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azullumi · 24 days

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"orion" ; aventurine

summary : he has lived through many lives, has met many people, has gone through many places, but the shadow of your soul follows him wherever he goes and his eyes would search for a glimpse of your smile everywhere. he continues to look for the light that touches him, not the sun, not the moon, but you.

tags : star-crossed 2024, reincarnation concept, established relationship but also not established in some parts, usage of metaphors, fluff with angst and comfort, crumbs of insecure aventurine, snippets of his lifetimes and how he finds you in each one of them, not proofread sorry, 2.9k words ; one-shot

tagging : @toorurs (hi boo)

notes : i had two ideas in mind but the other was too complicated and would be lengthy so i decided to have this one instead. anwss, i hope you'll like this one!!

Aventurine has recurring dreams of you.

(It was a blessing.)

Ones that feel like fleeting moments in the wind destined to be taken away from him as soon as he tries to hold it. It crumbles into dust and falls to the ground he stands on, and he’ll try to pick up your pieces but it doesn’t stay in his hands for long. Perhaps it was meant to leave, not to last, and perhaps, he’ll hold on to what little is left of the particles in his palms.

In his dreams, you’ll kiss the scars on his skin and he’ll adore you, clear vivid eyes painted with vibrant hues that capture all his affection for you in his soft gaze (they say the eyes are the windows to the soul and you’ll see your reflection in his). You’ll tell him of all the worries that plague your mind, of all the thoughts that bothers you, of everything that you’ll think of.

“If you have 3 lifetimes, what would you do in each one of them?” You speak softly, a soft murmur to the night as you look at him with your eyes wide with curiosity. Aventurine will find himself baffled over your question, eyebrows knitted as he falls into his thoughts—he wouldn’t know what to say.

“It’s not that hard to answer, is it?”

“How about you answer first? I’m a little curious about what you’ll say.”

You hum, lips pursed into a smile as if you already know what to say, as if you’ve been waiting for the moment that someone will ask you that question; You recount your desires to him on how you want to be a bookstore owner but also a florist, on how you wish to soar the skies but also travel across the seas, on how you want to be everything and nothing all at once. 3 lifetimes would simply not be enough for your wishes.

He likes listening to your voice as you speak, adores the way the corners of your eyes wrinkle when you think of something you like. But somewhere in the back of his head, turmoil creeps into the cracks of his mind and settles on the sharp edges.

“Your turn.” You say, beaming a warm smile at him yet he falls into silence once more. He feels ashamed, humiliation seeping into the gaps of his fingers and traces the lines of his palms—you were so full of light, embodying solace in your being, you are what is adored and seeked yet he stands beside you, seemingly like a shadow that haunts your steps, hesitation lingers and tugs at his hand even when he’ll try to touch you. He’s unsure of what he wants in this life even more for the ones that will supposedly come. He finds it unfair—perhaps for you—for him.

“Still no answer?” Your voice sounds reassuring, soft as you lightly graze your finger on his skin, your ghosting touch making his lips shudder. It was comforting, the way that you’ll speak to him, the way that you’ll touch him, the way that you’ll love him—it was all warm and comforting. You brush your hand on his cheek, tucking away stray strands of hair behind his ear; “It’s alright, it was a sudden question anyways. Also, something stupid to ask.”

“No, it’s not—it’s not stupid.” He stumbles over his words; he rarely stutters, rarely finds himself tripping on the bumps of the letters that fall out of his mouth but he finds himself staggering on the line of vulnerability and uncertainty. You hum, nodding, seemingly encouraging him to spill out whatever he wishes to say because you’ll listen, no matter how ridiculous it can be.

“I just haven’t thought about it.” Aventurine, though he may not say it, doesn’t like thinking of the future. It just reminds him how everything ahead of him is just empty and narrow, it’s as if he has to walk alone.

“But I…” His voice trails off and yet a thought lingers inside his head, making its way down his throat and clawing the walls of his mouth; the more he’ll keep it in, the more he’ll taste the blood of his perished words on his tongue.

“I’ll look for you in each one of them.”

The wind blows against his and your form and he feels your lips all over his face, pressing delicate kisses all over the lines and wrinkles of his features as if a brush to a canvas. The light would become too bright for him so he closes his eyes, relishing in this moment where you hold his face in your hands as if he was made out of broken pieces carved out of people’s miseries, as if he was something fragile, and the dirt that stains the waters of his mind seemingly dissipates like it never existed.

“Another stupid question, did you know how much I love you?” You’ll whisper against his lips, a smile tugging on the corners of your mouth. Your breath tickles his skin and he can’t hide the smile that draws on his face.

“How much?”

“I’ll give the world to you.”

And he’ll wake up.

(Or perhaps, a curse.)

Aventurine stands before the colorful blossoms displayed in pots and buckets of different sizes and colors. The essence of spring dances in the air, filling the place with the scent of blooming flowers and the sight of receding snow that unveils the land below; the sight of it is not unfamiliar to him. He has seen thousands of it—the different seasons that weave its life in his surroundings and has lived through many of them.

He has had many lives and he has been everyone but also no one. He has been a puppet, a poet, a prince, a musician, a gambler. Little pieces of himself merge into the likeness that he sees in front of the mirror everyday. His form is battered, bruised, broken all over, patched and affixed together with nonviscid tape, sewed with delicate threads of fate—there are days that he doesn’t recognize the person standing in front of the reflective glass. Even if has retained most of his features, most especially his eyes, and nothing drastic has changed from what he once was; yet he struggles in seeing himself in the mirror.

“Are you looking to buy a bouquet?” A voice breaks him out of his trance, pulling him back to reality. It must have been weird seeing a man just standing for minutes in front of the displays and staring into space.

“No, not re—” His sentence breaks off abruptly when he turns his head to the sound of the voice and his eyes meet a pair that causes memories to surge like a harsh tide that pulls everything into the depths; it sweeps him under like a fierce undertow as it drags him back to the profundity of what haunts him. His thoughts that seem like old, faded photographs flicker in his mind, and the sound of buzzing fills his ears as the world comes to a still.

It feels as though the ground beneath him has crumbled away. There you are.

“Sir?” It’s you, it’s you that calls out to him and not a random person that he meets somewhere he can’t remember, not a stranger that would approach him and ask for his name, not someone that he thought was you.

“Nothing,” Aventurine shakes his head and composes himself, “I would like to get a bouquet.”

“Of course, which flowers would you like to have?”

“I’m not entirely sure. What do you recommend?” If this was his attempt of making a conversation, he lies between the line of failing and succeeding. He’s not even here with the plans of bringing home a bouquet to give nor decorate his house and he’s not even sure if he has his wallet with him.

You hum as you fall into deep thought and you begin to count tales of different flowers and paint the meanings behind them with your voice, and you come to mention one that made his heart skip like stone in a pond, and his breath hitch. You speak of a certain flower with such tender affection and all he can think of is how you used to adore this very one even back then, and how your home used to be adorned with it.

“Is that your favorite?” The golden-haired man asks, curiosity wrapping around his tone as he speaks despite the fact that he already knows your answer and you smile at him, warmly—and oh, how much he missed seeing it. It’s like he has fallen in love all over again and the colors paint all over his once bleak and mellow life. Even after all this time, all these years, all these lifetimes, he still has you carved in his soul, every part of you etched on the bumps of his skin. As if you’re engraved like a scar on his body, persisting, lingering.

“It’s a lovely flower, how could I not?” The sound of laughter forms in your throat and spills out of your lips. It’s a lovely sound that he has inscribed in the very depths of his mind, one that would muddle his sleep or disturb him in the moments of silence he would revel in, trying to find the wind to ground himself.

You’re still the same as he remembers.

Memories lie dormant like fragile butterflies trapped within glass jars, fluttering and flickering, casting shadows upon the vulnerable walls of his conscience. Remembering, a troublesome thing that weighs heavy in his mind, tugging on his thoughts, and having a tight embrace on his heart. Sometimes he thinks it’s just a dream, one meaningless and lengthy dream that is meant to harrow him every time that he wakes up. But it was real, all of it is real—the laughter, the kisses, the touches, the smiles, you. How could he ever deny your existence?

Aventurine is in his nth life, not knowing how many times he has experienced death and the feeling of waking up to a strange and unfamiliar place, while his memories would flow to him like water in a stream. It comes in slow, steady, he’ll pick up broken shards of it and keep his fingers close—it will stab and make his hand bleed.

His hand, it was yours once. Clasped, held, weaved into the small gaps of your own. You held him as if he was yours to have—and he really is. He’ll walk through the busy streets with a gaze that roams everywhere, holding the anticipation, hope, that he’ll catch you amidst the crowds of people whose face appears to be nonexistent to him.

(He’ll look for you everywhere he goes, in museums, flower shops, bookstores, in the rivers, in fields, on the ground, everywhere.)

“Oh no, I’m sorry!”

