322140651520/i-just-had-an-interesting-thought-what-if-harwin
I just found this and now I’m wondering
What if after the dance begins, initially Rhaenyra’s daughter is betrothed to Cregan, to strengthen their alliances in the north?
While Rhaenyra’s other children very clearly held the traits of their Strong father, her daughter…. Was slightly different. The Strongs are well known in Kings Landing. The boys features are clear. However Rhaenyra’s daughter (through some odd luck) inherited her mother’s silver hair.
Despite having few other Valyrian traits, she has the Valyrian hair. If anyone suspects her as a bastard, they cannot say it. Because who then would the father be? Surely not Harwin.
Where her brothers have round noses and faces, and show signs of growing into well built men, she is the opposite. Like a little ghost. Post of her can be described in two words. Pale and thin. She cannot in any way be Harwin’s daughter. She bares no resemblance to any Strong woman.
Only because the people of Kings Landing do not know exactly which house she oddly resembles….
The hair color could throw one off. But as soon as her daughter starts growing, her features becoming more clear, Rhaenyra knows exactly where they’re from. She does her best to hide it. Insisting her eyes are just paler violet. Dressing her in only black. And styling her hair in Valyrian ways.
Anything to make the child resemble her. And not…. Him.
She’s fortunate. The people at court don’t know northern houses as well, aside from the Starks. At least not enough to notice those traits. But one night…. In the light of the fire late at night, Rhaenyra sees her daughter. She scares her by how suddenly she appears. The girl means no harm. But the way the low light catches her eyes…. Making her red dress look almost pink….
She is given no red dresses after that.
When the dance begins, Rhaenyra makes a mistake. Allowing her daughter to go north with Cregan. The second the others in his house see her, they recognize those features. And unfortunately for her…. So do others.
They’re cold to her. And when Cregan rides off, they avoid her out of uneasiness. Feeling unwelcome, she spends much of her time alone. But she isn’t familiar with Northern lands. Riding much too far one night, ending up in the land of House Bolton…..
She is left asking for shelter at the Dreadfort when a storm hits.
The girl ends up sitting in the same room as her kin, knowing nothing of it. They’re clever people…. They know how to spot a Targaryen. But more importantly, they know how to spot one who isn’t fully Targaryen….
They aren’t all unkind. A few of them ask her questions about herself. Ironically showing her more warmth than many others since she came to the north. She finds herself oddly at ease in these halls, with these reserved but seemingly generous people.
She finds herself at first staying longer than expected. Then returning a few times when Cregan is away. Rhaenyra writes to her daughter once. And the letter she receives back horrifies her.
She talks of visiting the Dreadfort. Of feeling welcome there! Rhaenyra, despite fighting a war, sends a letter hastily, ordering her to stay far away from that house!
However…. The seeds of doubt are already planted in the mind of the princess. Her mother says the Starks and their allies are trustworthy and the Boltons are not….. yet the Starks avoid her for some reason. And the Boltons welcomed her as if she was their own….. why does her mother not trust them? Does her mother even care?
Rhaenyra has already sealed her fate. For while she’s ordered her daughter to stay far away, the Princess is instead returning to the Dreadfort. What her mother doesn’t know, can’t hurt her
.
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callmelyc · 6 months
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Just gonna start cross posting every single bit of Twitter nonsense soooo
Lance joining Keith on blade missions post war and calling him "Captain" in the most flirty tone. He does this during meetings and such just to make Keith blush or stutter in his words.
The first time lance does this it catches Keith so far off guard his reaction isn't at all subtle.
"Excuse me, Captain~" Lance all but purrs the title in that lovely lilting tone of his and Keith damn near chokes on his own spit right in front of a room of BOM personel.
He clears his throat best he can trying to gather himself- because what the fuck- "y...yes Lance?"
"What if we went in teams of two? That way at least two people could tackle that northern section there."
Keith turns to look at the map, fluster momentarily forgotten, and sees Lance is right it would make more sense.
So plans are changed with unanimous agreement and things move on.
The flirtatious captain is forgotten until it happens again, this time in the halls.
Keith is talking to a commander for one of the resistance outpost when he feels a presence slide into his side so smooth and efficiently he nearly ignores it.
He knows it's lance, it always was, and he's more surprised by the fact Lance stays so silent.
It's not until the Commander, a man named Zyre, starts to comment on lack of trust that Lance speaks up before Keith can even get a word.
"Excuse me Commander but I can assure you Captain Kogane has it all under control" he says it with a charming smile that seems to ease all of Zyres worries.
Keith never knows how he managed it with such ease and simplicity, to calm someone's worries as if it's his living purpose.
He watches as the two talk, ending with a light laugh and a kind goodbye.
As the commander leaves Lance turns to look at him, blue eyes sparkling like the ocean "what's wrong Captain?" And there it is again that flirtatious sing song of his title that makes Keith gulp. A tanned hand smoothly slides up Keiths arm making his mouth run dry "cat got your tongue?"
Keith fights the flaming blush rising up his cheeks, he turns to rush away in place of a reply knowing it was far more incriminating thid way.
If he hears Lances twinkling laughter as he turns the corner Keith makes nothing of it.
The third time is, unfortunately for Keith, during a joint BOM and Atlas meeting.
Griffin was arguing the benefit of using some of his crew alongside one of the other branches of the resistance and it was draining Keith's patience to no end.
Sure they get along now, somewhat, but that didn't mean he found James particularly pleasant to listen to.
He drones on and on about the efficiency and things he'd already covered in his pitch but despite a good amount of the room being a tad annoyed no one seemed willing to stop him...yet
That's when Keith sees It, the look™ on Lances face and he knows oh God does he know.
Lance smiles when he notices he's caught Keiths eye and tosses him a knowing wink.
Keith fights everything in him not to groan as Lance shifts to cut Griffin off without even looking at the guy. Those blue eyes zeroing in on Keith from across the room with terrifying accuracy and focus.
"Captain Kogane" he says oh so sweetly it shuts everyone up in an instant. Lance even bats his lashes for extra effect because his new favorite thing to do is apparently publicly torture Keith.
"I-" Keith starts far too distracted to even notice the way some have started giggling at his demise. Too far gone for this boy that his loss for words is so heavy for something so small.
"You had a contact in that Sector didn't you? Why not utilize them?"
It's not until after the meeting that Keith realizes others have taken notice to Lances....well, whatever it is he's doing.
Keith tries to ignore the look, the whispers, the focus. He really does. But then Shiro has that shit eating grin on his face as he walks up next to him and Keith would rather be literally anywhere else.
"So Captain Kogane huh?" Shiro asks smugly.
Keith glares at him "shut it grandpa, he's just being respectful."
That makes shiro snort "yeah sure respectful is definitely the word for that."
Keith reserved to say nothing as they walked to the cafeteria and did his best to ignore every giggle and whisper thrown as he passes.
If he thought that was bad he wasn't ready for the way people mockingly called him Captain at lunch. They'd say it with that same flirty lit and over the top gestures that made his skin crawl. Its not in a mean way, he knows. It's more in the they were clearly mocking Lances tone kind of way and Keith found that unacceptable.
It irked him to no end. If they were gonna poke fun at him fine! But don't bring lance into it.
So Keith did the only rational thing left. He left the cafeteria.
He tracked down Lance because even if he was the cause of the teasing Lance was still far better company than anyone else on this god forsaken ship.
He found him in the ships artificial courtyard humming to himself as he played with the vines.
He sits next to Lance enjoying the simplicity of the moment since they usually don't get much time like this and returns the smile Lance throws his way. It's comforting when they're together like this. Just the two of them with no prying eyes or mission discussions.
"What brings you here Samurai? I would've thought you'd eat lunch with Shiro."
Keith huffs a bit "with everyone jokingly calling me Captain I'd rather sit somewhere relaxing."
Lance frowns "do...do you not like being called Captain?"
Keith looks at lance dumfounded, he's unable to reply before lance continues "should I stop?"
"NO!"
The two look at eachother wide eyed for a moment.
A beat pases.
Two.
Lances surprise fades into a small smirk, a dangerous understanding filling his eyes "oh so you do like it when I call you Captain?"
"I- well..." He stutters trying to fight the rising heat on his ears. Keith wouldn't dare admit it out loud he can't. He can't give lance a weapon like this, his heart wouldn't survive.
But despite the lack of voicing his agreement Lance picks up on it anyways. Those sharp eyes always on target, lazer focused, and amused much to Keiths dismay.
Lance chuckles standing to leave "well, I'll see you around then Captain~"
And Keith has never wanted to smack himself more for being such an oblivious idiot.
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winchesterandpie · 2 years
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Same Boat
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Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x reader
Word Count: 4382 (I may have gotten a little out of control)
Warnings: song lyrics if that isn't your thing, pining, best friends to lovers, fluff
A/N: So I heard this song (Same Boat by Lizzy McAlpine) and it just sparked this idea immediately. I had a little bit of time around grad school stuff and managed to write this out. It hasn't really been proofread, but I think it's alright anyways. I might not manage to post another fic for a while--I have to figure out some lab stuff--but I hope you'll enjoy this and fics from other wonderful authors in the meantime.
If I had the chance
To see the northern lights
I would book the next flight
And I'd buy a jacket
You sighed as you settled into your seat on the flight. You were on your way to see your Jake graduate from Top Gun. He’d called you excitedly when he was put into the program, the first person he’d told. Now, you were coming out to surprise him as he finished as the very best of the best.
The thought of seeing him after so many months filled you with butterflies. What if things had changed in the long time you had spent apart? What if he wasn’t happy to see you? Or perhaps worst of all, what if he had found someone?
You wouldn’t have any right to be upset that your best friend had found someone who made him happy. Not when you were unwilling to tell him how you felt.
There were many other things you were willing to take a chance on. Your career forced you to take some risks. Your schooling did too. Jake himself had pushed you to take risks and try new things and you had done them all with him to back you. Nothing you had ever done felt as scary as the idea of telling him you were in love with him.
Those other risks had potential consequences, sure, but none came with the possibility of losing your best friend. That was something you couldn’t bear to lose. So you were (mostly) content to push your ever-growing feelings to the side if it meant you could keep him close.
Still, if he found someone, that meant that the chance, however slim, of your feelings being reciprocated would be gone. When that day inevitably came, your heart would break. You would be happy that he was happy, but you would always know that you missed your chance with the love of your life. Because that’s ultimately what Jake was.
If I had the chance
To see snow fall for the first time
I would stop and rewind
To re-find the magic
You watched the light snowfall through the plane window as it started to back away from the gate. It reminded you of the first time Jake had seen snow.
You had dragged him out the front door, giggling at the way his eyes widened when a fluffy snowflake landed on his nose. He had nearly gone cross-eyed to watch it melt against his skin. Even after it was gone, Jake had just looked at you in shock while snow fell around you.
You had showed him how to catch them on his tongue and how to shape a snowball that would stay together. You had launched an attack that led to a snowball fight that you won only because he was unprepared. He had fallen back into the snow, and you leaned over him as you both laughed breathlessly. 
You had wanted to kiss his flushed cheek then, but you had forced yourself to look away from his glittering green eyes and bright grin. Instead of kissing him like you wanted to, you had rolled off of him into the snow and taught him to make snow angels. The wishful voice in your head had whispered that Jake’s eyes held a hint of disappointment when you rolled away, but you had pushed it aside then as you did now. Your fingers had brushed together with every flap of snowy wings.
Then he had dragged you back inside, claiming that your fingers were too cold. You had let him pull you inside and tug one of his sweatshirts over your shirt after your winter coat came off. You still had that particular sweatshirt in your closet, though it no longer smelled like him.
With hot cocoa in both your hands and Jake’s legs thrown across your lap, you had committed to memory how it felt to watch him learn the magic of snow.
Now, you wondered what might have happened if you had gone ahead and kissed him that day so long ago.
But if there was ever a chance to tell you
That I think about you every single day
I don't know if I could take that chance
Or take your hand and say
It was almost odd how often you thought about him. There were just little things nearly every day that reminded you of him in some way. You really couldn’t help it.
A burger you ate reminded you of the place Jake took you to in Texas. The way you unfolded your sunglasses with one hand was something you’d picked up from watching him. You still instinctively turned to point out Texas-sized flags and tease him, though he wasn’t at your shoulder. On occasion, you would text him things your coworkers said that you knew he would find funny, especially when he told you about a rough day.
The smallest things reminded you of him. You would never admit it out loud, certainly not to him.
Sometimes, he did things that made you wonder if he thought about you as often.
One particularly notable occasion, you had texted him in the middle of the day, ranting about whatever had made your day go terribly wrong. You knew he was probably up flying jets at supersonic speeds, so you hadn’t expected anything to come of it. Maybe he would text you consolation or a funny story about whatever stupid maneuver somebody had pulled later that night.
You had not been expecting a delivery of your favorite takeout half an hour after you got home. There was a short note attached that read, “I’ll call when I get done, but I hope this helps in the meantime. J” It had felt like a warm hug from the only person you wanted to see. Even if he couldn’t physically be there for you, he had still done what he could.
You are on my mind (oh-oh)
When I miss the snow (oh-oh)
You show up when I hear that song or
I finally start watching that tv show
I don't know why every time
That I think of home
I can picture you standing in the cold
But I, I'm scared 'cause I don't know
If you and I are in the same boat
Your shuffled playlist made you smile when it played his favorite song. You remembered the many times it had come on when the two of you were in the car, the time spent singing along, however badly, to that song. On some of your worst days, Jake would drive both of you around for a while, singing extra badly just to make you laugh.
You wondered whether there would be time for Jake to show you around town. If there was, you would have to play that song again for old times’ sake.
Why couldn’t you stop thinking about him? It was like he had infected you somehow, because every time you thought of home, you didn’t think of your family, you didn’t think of your apartment, you thought of the moment where a snowflake melted on his nose for the first time. 