Books came falling, papers scattered all over the pavement, and he saw someone in front of him, seemingly panicking as they gather all of their things; Aventurine wasn’t a heartless man nor was he cruel so he knelt to the ground and picked up all the remaining papers before handing it to them—lifting his gaze, to be met by a pair of eyes that he looks for everywhere.

(And he’ll find you.)

There was once a moment where you remember him.

It wasn’t just a, “I passed by you on the streets and you caught my attention since and I think of you everyday,” but it was, “I know you because you existed in my life before this.” It was something he had never expected, a moment where he had to pinch himself on the thigh to see if this was one of his messy dreams but it hurt and his heart ached.

(In this life, you were lost, alone, not knowing what to do nor what you wished to do—you simply stood still as you watched the strangers passing by, as everything before you crumbled. In this life, you were nothing but his friend and he was nothing but yours.)

“I’m sorry?” He says, still in disbelief on what he is hearing. Maybe it was just his ears playing tricks on him, his mind playing illusions for him due to how much he misses you. Oh, if only you knew how tight your grasp is on him; it troubles him with the way he’ll catch you in the corner of his eye but there’s nothing there but dust, he’ll feel your presence everywhere even when you’re nowhere to be found.

“You’re him. The one that is always in my dreams.” Aventurine will open his mouth to speak but nothing would come out; he remains silent, unable to find the words to say.

“Rine.” His breath hitched. Everything faded into white noise and there was only you in his eyes—there was only you and him. He has long abandoned that name, taking on different ones in each passing life but even if he has left it behind, he always remembers how you used to call him so sweetly and gently as if he was the only one that matters to you. “I missed you.”

Your voice breaks and he swears, it felt like something inside him had shattered. How long has he waited for this moment? How much has he dreamt of the day that you’ll remember him? He didn’t think it was possible but he holds on to the thin thread of hope that you will.

“Do you… Do you not remember me?” You look hurt at that thought, your gaze wavering as you look at him with tear-stained eyes.

“I do.” He whispers, broken. “I do remember you.” He always remembers you. It’s a burden that he carries for so long but he will never let go—he wishes he could, he wishes he wanted to. Your voice, your touch, your laugh, your embrace, your eyes, everything about you will always come to haunt him; you are too entertwined with his soul, threads bound and tangled together in knots that can never be undone.

The two of you talk about everything on this night as the stars above you listen, as the moon will become a witness to the words and caresses. You’ll tell him of all the dreams that you had, memories that will haunt you the same way it haunted him.

“I’ll remember you tomorrow and even the days after. I’ll remember you, always, even in the next lifetimes.” You say, certainty and assurance seeps into the tone of his voice and a part of Aventurine feels relieved and broken at the same time.

He smiles, “You will.” (You don’t know it but this too will be buried in the grave of the past and he will come to mourn it in every moment he wakes.)

“Kiss me, please?” You didn’t have to beg for anything, you will never have to beg for anything. He has looked for the shadow of your form, for the sound of your footsteps and laughter, for the feeling of your hand in his. You will never have to beg him for anything—he’ll give you the world if you ask.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” He whispers against your lips, his warm breath fanning your skin—a contrast to the cold night breeze that brushes against you.

“You’ll hear me tomorrow. I’ll call you, I promise. So please don’t keep your phone on silent.”

“I don’t. You’re the only person on my phone.”

You laugh at that, short and sweet. “Really?”

He kisses you once more, a fleeting one but the taste of his lips lingered on yours. “I only have you.”

The night draws to a close and Aventurine waits for the sun with bated breath but you weren’t able to fulfill your promise, for on the morning when the sun’s embrace caressed your skin, you remained in slumber’s hold.

It’s his second life, the life where he first remembers everything and when he is still not tormented by the burden (a curse) that he will hold all of the memories and you will remain in each one of them.

“I have a question.”

You lay your head on his shoulder, all the while your hand plays with his own. Your fingers softly dance across his palm and mindlessly sketches invisible patterns and traces the lines etched on it, while he watches, captivated by the ballet of your touch. There’s the fresh smell of shampoo and soap in the air around him, and the warmth of his hands provides a refreshing contrast to the coolness of your skin, still tingling from your recent bath.

In this life, you own a bookstore just like you wish and he’s simply just your lover.

“What is it?” He answers, watching you as you draw what seems to be a flower on his palm. He finds it endearing, every moment that he spends with you is all too sweet and dear for him, no matter how small and mundane it can be. He adores seeing you under this light, cherishes the way you melt into his embrace and how you hold him in your arms (he wishes everything would be this simple).

“How would you know if it was me?” The movement of your fingers comes to a halt as you look up to him to meet his gaze; eyes wide with curiosity and affection, he meets your gaze. Aventurine thinks for a moment before he answers:

“I’ll know if it’s you, always.”

You let out a short laugh, your expression breaking out into a soft one. “What if I was a worm then?”

“You’ll be the first worm to make my heart flutter.” There was no need for such questions—Aventurine will recognize you everywhere, in different forms, in different light.

“What if I was a stone?”

He chuckles, “I’ll know.”

617 notes · View notes

fkinavocado · 1 month

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Daddy issues- Masterlist, Author’s Note & Warnings

extra / alternatively, read on wattpad

*timeline: somewhere after the main story

Piccolo amore (word count: 8k) -updated 8th of April 2024

You don’t know how this ever escaped you before, but as it turned out, Harry had quite the thing for travelling. As a divorced, smoking hot, young DILF (well, he was a father after all), Harry had eventually embraced his freedom after enough years had passed for him to actually start enjoying life again. He had limited visitation rights for his small daughter, Emily, so what was a divorced, smoking hot, young DILF to do other than to travel, namely through Europe, although some of his other favourite destinations had been as far away as Japan.

He was 27 when he first stepped foot in Italy, and, according to Harry, it was love at first sight. Had it not been for Emily, he’d have moved indefinitely, that’s how much he loved it there. He took extended trips though, and had even started to learn some Italian, practising everytime he stayed for as long as 2 months at a time.

As time went on though, his interior design business really took off back in the US and his growing daughter needed his presence in her life more and more, despite her mother’s interference and efforts to alienate them. Time had flown, and here he was, 43 now and no longer single this time around as he returned after countless years.

But very much still a smoking hot DILF.

…Tuscany, Italy. Literal heaven on earth. You hadn’t bought the plane tickets back yet, but you were in no hurry to leave.

It’d been a journey, getting here. And you didn’t just mean Tuscany.

It hadn’t been easy.

Days had trickled by seamlessly. You’d lost track of how long you’d been here for. It was a haze of sleeping in, sunbathing, afternoon naps, decadent food and sweaty, delicious sex.

Looking at him on the wheel of the convertible he’d rented for your stay there, your heart felt like it could inflate enough to break out of your chest. His curls were a delicious mess, he was all tanned and bright eyes as he glanced at you from time to time to flash one of those trademark smiles of his your way. The sun was setting so you’d taken his sunnies off, making him chuckle. “Just wanna look at you properly.”

“Look at the scenery! You can always ogle me but you’re not gonna have this view every day.”

“All I want is you every day.” Yes, Tuscany was breathtaking but whenever you tried to remind yourself to take it all in you inadvertently found yourself settling your eyes back on Harry. How could you, when there was a time, not long ago, when you thought you’d never lay eyes on him ever again?

He squeezed your thigh, his hand in your lap as always and you kept caressing his knuckles, probably doing a great job at polishing his rings as a result. He had to keep his eyes on the road, since these were unfamiliar places you were exploring almost on the daily and almost every road was as narrow as the last.

He flipped his palm over yours, interlacing your fingers, bringing your hand up to his lips and kissing it gently. He then placed it over his heart and you giggled as he pulled you almost completely over to his side in doing so. He let go then, chuckling in return but you kept your arm extended, and ran the back of your hand along the side of his face, caressing his cheekbone, then his ear, running your fingers through his hair a bit, then down his sharp jawline,admiring his perfect profile.

“I love you, you know,” you nearly murmured, and with the loud sportscar engine you weren’t sure he’d even heard you.

But he did. Had he still been wearing his sunglasses you probably would’ve missed the way his eyes glazed over, slowly growing sparkly in the sunset light. “Baby… none of that. Come on, let me see that handsome smile again.”

“I am smiling. I’m always smiling nowadays. Always. No matter what happens, my default state is happy, because you’re here. I just get emotional sometimes… never tire of you saying that. Never stop, please.”

It was your turn to get teary eyed. “Baby… never. I’ll never stop saying it, feeling it, showing you how much I love you. All the times I wished I could tell you and couldn’t… never taking a day for granted ever again.”

Harry was pulling over, having entered the town you were passing through to get to the small quaint village where you’d rented out a villa for your stay, and before you could ask why, he leaned over and kissed you senseless. This was another thing you’d never tire of. Harry never kissed just for the hell of it. He put his all into every single kiss, be it small, chaste peck or full on make-out session. “My little love. Let’s have gelato for dessert and then I’m taking you home to love on you, how’s that sound?”