You thought of the moment when he tugged his sweatshirt over your head. He had knocked the hood back from your face so tenderly. At the time, you hadn’t paid it much attention, too worried about revealing your feelings. Recently, you had been thinking back to it often. 
What would have happened if you had kissed him then?
Did the way he tucked your hair behind your ear mean anything?
You knew that you didn’t share most of your little reminders and memories with him. The traitorous part of your brain suggested that he had those same moments that he just wasn’t telling you about. The sensible part argued that he would have told you by now. Jake had never been as shy as you. He couldn’t possibly be harboring the same feelings, could he?
Even if he did, would you say anything? You suspected that you wouldn’t be able to.
If I had the chance
If you asked out of the blue
How I really truly feel about you
I don't have a clue how that would go
As time went on and your friendship stayed close, Jake was getting incredibly good at reading you. He’d always been able to figure you out, but your ability to hide from him was waning. That was more good than bad.
When you had a bad day and tried to bluff your way through, not wanting to put a damper on the limited time you got to spend with him, he could always see right through you. Jake saw how you tried to keep your knee from bouncing and forced your fingers to unclench when something made you anxious. You knew he had gradually catalogued things likely to make you anxious from the way he tried to avoid putting you in the position of encountering them. If you had to, he would position himself almost imperceptibly to shield you.
He caught how your face would fall when you thought no one was looking if you were sad. He knew you didn’t like attention drawn to you, so he would tug you somewhere private and pull you into his arms. Jake couldn’t solve everything, and he knew it. But he could--and did--ensure that you knew he was there for you. That warmth sustained you through many days.
You could do much the same with him.
Jake pushed his hand through his hair when he was agitated, usually when he needed to be distracted. Sometimes, you would make a funny face and wait for him to notice. When he saw the face, a laugh punched out of him and made you giggle. Often, that was enough to loosen him up enough to talk to you.
Other times, he wouldn’t even look at you, so you had to resort to other measures. You would flop onto his lap, or make him a mug of tea and shove it under his nose, or settle a blanket over his shoulders. Once, he had been so zoned out that you had pulled on the most frightening Halloween mask you could find and startled him with it. Jake had nearly fallen off the couch, but it had worked. He tugged the mask off of you and then laughed as he pulled you into his chest.
“Dumbass,” he’d called you affectionately. You’d never liked an insult more.
The problem, of course, with him being able to read you so well was that he might be able to see your feelings for him. Jake was brave, far braver than you. If he noticed the way you looked at him, he would ask.
And if he asked?
You couldn’t lie to him.
But could you tell him?
Could you take the chance of losing your best friend?
Oh, if I had the chance
Would I really tell you?
Would I bare my soul and maybe end up crying in the bathroom?
Or would I ask you to kiss me slow?
You spent the whole flight worrying about whether he would notice and ask. You had never gone so long without seeing him and as a result, you missed him so much more than normal. Surely it would be too obvious for you to hide. The plane was landing soon and you weren’t sure what to do.
Though, there had been one other occasion where you were this bad at hiding your feelings.
Jake had come to visit for a week and you had just broken up with your boyfriend the night before. It wasn’t that he had been a bad boyfriend. He just wasn’t Jake. You had tried not to compare them, but in the end, you hadn’t been able to help it. Your subconscious mind, longing for Jake and no one else, would whisper what he would have done that your boyfriend didn’t do.
It was certainly fateful timing on Jake’s part to visit when he had. Whether that was good or bad, you still didn’t know.
Either way, when you had picked him up from the airport, he had picked you up and spun you around as he always did. You had held on just a little longer than was friendly, but he hadn’t said anything about it. In fact, he had squeezed you tighter, as though he could tell that you needed the comfort.
It was sheer luck that he didn’t catch all the times you just watched him. You weren’t strong enough to keep it to a minimum. How could he not know, you had wondered, just how much he meant to you?
One thing you had managed to do when he was there was keep your liquor under control. You didn’t need a drunken confession of feelings ruining a friendship. Still, looking back to that week, you were surprised that the man who could read you so well hadn’t seen the way you almost couldn’t bear to be far from him. 
Then again, maybe he had noticed and had simply decided to spare your feelings and, like you, prioritize your friendship.
That fear surfaced again, grabbing you by the throat as your plane taxied into the gate. There was no way you could keep your feelings under wraps this time. The best you could do was perhaps control when he found out.
Would a moment’s worth of mustered courage be enough for you to get the words out? Would they stick in your throat until you choked on your feelings?
If you did get them out, what would he say? Surely he would tell you that he didn’t feel the same and could no longer be friends with you. The reality that this trip could end in tears and be the last you ever saw of Jake Seresin weighed heavily on your chest.
Ready or not, the line of people was slowly but surely filing off the plane. You would have to face him sooner or later.
 You took a deep breath and stood.
'Cause you are on my mind
When I miss the snow
You show up when I hear that song or
I finally start watching that tv show (oh)
I don't know why every time
That I think of home
I can picture you standing in the cold
But I, I'm scared 'cause I don't know
If you and I are in the same boat
Bonus:
When you made it out to the baggage claim, you did a double take when you saw none other than Jake Seresin standing there waiting for you.
You saw the exact moment when he spotted you. His entire face brightened, and a grin replaced his concentrated frown. The space between his brows had scrunched ever so slightly as he scanned the incoming crowds for you, but it melted away. The man scanning the crowd had been Lieutenant Jake “Hangman” Seresin. The one who saw you was just Jake.
He met you halfway, sweeping you into a tight hug that knocked the air from your lungs.
“How did you know I was coming?” you asked, muffled by his shirt.
“Phoenix.”
“Traitor!” You had told her you wanted to surprise Jake and asked where you could find him when you got in. She’d given you the information, but apparently, she’d also blabbed.
He laughed, letting you go at last. “Don’t be mad at her. We all went out for drinks last night and she had one too many.”
“But I was gonna surprise you.” You dropped your gaze from his in an attempt to hide your disappointment, but you could hear how small your voice sounded.
“You still did, I promise,” he reassured quickly. “Honestly, until you walked through the door, I thought she’d been pulling my leg.” Jake paused, starting to lead the way out of the airport. “I’m glad you came.”
You looked back at him for a moment before responding, “Me too. I’ve missed you, Jake.”
“I missed you too.”
The walk to his truck was short, and too soon he was taking your carry-on to lift it into the backseat. You climbed into the passenger seat as he did, and then the two of you were off. The first notes of his favorite song played over the speakers, making you laugh. 
“Hey, now, this is a classic,” he teased, reaching over to shove your shoulder.
“No, no, it’s not that,” you managed through giggles. “It’s just so… you.”
Jake glanced at you briefly. His eyebrows were furrowed again. “Is that a good thing?”
“Yeah.” You just watched him softly as the single word slipped from your tongue. You watched his face change just a little to something you couldn’t read. Was that the wrong answer? 
He started singing not long after, building gradually until he was belting out the tune. You didn’t have to imagine him there this time, you could really hear him. You just hummed along, joining in for the occasional harmony. You had missed moments like these with him.
“Long flight?” Jake asked when he pulled up to your hotel. So he had noticed that you were quieter than usual on the drive.
You nodded, taking the offered way out. “Worth it though,” you added, looking over at him.
“How about you get checked in and take a nap this afternoon, then?”
“I’d feel bad--I came to see you, not to nap here!”
“We’ll go for dinner tonight, I promise.”
“I’m not that tired,” you tried to insist.
He turned toward you in his seat, saying your name sternly. “You’re here on vacation, so you’re gonna rest. If--” he cut himself off, clamping his mouth shut before more words slipped free.
That made you pause, watching him more closely. “If what?”
“If it makes you feel better,” he picked back up with a sigh, “I can stay and we can put a movie on or something. Only if you promise you’ll rest at least a little.”
“Really?” You were excited and nervous and shocked all at once, but you couldn’t help teasing him. “Even if I want to watch The Princess Bride?”
That pulled a heavy sigh from him, though you knew full well he only pretended he could’t stand it. “I guess,” he said at last, drawing out the words. “Deal?”
“Deal,” you confirmed, grinning brightly at him.
“Alright then, come on.” He shook his head at you, but you saw the matching grin he wore as he got out of the truck and came around for your suitcase.
You checked in quickly and pulled Jake along into the elevator. The first thing you did when you got into the room was flop down onto the bed. It was a standard hotel bed, but your nerves from the flight had exhausted you more than normal. That thought brought it all back and you realized you hadn’t been worrying from the moment you saw Jake until now.
At least you still had your face hidden in the sheets so he couldn’t see your expression tighten. 
He just chuckled at how you’d flopped down and joined you on the bed. He was close, and already looking at you when you finally turned your head to look up at him. You propped yourself up on your elbow as he extended an arm to you.
This wasn’t the first time you had leaned into his side to watch a movie, but it was the first time you were worried that you would reveal your feelings by doing it. Still, you let him tug you under his arm. You could let yourself pretend your feelings were returned for just a little while.
Jake was right, you didn’t stay awake for much of the movie. If you had been aware, you would have been sad to just barely miss the witty banter between Inigo and the Dread Pirate Roberts as they dueled. Jake’s chest was just too comfortable a pillow. 
He didn’t mind.
You stirred awake close to the end, when Westley was threatening Humperdinck with a duel ‘to the pain.’ It always made you giggle.
You hadn’t even realized that you had wrapped yourself around Jake until you shifted a little and felt his arm tighten. Somehow, during your nap, you had thrown your arm across his middle and tangled your legs between his. He must have thought you were just stirring a little, because he just pressed his cheek to your head and hushed you gently.
“And then my ears, I understand. Let’s get on with it,” Humperdink said on the screen.
“Wrong!” you mumbed along with Westley. “Your ears you keep and I’ll tell you why.”
“You know this too well,” Jake teased. 
“I’ve seen it once or twice,” you hedged with a shrug. “You know you love it.”
“Maybe.”
“Admit it, it’s adorable,” you pressed, poking him lightly in the ribs.
He gasped in mock betrayal, catching your hand with his free one. “I might have, except now you’re trying to tickle me!” You were still sleepy enough that your hands were easily restrained.
“You could be Westley, I think,” you said, nuzzling closer to his chest. 
Jake’s thumb skimmed slowly back and forth across your shoulder. “Is that so?”
Was this your chance? 
You wanted to tell him why he was wonderful enough to be Westley, all his qualities you loved. You could tell him that like Buttercup, you couldn’t love anyone but him. You could tell him that when you were homesick, the home you pictured was him that day in the snow. You could tell him that his stupid favorite song always made you smile, no matter how terrible a day you had had, simply because it made you think of him. 
You could tell him all of that. But that would come too close to an outright confession.
You had to tell him.
You couldn’t tell him.
The words bubbled up into your throat anyways, choking you.
A small, hopeful part of you told you to be brave, but you found yourself physically unable to speak.
You should have forced those words out. They would have made more sense than what did come out, though that was no less true. As it was, your mouth formed words almost of its own accord.
“You’re my Westley.”
Your only hope was that the words had been too quiet for him to hear. After all, they slipped from your tongue on a mere whisper of a breath. 
If it had been anyone else, if you had been anywhere else, they would have gone unheard. But the room was quiet, and Jake was completely focused on you. He heard your confession whispered into his shirt. You knew he had heard you when his hand on your shoulder froze.
In the deafening silence that followed, you wondered if you would learn what a heart sounded like when it shattered. 
As the silence stretched longer, you braced yourself for his inevitable exit from your room and your life. 
When he still didn’t break the silence, you wished he would say anything, even a rejection. It would be preferable to the hell that was anticipation.
After you judged that it had been long enough that the only answer could be a bad one, you started to pull yourself away. Jake’s arm tightened around you, keeping you pinned to him. That was enough to make you tilt your head up to look at him.
“Do you mean that?” he asked, his voice hoarse. You opened your mouth to respond, but he cut you off again, “I need to know if you mean what I think you mean.” His very serious gaze flicked between your eyes, searching for something.
You weren’t entirely sure what that meant. Did he need to know because it would be weird if you were into him? Or did he need to know because he felt the same?
It was the small, brave part of you that answered. “I mean it.”
“Good,” he breathed out. “That’s good.”
“Is it?”
“Yes. I want to be your Westley.”
That made you prop yourself up on your elbow so your gaze was level with his. The way his eyes glittered, you couldn’t help but think back to that snowy day so long ago.
This time, you let one hand reach up to the side of his face, brushing back a lock of hair before continuing down to his cheek. His sea-green eyes drifted shut, just before you could drown in them. Your fingers traced the line of his jaw lightly.
“Kiss me?” you asked at last.
Jake moved in an instant, his eyes flashing open as he rolled the two of you over. As he leaned over you, you felt like you were sure Buttercup had when she was in Westley’s arms again at the bottom of the hill. 
“Ask me again?” There was an honesty in his eyes that made you willing to ask.
“Kiss me?”
He smiled this time, and it was like the rising sun to your eyes. “As you wish.”
You grinned for just half a second before his lips were on yours. It was nothing like you had dreamed, it was so much better. You had thought that a kiss with Jake would be hard and fiery. It was almost the exact opposite.
The kiss was soft and sweet--hesitant, even. His hands were warm on your skin, creating goosebumps as his fingers brushed across gently. His weight pressed you into the mattress, reminding you that this was real, that he was holding you. Your senses were consumed by him entirely, your fingers twisting into his hair.
It was so much more than you could ever have imagined. You had imagined that kissing him would be an adventure, a rollercoaster, fireworks. In reality, kissing Jake was coming home. It was a quiet peace in your soul that told you everything was going to be okay, even when it wasn’t, because he was by your side.
When he finally pulled back, your eyes drifted back open slowly. Then he grinned and kissed you again joyfully.
You had finally found the answer. Jake was in the same boat as you.