“Can we skip the gelato?”

Harry chuckled. “Darling, are you really passing up ice cream so that I could fuck you sooner?”

“Duh. Feel like licking something else. And creampies are better than icecreams. Come onnn….”

Harry laughed out loud at that. “You’re a menace. Up you get before you talk me into this.”

You rolled your eyes playfully but he was already at the passenger door opening it for you then reaching over to the backseat to grab your jacket. It could get chilly even in the warm summer evenings sometimes. He kept it in his one hand and held yours in his other as you began your slow stroll through the nice little town, but Harry seemed to know where you were headed.

“You got a specific place in mind?”

“Mhm. Used to come here often back in the day. Hope it’s still running, they had the best gelato. A… uhm, local brought me there, so you know it’s the real deal.”

“A local, huh?” You teased. Of course you knew what Harry must have been up to on his trips here when he was younger. Nothing wrong about it, of course, and you felt silly for being ever so slightly jealous over it. Part of you wished you could’ve been together much earlier on, but of course, the age difference would’ve made it impossible anyway. You two had met at exactly the right time. Even so, sometimes you felt nostalgic over the lost time you could’ve had together had things been different. Some of which was just life… and some of it, your own doing.

“Signor Harry!”

Your eyes widened at the interaction between the two men, snapping out of your train of thought, the guilt ebbing away but never really going away, ever.

You couldn’t understand Italian, but Harry was still pretty fluent, at least conversationally. He understood it more than he could speak it, at least that’s what he claimed, but ever since you’d arrived in Tuscany he only spoke Italian to everyone he interacted with. You just sat back and admired him, Italian sounded hot as fuck coming out of his mouth. You could tell there was always some sort of talk about you going on with the way the people he was speaking to kept looking at you; and the little you did understand- “bellissima”, “ragazza”, “amante”- you knew that was in reference to you.

This instance was no different, the old man he’d encountered behind the gelato stand seemingly very interested in knowing more about you. Lord knows what Harry was telling them, they all had the same excited reaction, shaking his hand and patting him on the back, sometimes they’d wink at you and it’d make you all flustered.

“Piccolo amore, what flavors would you like, hm?” He pulled you closer into his side.

“Har, they’re all in Italian…”

He pointed at each, translating for you. “Bourbon vanilla, but I guess you got that, Belgian chocolate too, ummm, rum and raisins, strawberries, mint chocolate chip, lemon, meringue,...” he clarified with the older man and then continued “figs, pistachio, dark chocolate, crème brûlée–”

“Oh gosh, stop, I can’t even keep track of so many… just get me what you think I’ll like, alright? What are you getting? Mint chocolate chip?”

“Duh,” he mimicked you from earlier and smothered a kiss on the top of your head, then gave the old man your order. He’d gotten a cone with two scoops for you, which he handed over promptly. “There you go, lovie. I got you dark chocolate and pistachio.”

“Perfect,” you beamed.

“Sorry, they didn’t have creampie.”

You nearly choked on your first taste of the icecream but promptly remembered the older man probably didn’t know what that was. Hopefully. Or if it sounded familiar he’d probably think of an apple pie with extra whipped cream, or something. Hopefully.

“It’s ok, that’s what you would’ve wanted anyway,” you teased and gave him a pointed look. He’d slurped you clean from behind as recently as that morning. He pinched your hip he was resting his hand on then diverted his attention to his double scoop of mint chocolate chip, on a cone just like yours. Harry exchanged some more pleasantries with the old man, as well as paid for the gelato, then after you waved at him politely you resumed your stroll through the old historical town.

Harry loved throwing his arm over your shoulders, or better yet, keeping a firm hold of the back of your neck as you walked. He’d always been possessive of you, and, if anything, he was even more so in Italy where men had a distinct way of ogling women, even catcalling- something they’d never dream of doing with Harry by your side, of course, but their eyes roamed freely scanning you head to toe, and you could feel it everywhere you went. Harry must’ve been hyper aware of it too, maybe more so than you were, because he would snake his hand into your hair and angle your head sufficiently to kiss you- the minty, cold feel of his tongue against yours novel and refreshing. Or even slide his large palm in the back pocket of your jeans, giving your bum a firm squeeze every now and then. “Love this plump arse.”

You puffed through your nostrils, “you better, it’s your fault it’s getting so big. First that fancy pasta and wine for dinner, not gelato, and it’s been like this ever since we got here. I barely buttoned up these jeans today. Gonna have to resort to just wearing my sundresses.”

“You’ll hear no complaints here. Besides, I did say I’d feed you and plump you up, didn’t I? You’re about the same as you were when we first met. Perfect.”

He was right. You’d lost a significant amount of weight in an unhealthy way during your time apart. And he was looking so much healthier too. Happier.

“You’re beautiful either way, Y/N. I just want you healthy and happy. And I know for a fact pasta makes you happy, so…” he shrugged playfully and you kissed his dimple. You knew he was thinking about the same things you were.

It was hard letting go of the past. You couldn’t erase the time apart and the damage it’d done to both of you and your relationship. But for the past 5 months you’d been rebuilding it, day after day, brick by brick. Some days were tough. Especially at the beginning. It’d taken a lot of love, patience and understanding on both sides to get where you were now.

But it was always in the back of your mind.

You still woke up in the middle of the night, startled, somehow back in those crappy places you used to rent out while you’d been on the run. Only for Harry to tighten his hold around your middle, kiss your shoulder gently and reassure you he was there and he wasn’t going anywhere. Ever.

Harry battled insomnia for a long while, something he’d suffered with while you’d been apart and couldn’t seem to shake off. It reached a point where he now was struggling not to doze off while softening, still inside of you, cuddling in your post orgasmic bliss, before he could clean both of you up. Took a lot of night-long marathons to get there, but it did the trick. The flipside was you calling him an old man. But what else was new?

It still felt weird drinking wine by yourself at dinner, since Harry was now completely sober. Had been since he’d found you waiting on his doorstep. He’d struggled with it at first. It’s hard giving up alcohol cold turkey especially considering it’d gotten to the point where he got into the habit of getting wasted and getting himself into trouble while you’d been apart. Just to… feel something.

You didn’t know how he’d done it, but he hadn’t had a sip since you’d been back into his eyes. You knew it must’ve been really difficult, but he kept the struggle to himself. Focused on you and your fragile relationship.

It’d been particularly hard that one time when you went out with his extended group of friends for Halloween and he found himself in a social setting where everyone was drinking around him, for the first time in a long while. And that would’ve been manageable had he not had to watch a new addition to the group give you a hickey, in a game of truth or dare. You still remember how hard it’d been for Harry to reign it in that night- not just the need for alcohol but also keeping himself in check, doing his best to calm down in the bathroom and then leave the party inconspicuously before anyone got hurt. He tried to hide it from you but you found him in time to help him as best you could. You never wanted him to feel like he had to tackle all his demons alone.

That had been the biggest hurdle so far, but he’d made it through sans incident and you were so proud of him. You didn’t care giving up drinking for his sake if it meant it wouldn’t be a trigger for him, but he assured you that you could indulge whenever you felt like it and that it wasn’t your fault he had to give it up completely.

You could argue that it was, in fact, your fault. You had argued. You two didn’t see eye to eye on this at all, Harry insisting he wasn’t going to let you take the responsibility for it all: after all, his daughter had caused it all to spiral out of control- he should’ve told her off, been more assertive, taken control of the situation; hell, he should’ve raised her better!

But you tried your best not to go there, the two of you. Not anymore. You’d talked things out for a long while, and just decided it was better not to keep bringing up the hurtful past. There was no use anymore. You’d both learned your lessons from it and it was time to live in the moment. Create new, happy memories, that someday, maybe soon, would completely make up for those 17 months in which you’d both just… existed, at most.

And even when you got teary eyed, like earlier in the car, you didn’t have to speak the words to know what the other was trying to convey and how it all still hurt so much sometimes that it felt like the present was a sweet dream, a bubble ready to burst anytime, only for the two of you to wake up each in their own miserable existence, apart and alone.

It still hurt. You both still hurt, but you couldn’t change the past. So instead of pretending it never happened, you acknowledged it, and acted on it the best way you could, doting on eachother with as much love as you could.

Therapy helped a lot. Gave you the tools to work through it and turn it into a valuable lesson, if anything.

“You make me happy.”

He kissed the top of your head in response, “think it’s time to head back home. You’re getting needier by the minute.”

You squinted your eyes at him. “Well, excuse me for being a loving girlfriend I guess.”

“Oh, I know you are, baby. And I love it. But whenever you get like this I just know you’re gonna get all whiny and bratty if I don’t fill you up soon. Hm? Am I wrong? You’re gonna tell me you don’t feel all achy already?”

You huffed. Darnit. He knew you all too well.