Top Gun Taglist:
@malindacath @army24--7 @mads-weasley
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talonabraxas · 12 days
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The Sky This Week from May 31 to June 7: A Jupiter-Mercury conjunction
The parade of planets starts as two worlds come close and the Moon moves on down the line in the sky this week.
Friday, May 31 Although the Leo Trio of galaxies gets quite a lot of fame, these aren’t the only deep-sky objects to chase down within the Lion. With no Moon in the sky after sunset tonight, consider hunting down another of this constellation’s galactic gems: NGC 2903. In fact, many skywatchers wonder how Messier could have missed this gorgeous spiral, whose brightness is on par with other galaxies the Frenchman did spot in Leo.
NGC 2903 sits just below the big cat’s “chin.” To find it, first look west an hour after sunset, where Leo is slowly making its way down toward the horizon, now 50° high. You’ll easily spot the constellation’s alpha star, magnitude 1.4 Regulus, as one of the brighter suns in this region of sky.
From Regulus, see if you can find the rest of the Sickle asterism, which looks like a backwards question mark in the sky. The Sickle’s blade ends at 3rd-magnitude Epsilon (ϵ) Leonis; from this star, scan 3.3° west to land on 4th-magnitude Lambda (λ) Leo. And from there, simply drop 1.5° south to view magnitude 8.9 NGC 2903.
This spiral galaxy is roughly twice as long as it is wide, stretching about 12.6′ on its long axis. It is considered one of the finest NGC objects, and a medium-sized telescope (4 inches or so) will begin to resolve its brighter nucleus and fainter halo into distinct regions.
Sunrise: 5:34 A.M. Sunset: 8:22 P.M. Moonrise: 2:06 A.M. Moonset: 1:52 P.M. Moon Phase: Waning crescent (39%)
*Times for sunrise, sunset, moonrise, and moonset are given in local time from 40° N 90° W. The Moon’s illumination is given at 12 P.M. local time from the same location.
Saturday, June 1 June opens with a gorgeous dark evening sky that might allow you to catch a glimpse of noctilucent clouds floating high above the northern horizon. These stunning, reflective clouds are unique in that they are composed of ice crystals that condense largely on high-up dust particles left behind as meteorites streak into the atmosphere.
Noctilucent clouds form in the mesosphere, some 60 miles (100 kilometers) above the ground. Because they are so high up, they can remain in sunlight long after the Sun has gone down for those on the ground, thanks to the curvature of Earth. Thus, these clouds can appear to shine high in the sky even in the dark of night, while lower, “normal” clouds are dark blots without illumination.
There’s no special equipment needed to view noctilucent clouds, just a little luck and some patience. Step outside an hour or two after darkness falls and turn your gaze north. Note that even though they’re high in the atmosphere, these clouds may be low on your northern horizon depending on your latitude, so try to get to a viewing site where that direction is clear of both obstacles and artificial lights. Look for wispy, silvery clouds that appear lit up rather than dark or dusty. Like the aurora, noctilucent clouds can come and go, and displays may ramp up slowly — but hopefully the mild weather and moonless skies will allow for some additional stargazing even if no night-shining clouds appear!
Sunrise: 5:33 A.M. Sunset: 8:23 P.M. Moonrise: 2:30 A.M. Moonset: 3:05 P.M. Moon Phase: Waning crescent (28%)
Sunday, June 2 The Moon reaches perigee, the closest point to Earth in its orbit, at 3:16 A.M. EDT. At that time, our satellite will be 228,728 miles (368,102 km) away.
The Moon then passes 2° north of Mars at 8 P.M. EDT. Both are visible in the morning as part of the line of planets now shining in the pre-dawn sky. So, step outside early this morning about an hour before sunrise to find Mars and the Moon both in Pisces, standing 15° high at that time in the east.
The waning Moon lies west of Mars early this morning, sitting to the Red Planet’s upper right in the sky. By tomorrow morning at the same time, the Moon will be an even thinner crescent to the east of Mars, having moved to its lower left.
An hour before dawn, three planets in the six-world lineup are already visible. Mars and Saturn are both 1st magnitude, with Saturn far to Mars’ upper right (west) in Aquarius, nearly 30° high at this time. Neptune lies between them in Pisces, about 5.5° below magnitude 4.5 Lambda Piscium. The distant ice giant is magnitude 7.8 and requires binoculars or a telescope to spot.
Wait 30 more minutes, and Uranus (magnitude 5.8 — again, requiring optical aid) and Mercury (magnitude –1) have risen, with Uranus some 4.5° high and Mercury just 1.5° high. Magnitude –2 Jupiter is just rising at that time, and will need a bit longer to climb above the horizon. See if you can catch it just before sunrise, though be careful to look away and stop using binoculars or a telescope several minutes before the Sun rises from your location, which may differ from the time given below.
This lineup of planets will feature throughout the week, especially as the Moon passes through the line and Mercury and Jupiter meet in a close conjunction in just two days. Stay tuned!
Sunrise: 5:33 A.M. Sunset: 8:24 P.M. Moonrise: 2:54 A.M. Moonset: 4:18 P.M. Moon Phase: Waning crescent (18%)
Monday, June 3 Asteroid 2 Pallas is currently moving through Corona Borealis, now within the constellation’s southeastern border. Tonight, the 9th-magnitude asteroid sits just 20′ from a magnitude 6.5 field star, but there’s actually a much easier way to find it.
Because of its location and the rotation of Earth, you can let nature do the work for you. Center your telescope on magnitude 4.1 Epsilon Coronae Borealis and simply lock it in place without tracking, so the sky appears to drift past. Within 20 minutes, Pallas will be in the center of the field!
Corona Borealis has been recently making headlines for a different star: T CrB, a star just 1° southeast of Epsilon. Normally magnitude 10 and requiring the aid of binoculars or a telescope to see, T CrB is expected to suddenly and briefly flare sometime in the next few months, reaching a naked-eye magnitude of roughly 2. Tonight, Pallas is nearly 3.5° east-northeast of T CrB; it will close in on the variable over the next few weeks and pass within ¼° of the star later this month.
Sunrise: 5:33 A.M. Sunset: 8:24 P.M. Moonrise: 3:21 A.M. Moonset: 5:34 P.M. Moon Phase: Waning crescent (10%)
Tuesday, June 4 Let’s hop back to that parade of planets early this morning to check out a close conjunction as Mercury passes 0.1° south of Jupiter at 6 A.M. EDT.
At that time, sunrise has already reached the East Coast, while the two planets are just rising in the Midwest. Mercury lies just to the lower right of Jupiter and binoculars or a telescope will show both within the same field of view. No matter your time zone, you can catch the pair about 20 minutes before local sunrise, when they are some 2° to 3° high. It’s definitely a challenging view, but a rewarding one. Note that Mercury will continue sliding east over time, so those in time zones farther west may see Mercury directly below or even to the lower left of Jupiter in the sky.
They’re a stunning contrast — the solar system’s smallest and largest planet, together in one view! Mercury spans some 5″ and appears nearly 90 percent lit. Nearby, Jupiter is more than six times as wide at 33″ and is fully illuminated by the Sun. Its four Galilean moons are on display, though they will be hard to make out in the growing twilight. In the eastern half of the U.S., Europa is just finishing a transit across the disk, slipping off just 10 minutes before sunrise in the Midwest, so take care if you’re trying to follow the event. After that, Europa lies closest to the planet to the west, with Callisto farther west. Io lies closest to Jupiter on the east, and Ganymede sits farther east.
Moving down the line of planets, the Moon passes 4° north of Uranus at 9 P.M. EDT tonight.
And earlier in the day, Venus reaches superior conjunction at noon EDT, which is why it’s currently invisible in the bright glare of our star.
Sunrise: 5:32 A.M. Sunset: 8:25 P.M. Moonrise: 3:51 A.M. Moonset: 6:50 P.M. Moon Phase: Waning crescent (4%)
Wednesday, June 5 The Moon now passes 5° north of Jupiter at 10 A.M. EDT. The slim crescent will be a real challenge to observe, although according to longtime Astronomy contributor Stephen James O’Meara, there are some unique and beautiful effects to be seen if you can manage it.
See if you can catch the nearly New Moon in the sky shortly before dawn. If you do, you might experience the lunar blackdrop effect, which can cast dark stripes on the last illuminated bits of the lunar crescent. These stripes aren’t real, but are instead an illusion caused by both the diffraction of sunlight and the turbulence of our atmosphere, through which we are viewing the Moon (and all other celestial objects). In fact, you might notice these stripes dance, waver, or disappear and reappear if you’re able to follow the slim crescent over time. The more turbulent the atmosphere — and the poorer your local seeing — the more likely you are to see the stripes.
Particularly intrepid observers can try to catch this effect again tomorrow morning, just hours before the Moon finally reaches its New phase.
Sunrise: 5:32 A.M. Sunset: 8:26 P.M. Moonrise: 4:26 A.M. Moonset: 8:05 P.M. Moon Phase: Waning crescent (1%)
Thursday, June 6 New Moon occurs at 8:38 A.M. EDT this morning, leaving our sky dark, moonless, and perfect for deep-sky observers.
Longtime observers know that although the images of galaxies and nebulae we see are often stunningly multicolored, most objects don’t show off vivid hues through the eyepiece when visually observing. But some do, and one of these is NGC 7662, also called the Blue Snowball and the brightest planetary nebula in the constellation Andromeda.
You’ll want to catch this object in the early-morning sky, after around 3:30 A.M. local daylight time, when Andromeda has risen well above the eastern horizon. The Blue Snowball is located in the western portion of the constellation, just under 2.5° west-southwest of magnitude 4.3 Iota (ι) Andromedae. The nebula itself is magnitude 8.3 and roughly 30″ across; it’s easy to capture in most instruments. Smaller scopes will show a small, grayish smudge. But you’ll want a larger scope to pull out its deep blue color — something in the 8- to 10-inch or larger range is a good start, but bigger is better! Make sure to use high magnification as well for the best chances at a glimpse of its beautiful blue hue.
Sunrise: 5:32 A.M. Sunset: 8:26 P.M. Moonrise: 5:11 A.M. Moonset: 9:15 P.M. Moon Phase: New
Friday, June 7 Tonight offers the first of several chances in the coming days to catch Comet 13P/Olbers near NGC 2281, a 5th-magnitude open cluster in Auriga the Charioteer.
You’ll need to be quick, though, as the constellation is setting in the west just behind the Sun. An hour to an hour and a half after sunset, you’ll want your telescope trained on eastern Auriga, just to the lower right of the bright stars Castor and Pollux in Gemini. Tonight, Olbers lies some 5.7° north-northwest of magnitude 3.6 Theta (θ) Geminorum and just 2.2° southwest of NGC 2281. The comet is currently around 8th magnitude, so a few magnitudes fainter than the open cluster but still bright enough to pick up in relatively small scopes as long as the atmosphere is clear and calm. An observing site that is slightly elevated above its surroundings and with a clear western horizon will help, too.
Discovered by William Herschel in 1788, NGC 2281 is a loose collection of young stars spanning about ¼°. Astronomers estimate the cluster is some 435 million years old. It is among many open clusters in Auriga, including the three Messier objects M36, M37, and M38. Of these, M37 is believed to be closest to NGC 2281 in age, based on the clusters’ rotational rates.
Sunrise: 5:31 A.M. Sunset: 827 P.M. Moonrise: 6:04 A.M. Moonset: 10:15 P.M. Moon Phase: Waxing crescent (2%)
The Sethian Gnosis by talon Abraxas
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miabrown007 · 9 months
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Felonies and Other Love Languages
Adrien Agreste: rich, lonely, freshly aware of the fact that he's expected to take over not a fashion, but a drug empire. Marinette Dupain-Cheng: broke, angry, freshly aware of the fact that bringing down drug empires is a blast. But where would she be without her team, Alya and Nino, and her very good friend, Luka? Not to mention the team’s newest addition, the kind, the funny, the ultra charming Chat Noir. If Marinette likes him, that’s alright, though. It isn’t like she’s dating Adrien Agreste for real. It’s all just part of her ten-step plan to make the Agrestes meet their demise.
Chapter 3 - Pandora’s Box (12,708 words, 3/32 chapters)
Adrien would like to walk along the edge of the curb with his arms outstretched. Like he used to when his mother was there, her palm hovering a breath away from his, ready to catch him anytime.
Instead, he scurries between patches of light on the crushed stone path of Place des Vosges. He doesn't understand why being late fazes him.
He shouldn’t even be here.
He should be up at the office, checking the CCTV footage with Kim to notify the police about the break-in. Or he should be at dinner, informing his father about today’s mishap. He shouldn’t be sneaking out under the disguise of meeting Chloé for drinks. And he definitely shouldn’t, under any circumstances, be searching for Carapace’s hooded figure in the shadows of the park.
In his head, Adrien knows that. But he follows his heart. And his heart rounds a corner with a leap, only to come to a halt in front of a well-lit fountain.
“I thought you wouldn’t come,” Carapace says, his eyes shining brightly over his green facemask. He has his arms crossed over his chest in what seems to be a futile attempt at keeping himself warm in the spring chill, dressed in nothing but a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles T-shirt.
Adrien doesn’t hold back his grin. With his own mask in place, it’s not like Carapace can see it. “You know what they say about curiosity and the cat.”
It’s a stupid joke, but if he made up a cat-themed persona for himself, he intends to commit to the bit. Plagg would surely be proud of him. (Even if, realistically speaking, Adrien knows that house cats, much like fathers, are never actually proud. Still, he likes to pretend that what they share is special and goes beyond owning a Blue Ribbon pedigree.)
“You expect you’re walking into your doom and still show up? Admirable,” Carapace chuckles, unaware of the truth those words actually hold. “Now come on, the others are waiting for us. I promise we don’t bite.” He starts on one of the paths leading out of the park, muttering under his nose, “Well, most of us.”