“And then if I don’t act on it quick enough you turn bratty. So c’mon.” He placed your jacket he’d been carrying for you over your shoulders, “it’s getting a bit chilly, too.”

Harry was right, as always. You found yourself squirming on the ride back to the villa, rubbing your thighs together. Sure, the wine always got you a bit needy. But you’d acted pretty needy the whole trip. You were just so content and he looked so good and tan and radiant whenever he smiled, he spoke Italian in that low timbre, he fed you goodies and took you to see beautiful places, and then on top if it all he fucked you good and made you feel so loved and appreciated.

You just couldn’t help it. Your dynamic had shifted slightly ever since you’d gotten back together. He’d always been dominant but now you just naturally stepped wholly into your feminine energy in his presence, letting him take over completely- and not just in bed. You were his and handed yourself over to him fully. And it was palpable. You knew he could feel it too.

However, he was right about you getting bratty if he didn’t shower you in affection the moment you craved it. Be it because you were in a public setting or what, sometimes you wished you could just hop in his lap and forget about everything and everyone around. He made you crazy with want and need and you were still growing to learn this side of yourself, as he was learning to manage it. You trusted him to lead the way.

You just got impatient sometimes. Maybe a bit bratty even, as he put it.

You scooted closer to him, as far as your seatbelt allowed, and reached to kiss his jaw. You didn’t just stop after a loud smooch though, no, you started mouthing and nibbling at his jawline, licking your way up to his ear and making him shiver. He was cleanshaven, and you took full advantage.

“Just a gentle reminder that I’m driving a motorised vehicle, sweetheart.”

“I know. You always focus and prioritise our safety, driving so aptly down these narrow roads. And then when we’re on longer strips ahead you really hit the gas, so that my hair can fly all wild the way I like and I can throw my hands up and almost feel like I’m flying, and the car is all horsepower and you look like sex personified.” You brought your hand to his lap and began rubbing dangerously closer and closer to his crotch.

“Y/N,...” he warned.

“What? I can’t help it. Whenever you rev the engine it tickles me, daddy… can feel it in my pussy. Now I’m all drippy.”

“Told you you’d turn into a whiny brat. Scoot back in your seat and be a good girl for daddy. Go on, don’t make me ask you twice.”

You huffed irritatedly and did as instructed, crossing your arms over your chest and looking out the window at the scenery trying to distract yourself. It was dark out now and Harry had pulled the top on the convertible, so you really didn’t understand what the big deal was. You could’ve at least given him a handjob…

But finally, finally you got to the villa and as soon as Harry shut the door behind you, you literally jumped his bones, making him chuckle between the kisses you were peppering his whole face with.

“Uff, needy puppy. What’s gotten into you, hm? You’re extra lovesick today. Didn’t I fuck you good and proper this morning? I’m certain you remember it since you had to mention it in front of poor Luciano. He’s 79 you know. What if he’d had a heart attack?”

You gasped in mock offence, “excuse me?! You’re the one who brought it up!”

“I sure did, wanna see?”

You pushed at his shoulder at his stupid pun as he brought you to the bedroom. He was unfazed of course, you couldn’t budge him if you wanted to, and instead threw you onto the bed with a bounce as if you were a throw pillow he’d been carrying, not his “plumped-up” girlfriend.

He began unbuttoning his shirt, a sight you’d never tire of and you squirmed gawking at him before he pulled you by the ankles to the edge of the bed and peeled your jeans off. “Ufff, look at this weepy little pussy. You made a mess of these panties, Y/N,” he tsked and it only made you grow wetter. You loved it when he teased and even humiliated you a bit. “So, are you gonna answer me or not? What got you so cockdumb, darling, hm? Was it the wine?”

“No,” you whined, “you know I only had two glasses… it’s not that. Plus I ate enough carbs to make up for it, anyway.”

“Then what is it, hm?” He rubbed his hands up and down your legs, kneeling at the foot of the bed, and then pushed your knees to your chest, running his large palms over the back of your thighs.

You threw your head back against the mattress in anticipation and whined pathetically. He was right. You really were extra sensitive tonight. “I’m… I guess I’m ovulating. That must be it.”

Harry groaned deep in his chest and plunged nose first into the fabric of your panties, inhaling deeply. “You smell so heady whenever you ovulate, you know that? Pussy so fragrant, makes my mouth water.”

You’d not gotten back on birth control after so long off it. After a long while of relying on condoms you decided to ditch those, too. Harry pulled out most times, but, since creampies were obviously a hot topic in this relationship, you did ask him to finish inside you occasionally.

Lately it had been more often than not.

You both knew the implications of it, had discussed it. Hell, Harry definitely had a breeding kink to start off with, had had it even while you’d been on birth control since having this kink didn’t necessarily imply actually wanting to get you pregnant.

He’d expressed it was definitely more than just a kink though, and that he’d only ever felt this way about you. But it was up to you. He already had a kid, all grown up now ( even though Emily was still a delicate topic between the two of you). But you were young and he wasn’t too old to be a father by any means, you had time along the line for this, there was no rush, and there were no expectations either way. That being said, he did express his desire to have children with you if you deemed him worthy of it and if you even saw yourself as a mother someday.

You’d not made up your mind about it, however. You were open to the possibility, but definitely not actively trying for a baby, not yet at least. You still felt like you needed more time together just the two of you.

But the way he spoke to you whenever he talked about fantasising knocking you up really got to you. And he felt so good fucking you raw, felt so good filling you up. It felt so natural and your body craved it, craved all of it. It was primal, and you knew it, but it felt so good to just listen to what your bodies dictated instinctually.

You mewled and felt him pull your panties to the side, “fuck, Y/N. You’re drenched, baby. Why didn’t you tell daddy it was this bad, hm? Would’ve eaten you out in the restaurant’s bathroom or something.”

It wouldn’t have been the first time, either. No better than a couple of horny teenagers, really.

His mouth on you was divine, as always. You often wondered if other men even knew how to eat pussy the way Harry did. Seemed like some sort of special talent you were either born with or doomed to live without. He knew what you liked and needed better than you did. How else would anyone explain that you could never dream of getting yourself off the way Harry did?

He pushed your knees further back and really dug in after he promptly peeled your panties off of you. You wanted to beg for him to sink into you but you knew Harry never left a job unfinished, and whenever he ate you out he never left from between your legs until they were shaking and you came on his tongue at least twice, out of which at least once using his fingers also to open you up for him properly. Because, still, after all this time, you couldn’t really take Harry without some sort of warm-up, no matter how drippy you were for him. It was a struggle fitting him in whenever you tended to forgo foreplay, and that was something you fully enjoyed too. Loved the pain that came with him slowly feeding that massive cock of his into you, trying to make it fit inch by delicious inch. But that was for when you were either in a hurry of some sort and desperately needed to squeeze in a quickie, or for when he was feeling particularly mean dom-ish. You rarely got to experience Harry in that mindspace though, and even then he was never hurting you really. It was just a lot rougher and because it was such a rare treat, it was secretly your favourite.

This time, however, you’d seemingly forgotten how Harry had warned you not to get bratty. “Not in a hurry, baby. Gonna feast on this pussy for as long as I damn well please. After all, you know how much I love edging you, and you do need to be punished, hm? Brats don’t get to come. At least not until daddy says so. You’ve been warned, Y/N.”

“But daddy….” you whined pathetically, “I’ve been on edge all day, you can’t do this, not now… please!”

“Should’ve been patient, baby. Told you I’d take care of you when we got back. And I did take care of you this morning, you’re acting like a spoiled brat. Can’t have that can we?”

You kicked your legs a bit and Harry delivered a harsh slap to your bum followed by another swifter one to your pussy, making you keen and pant heavily. “Don’t test me, Y/N. You wanna come? Then be a good girl and take it. Begging doesn’t hurt either.”

You did take it, as best you could. And you did beg. You needed to come desperately but Harry kept edging you for what must’ve been at least over half an hour, although it felt like hours on end.

Then, you decided to switch tactics. Try and play on his own desires.

“Ugh, daddy, please, please fill me up. My pussy needs it, I need to be full. Need it so much. Need your big fat cock to ram into my cervix over and over again. Need to feel you in my tummy. And my tits feel so heavy and tender, at least show them some love, daddy. Please… ovulating is making me feel crazy… My body needs you to mark it every way you can, daddy. Please…”

Harry chuckled sardonically against your pussy, making you tremble but you knew better than to get lost in the feeling and let yourself come without permission. “I know what you’re doing, sweetheart. What a desperate, filthy little thing, playing with me this way. You really must want it bad to taunt daddy like this.”

“I do, daddy, I do, I swear I do… I’d do anything. Just tell me and I’ll do it. All I want is for you to fill me up to the brim and then keep going. Cause I know you can, I’ve seen you do it… I love how you stay hard for me even after you finish, pumping your come back into me again and again and then going all night long until you have me choke on you so that you could unload down my throat this time… please, want it again daddy, I know you can… don’t you want to? Doesn’t have to be my mouth the second time around, you can come inside me again, make it catch. Knock me up. Tie me down.”

Harry groaned loudly this time around and pushed your thighs apart, hovering over you whilst his hand went directly around your neck, squeezing enough for you to roll your eyes to the back of your head. He eased up a little for you to focus your gaze back on him before he licked his lips, your juices all over his face that he’d shaved clean that very afternoon before you’d left for dinner. You loved how he did that sometimes, just as much as you loved his stubble. It was a nice switch and he looked just as handsome either way, you couldn’t make up your mind which you preferred more. However, you did feel grateful he’d shaved before edging you like this for so long, otherwise you’d have been sure to chafe a bit from all the friction his stubble would’ve inflicted.

“Careful, sweetheart. You’re playing with fire. You know all too well I’d love nothing more than to fuck a baby into you. I already creampied you this morning, we’re on dangerous territory as it is.”

He was right. You knew he was. But in that moment, fuck it if you cared. If anything, you two had learned how to just be, live in the moment. Tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed.

“All I know is that I want you, all of you. Forever. Whatever that means. Let’s just… be.”

Harry pressed his lips against you and kissed you thoroughly. He’d long since undressed as well, stroking himself languidly every now and then as he ate you out. He didn’t edge himself, you’re the one who needed to be punished, but he just couldn’t help himself. He wanted to be inside of you just as much as you did. But Harry had one thing you lacked which was self control and that’s one of the things that made him such an apt dom in the bedroom.

So, it was easy to slip right inside of you, your pussy swallowing him up hungrily and squeezing him tightly, lest he pulled away. It was such a heady feeling finally being full after craving it for what felt like ages that he’d been edging you, and it only took a few minutes and his permission for you to come hard all over him, making a mess of both of you and the bedding. Luckily the villa had another bedroom you’d not used yet so you didn’t have to worry about changing the bedsheets before you went to sleep.

“That’s it, baby, fucking drench me. Fuck, you were ready to burst weren’t you? My poor darling. Daddy really did a number on you tonight. Gonna keep on coming for me, really open you up for me. How’s that sound? We’re gonna go from edging to overstimulating this poor, sopping pussy.”

You cried out real tears of pleasure as he was dirty talking all throughout your orgasm, never slowing down, no reprieve. He was hellbent on going from one extreme to the other. “Gonna open you up real good, push myself in so deep you’ll feel it for days. You wanted all night? I’ll give you all night.”

Harry didn’t let up. Had you coming on his cock over and over again, your orgasms closer and closer together the longer he went. Flipped you around on your hands and knees, then your stomach, then onto your side, and when you were ready to pass out… the sadistic bastard made you ride him.

You did your best for a good two minutes, until he huffed mockingly. “What’s the matter, sweetheart, thought you wanted to go all night long. You’re barely moving. That’s not very nice, after you begged me to give you my cock for so long.”

You got whiny and frustrated at his teasing tone and really did your best but your thighs were already shaky from all those orgasms, you simply couldn’t muster up the strength. Harry kept mocking you, sitting back, hands behind his head “no better than a pillow princess, look at you. You shouldn’t talk the talk if you can’t walk the walk, baby.”

“Daddy… please… I can’t…”

“I know you can’t. What, you want daddy to do all the work, hm? Nothing but a hole to come into, that’s what you wanna be? Do you think this is what all those Italian women Luciano saw me with year after year did once I brought them back with me for the night? Pfff…”

“Daddy!!!” You cried out. “You’re being cruel…”

“Am I? I haven’t even finished once and you want me to keep going after that, meanwhile you can’t even ride me properly. Silly girl… claimed you wanted me to breed you. Want to be a mother? Gotta be a woman first, learn how to satisfy your man.” He reached over and smacked your bum, which propelled you further, almost dismounting him.

However, the tears that immediately flooded your eyes took you by surprise. This was not the first time Harry had degraded you in bed. You loved it and he knew you did. It was a rare treat, just like him getting rougher with you, which he hadn’t tonight. You usually got off embarrassingly quickly to it, and you knew he’d never say anything with the intention of hurting you.

Harry laughed sardonically but when you pulled back up whatever he’d been gearing up to say got lodged in his throat when he saw the tears gleaming in your eyes, your hands crossing and going to your throat protectively as you straightened up. He immediately pulled out and sat you on his lap, scrambling to cradle you to his chest. “Fuck, baby, you know I meant none of that– you know that! We were playing. You usually love it when I degrade you a bit… I’m such a silly man. Should’ve known better than to go there.”

He spoke softly, caressing and petting you all over, rocking the both of you back and forth and shushing you as you still hiccuped your tears against his chest. “I know… I know you didn’t mean it, but… I just… I was already wondering about them since we got here, I’ve been meaning to ask about what yo– what you used to do when you’d come down here, but I was too much of a coward. I– I got really upset just thinking about it. I know it’s silly… and it’s probably what’s been making me so needy, even before I began ovulating… I just can’t stand the thought. And knowing what… I mean– when we were apart… ughh. I just can’t stomach it, Harry. You were entitled to… You were single after all… in all of those instances… but… but, you’re mine, and…”

“I am yours. I’m yours, Y/N. I pushed it too far… I know your legs are all shaky, I made you ride me on purpose just to mess with you a bit,… but I took it too far.” Feeling you calm down ever so slightly, he pulled away and made you look at him, pushing your hair behind your ears and smudging your tears away. “No one, and I mean no one can ever dream of coming close to you. You hear me? Nobody’s made me feel better, ever. You’re all I could ever dream of, you need to know this Y/N. I’ve never been as compatible sexually with anyone the way I am with you. You think anyone else’s made me finish and then keep on going the whole damn night? Not even when I was younger, let alone now. If I’m any good it’s your own merit, you make me want to push myself and do better, be better for you, every damn time. You make me hard just glancing at you. You’re the best I’ve ever had. And I’m not just saying it to undo the silly stuff I said earlier, none of which was true. I know how jealous you get, I love it a bit too much when you get like that… and I love mocking you and seeing you get all squirmy and embarrassed– but that’s not how I should’ve done it, I went too far. I didn’t mean any of it, please believe me Y/N. I swear it. You’re all I want. I’m the luckiest bastard. Please believe me, sweetheart.”

“I know… I know it, rationally. But it just… rubbed me the wrong way, even though we were playing and I knew better. I’m sorry.”

“No need to be sorry. I’m sorry. I’m a fucking idiot. Please forgive me.”

“I do. It’s alright. Let’s forget about it, alright?”

Harry looked heartbroken. You’d not really seen him like this for a while and it pained you, so much so that you wish you could’ve just kept your mouth shut and went with it, since you sincerely did believe none of it was really true.

But you swore you’d be truthful to one another, and especially in the bedroom Harry had insisted so much on you voicing any sort of discomfort regarding anything, no matter how small. You never safe worded, hell, you didn’t have one, because you never needed to; he knew how to read your queues and you’d never had to stop anything before.

This was the first time you’d stopped sex.

Eventually, you took a shower together where Harry doted on you and handled you with utmost care and tenderness. Then took you into the other bedroom where a fresh bed awaited and held you tight into his arms. “I love you so much, Y/N. You mean everything to me. I hate that I made you cry, hate that I made you feel even for a second like what I was saying was true at all. It makes me sick to my stomach…”

“Would you… want to tell me about them? The women you met here?”

Harry sighed profusely. “Darling, there’s nothing to say. Meaningless people that I can’t even recall the name of, if I even knew them to begin with. I remember nothing about any of them. I was trying to heal after the divorce, trying to let loose a bit… tried to have a bit of fun, lord knows I needed to get out of my head. Looking back, it’s almost laughable. I really thought I’d hit rock bottom back them… little did I know, it could be so, so much worse than that.

“But… at the time, I felt miserable. I began travelling like I told you a few years after the divorce and I quickly became enamoured with Italy specifically. I don’t know… I just love this country. The women… were a means to an end, I was never looking for anything serious, and they knew it. I wasn’t leading anyone on. Never met someone I connected with. I told you, I’d never been with anyone serious after my divorce until you. I’d never known sex could be this way til I met you. Sure, I’d discovered my more dominant side a while back, not gonna try and lie and say I’ve not had plenty of experience in that regard. But, sex is just sex, at the end of the day. Some partners were better than others, and when I was here back when I was younger I hadn’t even indulged in most of my kinks and fantasies yet. It was later on that I embraced all of that.

“But trust me when I say, I’ve never clicked with someone sexually like this. I don’t know if it’s because I’d fallen in love with you, at least in the beginning I wasn’t looking for this to get serious, as you know. But we did click from the start, you just… you just fucking do it for me, Y/N. Our bodies just call out to one another. You’re so responsive and you always know just what to do or say to me to make me lose my fucking mind. We’ve been together for so long… or should I say- I’ve been in love with you for so long, you’d say my desire would’ve dampened with time, or that sex would start to become monotonous eventually. I don’t think it’s that way at all. I feel like it just keeps growing somehow. I never get my fill with you. Feel like a fucking teenager with a loveboner dancing around your skirt all day long. You make me feel like that, no one else. Do you believe me, Y/N? Madly in love doesn’t even cut it. I worship you.”