Adrien decides he doesn't actually want to know what Carapace means by that. In his hurry to catch up, the gravel almost slips out from under Adrien’s sneakers, but by some miracle—or years and years of athletic training—he keeps himself upright. “What did you say, who are these people we are meeting?”
The light of a street lamp glinting in Carapace’s glasses as he spares Adrien a glance. “I didn’t.”
It’s more than fair to receive the same non-answer to his question as Adrien had given earlier that day. Still, his chuckle is nervous. He fights the fidgety feeling that urges him to double check that the GPS on his phone is switched on.
“Don’t stress about it, they are friends,” Carapace adds in a softer tone as they exit the park on the northern side and stop in the shadow of the arcades. “We’re almost there, so I’ll have to ask you to put this on,” he says, handing Adrien a baby blue knitted scarf.
“There’s a dress code? This place must be really fancy,” Adrien laughs as he takes the piece of fabric and wraps it around his neck.
Carapace blinks at him, twice, before a chuckle leaves him too. “No, it’s— It’s for your eyes, actually. Just a precaution until we know we can trust you.”
Thank god it’s pitch dark and he can’t see the way Adrien flushes.
“Yeah, I— I knew that. Obviously!”
With much more reluctant motions, he re-ties the scarf around his eyes. He had considered swapping his contacts for glasses—for the sake of an even less Adrien Agreste™-looking disguise—but now he’s glad he’d dropped the idea. Blindfolding himself with them on would be a pain. Actually, merely existing with glasses and a facemask on is a pain, as Adrien was forced to discover this afternoon after much experimenting with the concept.
So, contacts, and anxiety over being only fashionably late it was.
“Sorry, it’s part of the protocol. Let me spin you right round here for a second,” Carapace says, his voice lighthearted. He grabs Adrien by the shoulders and turns him around a few times, until he has no idea what is up and what is down. “Thank you for choosing the Rena Rouge entertainment park, we hope you had a good time,” he says, in the worst imitation of a carnival pitchman.
Still, it somewhat eases the knot in Adrien’s stomach that’s as tight as Nathalie’s hairdo on any given day.
“And now, this way. We’re almost there,” Carapace says, grabbing his upper arm and guiding him forward.
The irony of their first meeting going almost exactly like this—only with their roles reversed—isn’t lost on Adrien, but at this point, he just follows the instructions. He's pretty good at that.
Losing his sight serves to draw his attention to his other senses. He’s acutely aware of the silence stretching between them, the noises of cars and buzzing electric advertisements on shops’ façades.
The pavement under his feet takes a sharp turn, and the city’s noises melt into the background, signalling their approaching arrival. Adrien can’t decide if that or his still spinning head is the reason he feels like he’s going to throw up his supper.
“Who is Rena Rouge?” he asks, despite his nausea.
The beam is evident in Carapace’s voice, even over the sound of a door opening and closing behind them. “Oh, Rena Rouge? Just the most amazing, passionate, talented girl in the whole wide world, who, coincidentally, also makes the best colombo.”
"Your girlfriend?" Adrien guesses.
"For the time being," a cheeky voice slices through the vanilla and pastry-flavoured air.
Carapace comes to a sudden halt. "Hey, what‘s that supposed to mean?"
"Well,” presumably-Rena Rouge says, “we are getting married sometime in the future, aren't we?"
"That's like, the worst way to put that, babe," he argues but laughs along nevertheless.
There’s another giggle, one that eases the trembling of Adrien’s stomach. "Um, guys. The plan."
"Right, the plan!" Rena Rouge confirms, as if she has completely forgotten they are, indeed, in the middle of something that is starting to feel suspiciously like a hostage situation.
Adrien, who at this point would really like to see his surroundings, shifts on his feet. "So, what's the plan?"
Suddenly, someone removes his scarf, two bluebell eyes staring into his soul. "You are the plan, Chat Noir!"
[read the whole chapter on AO3]
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southeastasianists · 10 months
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A fear of spiders, or arachnophobia, seems quite common around the world. Last year, a team of researchers published a global database showing the pervasiveness of arachnophobic sentiments in media based on their investigation of a decade of online newspaper coverage from over 80 countries. These fears remain even though less than 0.5 percent of spider species can actually harm humans through their venom, and most of these species live far from humans anyway.
But there are some exceptions—and my home country, the Philippines, is one of them.
One of the authors of the study, entomologist Aimee Lynn Barrion-Dupo, is also from the Philippines. In an interview, she explained that unlike most countries where spiders were depicted as sources of venom and harm, in the Philippines spiders figured in news reportage mostly as pets or as participants in the popular pastime of laro ng gagamba (literally “game of spiders”). The game involves catching spiders, taking care of them, and making them fight other spiders.
I know the game very well. When I was a child growing up in Laguna province in the Philippines, I played it with other kids in my neighborhood.
My father taught at the University of the Philippines Los Baños College of Forestry, which was located on Mount Makiling, some 60 kilometers away from Manila. Those of us who grew up on the slopes of the mountain would go into the forests to look for the fiercest, strongest, and most unique spiders. We would then house them in medicine bottles or matchboxes, and feed them ants, grasshoppers, and other insects—until it was time to play.
When two of us were ready to fight, we would place our spiders on the opposite ends of a stick of walis tingting, a kind of broom. Another person, who acted as a referee, was usually asked to hold the stick. Then, we’d nudge our spiders to walk toward one another and fight. The winner of the wrestling match was decided very quickly, sometimes within seconds or at most a few minutes. It ended when one of the spiders was killed or incapacitated, or when a spider either fell off the stick or tried to run away more than once.
We had names for the different spiders we commonly caught: gagambang botchog (round spider), gagambang pari (priest-like spider), gagambang ekis (spider with an X). Sometimes we would give them nicknames based on their appearances: gagambang pula (red spider) or Voltes V (after a Japanese anime character).
Could it be that this game desensitized us to spiders, making us less fearful of them in contrast to many other parts of the world?
This question interests me not just because of nostalgia for the spiders of my childhood but as an anthropologist who today explores human entanglements with other species. I’m fascinated by how we perceive and live with other creatures, including animals we pit against each other and play with—from cockfighting in Bali to bullfighting in Spain to cricket fighting in China.
When it comes to widespread fears surrounding spiders, a closer look reveals a more complicated picture of human responses and interactions with these creatures. The arachnologist David Wise, for instance, surveyed folk tales from North America to Africa that cast spiders in a positive light, leading him to conclude that not all societies are arachnophobic.
In the Philippines, a handful of scholarly accounts of laro ng gagamba depict people’s close relationships with spiders. Some of these detailed accounts remind me of my childhood days, while others go beyond my own experiences, showing how diverse and sophisticated the practice is across the country.