You were lost for words. You’d been looking into eachother’s eyes this whole time and you couldn’t explain how this man had just made you go from crying, jealous, frustrated and feeling less than, to feeling like the luckiest woman to walk the earth. “I do believe you, Harry. You don’t have to keep explaining yourself. We’ve played like that before and I always took it well, in fact I love it when you get all condescending and mean and it gets me off embarrassingly quickly usually. I don’t know what it was… maybe you’re right, maybe it hit a little too close to home, but I do know you didn’t mean to. I wish I hadn’t had this reaction, but–”

“No, baby, don’t say that. Don’t try to take the blame in any way. I take full responsibility. I’m just glad you know it wasn’t true… I hope you do, hope you’re not just saying that.”

“I’m not, I swear I’m not. I do believe you. And I love you, too, and needless to say no one has ever compared to you, ever. Maybe I’m not as experienced as you… but I don’t have to be to know I’d have never found a better match than you.”

It was Harry’s turn to get teary eyed as he whispered, “you don’t know how much it means to me… that you didn’t– while we were apart; and I wish… I wish I could take it all back. Had I known I’d ever find you… or that you’d ever want anything to do to me ever again… I’d have never–”

“Shhh. It’s alright, baby. I don’t hold it against you. All of it is my fault– no, don’t interrupt me. It’s the one thing we can’t seem to agree upon. I just want it to be clear, once and for all. Us separating and all the heartache and misery we both went through was my own fault. Not yours. Not Emily’s. No one else’s but mine. I should’ve never left the way I did. That was… an inexcusable betrayal… I did it for what I considered to be the right reasons, lord knows I did it with the best intentions. Never meant to hurt you for one second. I really thought I was doing the right thing, I knew you’d never choose between us.

“So I took the decision for you. Which was a gross overstep. I crossed such a huge line, taking that decision for you, not even discussing it with you, abandoning you. I hurt both of us so much. I was so stupid. So… don’t talk to me about feeling guilty. I know what guilt feels like and it’s something I have to live with for the rest of my life. You did nothing wrong. Nothing. You did what you could to keep pushing, to give you at least a semblance of normalcy. I’d never hold it against you, I truly don’t, Harry. So please… don’t paint me into this hero for not having slept with anyone else while we were apart. It would have been torture for me had I done it. As I’m sure it was for you, and that’s why you did it, so you could punish yourself some more. Don’t think I don’t know that. I don’t pretend to understand what you went through fully… but just know I went through hell as well, at my own doing.

“I’m not even asking for your forgiveness. I could never dream of it. I’m so incredibly happy you gave us another chance… No one else would’ve. I still don’t know how you could do it. Still don’t know what I deserved to have you back in my life. So, all of this nonsense about people you’ve fucked in the past and what they were like? That’s so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. You love me, and god knows I love you, and that’s all there is to it. Nothing else matters.”

“It fucking tears me apart to hear you speak like that, Y/N. I’d go through it all again if it meant I could take away your own pain. I do forgive you, no matter how unworthy you may feel, you’re worth it to me. So worth it. Fucking love of my life. I’d go through hell and back for you. I’d have never stopped searching for you. Never. My life is barren without you. Nothing matters. Children or no children, married or not- all these things I try and contain myself about and not overwhelm you with… are just me being greedy and wanting more and more of you. I never want you to feel pressured in any way. I’m content just being here with you in my arms and looking into your beautiful eyes. It’s all I ever wanted. And it’s more than enough.”

“I know, baby. You’re not pressuring me. I want to make you happy. It’s all I want. That makes me the happiest. I’ll give you everything you want. And not from some place of feeling indebted to you… to make up for all the hurt and suffering I caused. I just want to make it clear, because I know you, and I know you might suspect that of me. No. I meant what I said earlier… I’m not exactly saying we should try for a baby… but maybe we shouldn’t be avoiding it at all costs, either. Let’s see where life takes us. We can handle it, right? We’ve proven as much. Just imagining you with a baby in your arms is getting my ovaries in a knot. Maybe we should listen to what our bodies are trying to tell us.”

Harry rested on his elbow, leaning over you. “You really mean it, baby? You’d want that, truly?”

You nodded slowly and Harry grinned the biggest smile you’d seen on his gorgeous face yet. It dawned on you then and there that he’d been really holding back on how much he truly wanted this. It was enough to erase any shred of doubt from your mind.

He proceeded to pepper your whole entire face in enthusiastic kisses, down your throat and all the way to the insides of your palms. He then pulled your back to his chest and cocooned you in the warmest embrace telling you over and over again how much he loved you and how happy you made him.

And just when you were on the verge of falling asleep, you heard him whisper in your ear, “I can’t wait to wife you up… my little love.”

Daddy issues- Masterlist

A/N: it's taken me a long time to get here ❤️ this is the truest version of my babies, good and bad, they're definitely not perfect but their love is ❤️ thank you for being so patient with me and for sticking with me along this beautiful journey. i'll keep writing check-ins for them, promise! any prompts are welcomed!

P.S.: 🍭 anon, this was supposed to be your much awaited balcony scene but i got... distracted. don't worry. it's gonna happen... eventually 😅

💕 like & reblog if you enjoyed this, lovelies, and most importantly, please come share your thoughts on it here 💌

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#harry styles smut #dilfrry #harry styles #dilf harry styles #dadrry #daddy harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles prompt #harry styles concept #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles reader insert #daddy issues #harry styles writing #harry styles fic

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puck-luck · 18 days

Note

okay since you wanted requests to switch it up a bit.. could you write trevor zegras x fem!reader smut where his gf is less experienced than him and wants to give him head but she’s never done it before so he guides her through it 🫣

other requests: “could you write a smut with some fluff in it too, with trevor zegras walking his gf through giving him head because it’s her first time and she’s nervous/doesn’t know what to do”, “obsessed with the idea of trevor zegras talking his gf through how to give him head when it’s her first time and she’s nervous about not knowing what to do.. like literally giving her instructions throughout, with lots of praise and reassurance, but also dirty talk bc let’s be real, it’s trevor.” warnings: oral (f and m receiving), dirty talk, inexperienced reader x experienced partner, praise, coming on face, masturbation joke warnings: tw: los angeles angels (i prefer the dodgers), in a world where tz never broke his ankle during the 2023-2024 season… pairing: trevor zegras x inexperienced!fem!reader summary: see requests above. wc: 3089

Trevor Zegras was the most giving, patient man you had ever known. Maybe his patience came from having younger siblings, but it was more likely that it came from years and years of working with teammates in a cutthroat sport. You had grown up watching hockey, gaining intimate knowledge of the sport when you had started dating Trevor. Trevor, in exchange, found himself more than knowledgeable about baseball, the sport of your choice, than he ever needed to be.

You two had met when you came to Anaheim, having graduated a year early from college with a degree in Sports Marketing. You had landed a job with the Los Angeles Angels, which had relocated you to the area, and you couldn’t imagine your life going any other way. There were times when you missed your family and missed home, but once you had gotten settled into your job and you had met Trevor, Anaheim started to feel like the home you’d been destined to find.

Anaheim was also an escape from your hometown– a place where, despite your best efforts, you did not feel welcome. You had told Trevor early in your relationship about your lack of experience sexually and tried to explain it away with a long-winded story about being a “weird kid,” but Trevor had brushed it off and told you he didn’t mind your inexperience. He was happy, he said, to teach you everything he could. All you had to do was say the word.

So, you’d worked up to it. You’d slept in the same bed, touched him, and he had touched you. Hockey season had helped the pace of your relationship, with Trevor traveling almost every other week. He was gone for two weeks straight in January, traveling from coast to coast, and it was then that you had shyly admitted to him through the tinny speaker of your phone how badly you wanted to suck him off.

He had fumbled with the phone, groaning at the idea alone of your mouth around his length, and it had resulted in a long FaceTime call in which you watched him fuck into his hand, telling you how much better it would feel if it was your mouth.

It was the Monday night after they had come back. Trevor had had a game on Sunday at Honda Center against the Rangers and spent the night at his place because it was closer to the rink. As much as he was itching to see you, and your heart was beating out of your chest at the idea of seeing him and going through with blowing him, you were scared. Trevor knew that you were nervous, the anticipation was getting to you, just from the way you were texting. The messages were shorter. You weren’t initiating conversation as much. The times between your responses were longer.

It didn’t matter, though. He was coming over tonight.He was going to cook you dinner. He was going to set the mood. He was going to make you comfortable if it was the last thing that he did, and if it meant that you wouldn’t get your mouth on him at all, he was okay with that.

Trevor arrived at your apartment about an hour after you got off work. Spring training was starting in just a month, so things were starting to pick up for you. You were stressed, plenty of tasks on your plate and most of them half-finished. A relaxing dinner with your boyfriend was going to provide a needed distraction.

Trevor had let himself into the apartment and was already pan-searing some cubed potatoes when you got out of the shower. He was in complete boyfriend mode, having stolen your apron and thrown it over his bare chest. You could see his tattoos from where you were standing, the ones littering his arms and the delicate one on his ribs, and you smiled.

He seemed like a tough guy, your boyfriend. He had the tattoos, the athletic ability, the sculpted form and ridged muscles of an athlete. Anyone who saw him in the supermarket might think he’s an asshole, but the second they get a good look at him, they’ll realize that he’s just a softie. He tied a delicate bow around the curve of his waist in your baby blue and frilly apron.

“I can feel you looking at me,” Trevor said. You watched his bicep ripple as he moved the potatoes around the pan with a spatula. He threw a glance over his shoulder. “Oh, good, you’re actually there. Could you imagine me saying that to the air?”

“I can, actually,” You replied with a laugh. You walked over and hugged Trevor from behind, arms wrapped solidly around his figure as you squished your cheek against his back. “I bet you did.”

Trevor sputtered out a denial, shaking his head. He relented just seconds later, unable to keep up the bit. “You’re right. I thought you were there like two minutes before you actually were.”

You giggled and pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades.

Trevor placed the spatula down on the counter, then turned the burner off and moved the pan to a different spot on the cooktop. He turned in your arms, inching over just a bit so that you were trapping him against the counter, not the oven. He gasped, reaching up and cradling your face in the palms of his hands.

“What?” You asked.

“You’ve gotten even prettier in the two weeks that I haven’t seen you,” He marveled, tilting your head from side to side as you rolled your eyes.

You pushed away from him, walking out of the kitchen.

Trevor trailed behind you like a puppy.

“You’re a loser,” You said.

“I love my pretty girlfriend,” Trevor replied.

As you passed the couch in your living room, Trevor tackled you over the arm of the object and you fell onto the cushions. You shrieked at the contact, at the fall, and squirmed in Trevor’s grip as he kissed over your neck and face. His fingers were digging into your sides, causing you to giggle and snort between breaths. Trevor was relentless, until he decided to plant a kiss on your lips.

He captured your lips with intent, slowly slotting your bottom lip between his. Trevor always kissed you with purpose, slow, like he was trying to memorize you. He slid his mouth into your tongue like he was trying to lap up your sweetness, keep it on his tongue until he could place your taste and replicate it in a dish or a drink, something he’d be willing to consume every day for the rest of his life. You liked most when he nibbled on your bottom lip before pulling away, something that was so trademark Trevor that it made you breathless. He would always pull back just to look at you, to push your hair out of your face, before diving back in.

He kissed you so gently, so sweetly, that when you felt his bulge press against you, you were almost caught off guard.

“Been thinking about you,” Trevor purred against your lips. “About what you said the other day.”

You froze and Trevor pulled away, hovering over you. He searched your face carefully.

“We don’t have to,” He reassured you. “You know we don’t have to. I’d never make you.”

“I want to,” You replied, voice small. “I’m just… scared.”

“Scared of what?” Trevor asked.

“What if I gag and I throw up all over you?” You cringed at the mere thought. “I’ll die if that happens.”

Trevor stifled a laugh. “I’ll shower and I’ll wait two weeks before letting you near my dick with your mouth again,” He answered, an easy smile turning up the corners of his mouth.

You pouted at him. “You’re not taking this seriously.”

“I am!” He protested. “Baby, you’re not going to throw up on my dick.”

“What if I do?”

“I just told you what we’d do if you threw up on my dick!”

“Okay, well, you’re not being very supportive of my fears.”

Trevor sighed and placed his hands on your shoulders. He stared deeply into your eyes. “I understand you are afraid of vomiting on my penis. I assure you, that will not happen.”

“How can you be so sure?” You whined.

“It’s never happened before,” Trevor said. He leaned down to kiss the spot under your ear. “Plus, baby, I’m going to go so slow that you’ll be begging for more by the end of it.”

A shiver ran down your spine at that, the way he whispered the words in your ear so his hot breath danced over your skin igniting a flame between your legs.

“Why don’t,” Trevor began, his hand making his way to your clothed mound, “I show you just how good getting head would make me feel?”

His deft fingers rubbed in circles over your clit, the pressure just intense enough to make you moan.

“Would you like that? I’ll get my tongue on you, make you come once, maybe twice…” Trevor kissed you, his lips sliding over yours, his tongue teasing its way into your mouth then out of it. “And then we can revisit the idea of getting your mouth on me?”

“Yeah,” You agreed lamely, the heat between your legs growing more slick with each circle of his fingers and each wet kiss.

Trevor stood from where he was lain on top of you. He untied your apron, which you had almost forgotten he was wearing, and tossed it to the side. He grabbed under your knees and dragged you down towards the arm of the couch, throwing one leg over the arm and setting your other foot on the floor. He kept a hand on that knee, rubbing smooth lines up and down your skin with his thumb. With his other hand, he traced the line of your folds through the fabric of your sweat-shorts.

They were a loose pair, gray and almost threadbare after years of washes and use. The fabric of the shorts was the thinnest barrier Trevor could have faced. You could have put on panties when you got out of the shower, but had opted just for these shorts instead. They were more comfortable. Now, they were just something stopping him from getting his mouth on you.

Except, it didn’t stop him.

Trevor mouthed over your clit, giving it an open-mouthed kiss. You whimpered at the shock that it sent up your body, causing your fingertips to twitch at your side. He ran his tongue over the length of your pussy and chuckled to himself when your hips jumped beneath him.

“Relax, honey,” Trevor said, his words muffled because he was still pressed against you. “Relax and enjoy.”

His fingers came up and moved your shorts out of the way, revealing you to him. Chastely, he kissed your folds, then pointedly blew cold air over your entrance.

“Trev,” You let out, reaching a hand towards his, still rubbing on your knee. He intertwined his fingers with yours, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

Trevor licked his way up to your clit again, capturing it between his lips and sucking. He rolled the bud on his tongue, causing your hips to lift again. “Be good,” He told you, voice low. His eyes were closed as he continued to lick over you, practically french kissing your lower lips the same way he would the ones on your face.

It was a gradual build, the coil in your stomach tightening. You squeezed Trevor’s hand and ground down on his tongue. He flattened his tongue against your clit, letting you hump it, before he tensed it at your entrance and prodded his way into you. He flicked the muscle fast, and the sensation was all too much for you.

You came undone with a loud cry, your thighs closing around Trevor’s head involuntarily.

He continued to lap at your release, cleaning you up and only stopping when you relaxed beneath him and pushed him away.

“How was that?” Trevor asked, his face level with yours.

You reached out and looped your arms around his neck, dragging him forward until your lips crashed against his. This kiss, at your direction, was much more passionate. You could taste yourself on his tongue and you moaned into his mouth. You turned, pushing at Trevor until he was the one seated on the couch. You found yourself on his lap, grinding down on his bulge.

“So you liked it?” Trevor asked.

You let out a laugh and sucked a hickey under his jaw. “Teach me how to make you feel good like that.”

Trevor shuddered when you scraped your teeth over his pulse point. “On your knees,” He told you. He guided you, with a hand on your shoulder, between his legs.

The sight of you there, feet tucked prettily under you, hands clasped in front of you, has Trevor’s dick twitching in his pants.

“Take my dick out, baby,” Trevor said, his voice soft but firm.

He lifted his hips as you pulled at his shorts. They pooled around his ankles, leaving him in just his briefs.

“Give me your hand.”

You reached up and he took your wrist, guiding your hand toward his bulge. He let your hand rest just to the side of him.

“Touch me. Over my pants.”

You traced the line of his dick over his pants, biting your lip when it jumped under your finger. You palmed him, fitting your hand over the curve of him and beginning to rub him up and down.

Trevor’s head tilted back and he let out a groan. “Faster.”

You sped up, just as he had asked you to, bringing your other hand up to cradle his balls.

“Fuck,” Trevor moaned, inadvertently tipping his hips up into your hand. “Take it out.”

You rushed to do so, scraping your nails against his sides when you pulled at his waistband. Trevor hissed at that, but didn’t say anything. When his dick was revealed to you, standing proud and dripping from the tip, you took it in your hand and leaned down to hesitantly lick his slit.

Trevor’s hands flew to your hair, the strands falling between his fingers. “Again,” He breathed out, eyes wide.

You licked his tip again, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“Oh my God,” Trevor drawled out, borderline whimpering. “Baby, fuck, please.”

You smiled, proud of yourself for reducing him from someone who was so sure of himself and so loud to someone who is whining just from your touch. You circled your lips around his lip, sucking lightly.

His dick twitched. “So good,” Trevor praised. “Can you take more?”