One example comes from an ethnographic account by cultural anthropologist Ty Matejowsky, who researched spider wrestling in Pangasinan province in Northern Luzon in the early 2000s. He recounts how boys and young men collect, train, and play with spiders, often for money. Although my experience of laro ng gagamba didn’t involve placing bets, Matejowsky sees the game as an entry point for many Filipinos into “gambling culture.” (He also presents the practice as exclusive to boys and men, but I remember playing it with neighbors who were girls.)
Matejowsky also details how players attempt to heal their spiders who may be hurt in battle. “As surprising as it may seem,” he notes, “steps can be taken to rehabilitate injured spiders for an eventual return to wrestling.” For instance, players place the leaves of ampalaya (bitter gourd), thought to have restorative properties, in the spider’s box for a few days before slowly resuming the regular diet of “insects and bits of meat and rice.”
Barrion-Dupo, with two biology colleagues, conducted a survey of 300 spider game players in Northern Mindanao from 2014 to 2015 that revealed more details of the practice. Gambling on laro ng gagamba matches, the investigators found at the time, could involve sums of up to 10,000 pesos (around US$180).
Fascinatingly, the researchers also recorded various substances people fed to the spiders to prepare for a fight. The list included various vitamins and supplements, dextrose, coconut water or meat, duck egg soup, Jujube plum fruit (Ziziphus jujuba), milk, honey, energy drinks, and even human breastmilk. The gamers usually placed these substances on cotton balls and left them in the boxes where the spiders were kept.
These details show that more than just a game, spider wrestling in the Philippines involves care and intimacy between humans and spiders. Matejowsky describes it as an “attachment … that approaches what some feel for more conventional pets.”
Today laro ng gagamba continues to be played in rural areas in some parts of the country. Barrion-Dupo sees the spider game as offering children “first steps in science and natural history,” ultimately contributing to an appreciation not just for spiders but for the environment at large.
However, the research by Barrion-Dupo and her colleagues also shows the game has a potentially detrimental impact on the populations of various spider species. Gamers usually extract mature reproductive females from the wild; female spiders, as it turns out, are more ferocious than their male counterparts. The researchers call for policies to restrict the game to prevent species decline.
As far as I know, spiders are not often included in animal rights discourses in the Philippines. (Matejowsky’s article noted spiders are considered “pests, not animals.”) However, these attitudes may change in the future; some people are already discussing the need to expand animal welfare concerns to include insects, spiders, and other invertebrates.
Even without active intervention, however, the game already seems to be declining in popularity.
When I recently returned to the neighborhood where I grew up, I was told that none of the kids ventured into the forests like my friends and I used to. During the pandemic, people were forbidden to go outdoors, and many public green spaces were off-limits for recreational activities. Plus, the advent of electronic gadgets and digital technologies has meant that children today, whether they live in urban neighborhoods or mountainous communities, are far more likely to be familiar with Spider-Man than the spiders that share their environments.
Regardless of the ultimate fate of laro ng gagamba, however, I hope our familiarity and fascination with spiders will continue.
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breelandwalker · 1 day
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Strawberry Moon - June 21, 2024
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Grab your baskets and your moon jars, witches - it's time for the Strawberry Moon!
Strawberry Moon 🍓
The Strawberry Moon is the name given to the full moon which occurs in the month of June in the Northern Hemisphere. The name is taken from the ripening of those little red heart-shaped berries we find in so many summertime treats. Strawberries are typically ready to harvest beginning around the summer solstice, though this will vary depending on variety, planting times, and local weather. Sadly, the Strawberry Moon does not turn red or pink to match the berries.
Other European names for this moon include Honey Moon, Rose Moon, and Mead Moon. North American Indigenous names for the June moon include Blooming Moon (Anishinaabe), Green Corn Moon (Cherokee), and Hatching Moon (Cree).
This year's Strawberry Moon also roughly coincides with the summer solstice in the Northern Hemisphere, with peak illumination occurring at 9:08pm EST on June 21st. (The solstice is occurring one day prior, on June 20th.)
What Does It Mean For Witches? 🍓
Full moons are excellent times for bringing wishes to fulfillment and plans to fruition, all the more so under one named after a prolific berry. This is an optimal time to make things happen!
Your intuition may be stronger than usual during this time, so pay attention to those little inklings and gut feelings that won't be ignored. They might be telling you something important. Dreams may also be more vivid, though not necessarily more accurate or revealing.
This is a time to explore things that catch your attention or pique your curiosity, and to let yourself be open to new ideas and new opportunities.
What Witchy Things Can We Do? 🍓
With a full moon ripening in the sky and the summer solstice upon us, it's time to prepare for a full bloom. Here's hoping you've been nurturing those plans and seeds of growth you planted in the spring, because they're about to start flowering and the way is clear to sow the next stage of your plans. What they will be and what new prospects the summer will bring is entirely up to you.
The full moon is always a good time to look ahead to the future. Think on the plans you have in process and let yourself dream of how things might turn out. If you're inclined to journaling, make a note of how things are going so far and how you hope they'll turn out. Pick your favorite divination method and do a reading for the month ahead. (Make sure you write that down too so you can check back later!)
This is a great time to go berry-picking or flower-gathering, so check your area for pick-your-own farms or farmer's markets with local produce. Have a picnic with friends or just enjoy a quiet afternoon with your own thoughts and a few favorite treats. Make a jar of sun tea or a sweet and summery berry salad. If you're partial to strawberries, indulge that sweet tooth!
Strawberries are also excellent ingredient in spells for love, beauty, fertility, and emotional healing. Create a charm for self-love or perhaps to attract a summer romance. Enchant your favorite makeup or skin care products with a glamour of confidence. Just as expectant mothers once carried strawberry leaves as a folk remedy for pregnancy pains, you can carry a clutch of them in your pocket to help heal a broken heart or assuage the pain of grief. A packet of strawberry leaves is also a potent good-luck charm. Snack on strawberries to bring fertile abundance into your life, whether you're looking for creativity or opportunity or perhaps hoping to grow your family this year.
Charge your crystals and spell jars and moon water under the light of Strawberry Moon to catch the energy of blooming flowers, ripening fruit, wishes coming true, and carefully-laid plans realized. (If you're planning to use it for any consumables, please make sure you're using fresh, potable drinking water rather than rain or runoff.)
Spend a little time reflecting on how your year has gone thus far. Try to focus on the things that have improved and how you've grown as a person and in your life journey. Reflect on your accomplishments and what you plan to do next. Take a moment to be unashamedly proud of yourself for everything you've done and for making it this far despite everything life throws at you.
Happy Strawberry Moon, witches! 🌕🍓
Further Reading:
Bree's Lunar Calendar Series
Bree's Secular Celebrations Series
The Full Moon of June: A Special Solstice Full Moon, The Old Farmer's Almanac.
Strawberry Moon Meaning: The Spectacular Full Moon of June 2024, The Peculiar Brunette.
Everyday Moon Magic: Spells & Rituals for Abundant Living, Dorothy Morrison.
Image Source - Pesto and Margaritas
(If you're enjoying my content, please feel free to drop a little something in the tip jar or check out my published works on Amazon or in the Willow Wings Witch Shop. 😊)
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