You nodded out of instinct, but the sensation made him garble out an unintelligible string of words. You sunk down lower on his dick, feeling your lips stretch as you take him down your throat. You bobbed your head up and down slowly, feeling how he slid in and out of you. The taste of him on your tongue was addicting– salty and just so man. You moaned, the vibrations enveloping Trevor’s dick in a way that made him buck up into your throat. You gagged, a tear forming on your waterline.

Trevor grabbed your hair and pulled you up, just barely off the head of his dick.

“You okay?” He asked. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you gag.”

You cleared your throat and nodded. “You taste so good, Trevor.” Trevor’s jaw dropped at the tone of your voice, light and innocent and sexy because it was worn with use.

“Fuck, suck me again, just take it,” Trevor encouraged, gathering your hair into a ponytail.

You lowered your mouth onto Trevor again, tracing your tongue over the vein on the underside of his dick. You used one hand to pump the part of his dick that you couldn’t fit into your mouth. You bobbed up and down, covering your teeth as best you could, but Trevor relished in the ghost of a scrape over his member when you got caught up in the moment.

He was groaning, babbling above you, his abs flexing as he drowned in pleasure. His face was flushed and you whined when you saw the mark that you left on his sharp jawline.

“Baby, you’re so good,” Trevor groaned. “You’re gonna make me come.”

You reached a hand down into your shorts and fingered furiously over your clit, swooning with the sensation there and of the weight on your tongue.

Trevor leaned forward and spotted your movements, saw your hand moving from inside your shorts. “Oh my God, fuck, yeah, make yourself come, too, baby…”

You gave it your all, twisting your hand around the length of Trevor that wasn’t inside your mouth. Drool slid out of your mouth, offering plenty of lubrication for your hand, making it easier to jerk him.

“God, fucking– baby, let me come on your face. Please, wanna see it on you,” Trevor begged.

He said it right as your fingers teased your entrance in just the right way, and you came for the second time that night, kneeling on the carpet for your boyfriend’s pleasure.

You pulled off of Trevor, but kept your mouth open, sticking your tongue out. He took his dick in his hand and jacked himself off quickly, hand flying over his length.

“Close your eyes,” Trevor warned, panting like he couldn’t catch his breath. “Don’t– fuck– don’t want to get my come in your eye.”

You obeyed him, reluctantly losing sight of his figure. There would be plenty of other times where you could watch his face contort with the bliss of his orgasm, but it’s nothing compared to the feeling of his hot, sticky come fall on your cheeks before Trevor aims his release at your tongue.

“God, Y/N,” Trevor groaned out. “I kind of want to take a picture of you like this.”

“Can I open my eyes?” You asked, “Wanna look up at you.”

“Yeah,” Trevor agreed, eyes fluttering as he took in the sight of you with his come on your face. When your eyes opened and met his, he felt himself starting to harden again. “Now I really want to take a picture.”

You wiped some of the come off of your cheek with your thumb before licking it off the digit. “Next time. I believe you promised me a home cooked dinner.”

notes: dear trevor zegras, i <3 you and think we could really get up to no good if you'd just give me a look. also, i wrote this at work. also, also, my coworker was sitting next to me and one of the elderly ladies asked me what i was typing. no comment.

#puck-luck's fics #trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras x y/n #trevor zegras smut #nhl smut #nhl x reader #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #andy writes anything🍄#tz11 #hockey smut

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joshleyson · 5 months

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THIS IS: SIARGAO ✨

December film dump 🎞️

Growing up in Mindanao for almost 2 decades and never actually being able to traverse the picturesque landscapes in the eastern part of the island is something that I know I have to break before the year ends. So I did.

I flew from Manila to Cebu so early in the morning to catch a connecting flight to Siargao by noon. Traveling to Siargao was a lot of firsts for me. Not having to go to every detail but when the plane was about to take off to Siargao, we were all offloaded due to the bad weather on the island. Fortunately, instead of having to fly back to Manila, the airline was kind enough to take me to a nearby hotel in Cebu, all expenses paid including food, transportation, and next-day ticket. It was an unexpected staycation which surprisingly I enjoyed.

Coming from a very tiring day at work and then going to the airport, I felt like I really needed this quiet time, and I was able to check in to this lavish hotel all by myself while waiting for my flight the next day. Also, I had a great night as well in Cebu catching up with one of my long-time friends and her beaux. I went back to my hotel around 3 in the morning because there’s just so many things to catch up and I really missed my homie so much. Keyword: low-maintenance friendships.

So the day finally came, and I was able to land safely on the island of Siargao. Right off the bat on my first night, I had a lovely dinner with my travel friends slash buddies at work and we went to a bar, and danced the night away which to me serves as a prelude to the great experience this vibrant community had in stored for me as a Mindanaoan that have never set foot beyond the confines of Zamboanga and western Mindanao.

We spent our days being on the road which to me was such a release. Being able to smell the fresh ocean breeze while blasting our favorite Y2K songs in the car and relying on Waze or Google Maps for our next destination, to me, makes the trip so much fun because of the spontaneity and unpredictability that it brings. We went island hopping, danced in the boat, swam on open waters, ate our hearts out, moved from one accommodation to another, and I tried surfing for the first time! I never thought I would enjoy the experience because it was raining lightly at that time and the waves were so big it could easily engulf me, but man, best day ever!!!! I fell on the surfing board and slammed my body on the rushing waves several times but being able to stand on the surfboard for the first time was such a liberating experience. A little bit of a stretch, but it was and I will try it again once I go back to Siargao.

☾

I flew back to Cebu and then to Manila to catch one of my friend’s wedding and luckily I made it with no delay. Looking at the pictures that I got to develop from a Fuji film camera that I brought with me on the island, I am reminded again of the incredible healing power of what it’s like to try new things, be with nature, and just breathe. Knowing that the year is about to end in a couple of weeks, I felt so blessed to have that opportunity to break the complicated rhythm of corporate life and to disconnect for a moment.

After 3 weeks, I get to fly back to Boracay to celebrate New Year’s Eve. So many epic moments that I am also grateful for which I may save for the future but nevertheless, my last month of 2023 was such a banger and I hope it always feels that way.

By the way, I’m writing all these on my iPhone because I’m too tired to get up and open my MacBook, so I appreciate you for hanging with me this far. So that’s it for 2023!

Simply put, I just want to say Happy Holidays to you and your loved ones, and may 2024 be as effervescent as your hopes and dreams for the future.

(December, 2023)

(Photos were shot using Fujifilm Simpleace 35 mm camera + iPhone 15 Pro Max)

FOLLOW ME: Instagram/TikTok/Twitter: joshleyson

(Music by Grammy nominee, Victoria Monét. All rights belong to her and her publishers. For personal and non-commercial use only. Stream her great catalogue on Spotify and Apple Music.)

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transgamerthoughts · 2 months

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Abandon All Delusions Of Control

this is another cross-post. which is funny because I've paid for a domain name redirect to my tumblr since like 2016.. i never know what site is gonna explode these days. less people follow me here than anywhere but this write ups been passed around so...

I've been playing Dragon's Dogma 2 and while I'd love to talk about gameplay or interesting moments, the game's found itself something of a cultural lightning rod. It is a game with many friction points arising in a cultural moment where gamers are, perhaps more than ever, convinced that "consumers" are kings.

Dragon's Dogma 2 is not readily "solvable" and you can't min-max it. You will make mistakes. You will be scraped and bruised and scarred. Pain is sometimes the only bridge that can take us wher ewe need to go. And gaming culture, fed the lie of mastery and player importance, does not understand that scars can be beautiful. I love this game. I think it's a miracle it came out at all.

I also think in spite of the success it's found… that 2024 might be the worst possible year for it to have released.

Let's ramble about it..

It's easy to feel like Hideaki Itsuno and his team miscalculated the amount of friction that players are willing to endure and while I don't think that's true (he didn't miscalculate moreso stick to his particular vision) it certainly appears that we've reached a point in gaming where players, glutted on convenience, don't really know what to do when robbed of it. I've heard folks complain that they can't sprint everywhere or else balk learning that ferrystones required for fast travel cost 10,000 gold as if these shatter DD2 into pieces. I'm vaguely sympathetic to these concerns but at the same time they seem to spring entirely from a lack of understanding of the game's design goals. Much like how folks demanding a traditionally structured RPG narrative from an Octopath game misunderstand what that team is trying to do, players asking to sprint through the world or teleport with ease fundamentally misunderstand what Dragon's Dogma wants. The world is not a wrapper for a story. It is the story. Dragon's Dogma is a story factory whose various textures create unprecedented triumphs and memorable failure.

It is crucial to the experience to allow both of those to occur and live with whatever follows.

I'm always cautious of talking like this because it can come off as smug or superior but I think ultimately that's the truth of the matter here. This was not a well-played franchise before now and even if it's a AAA title, there's a way in which this game is meant to elide most AAA open world trends. You are expected to traverse. If you want relatively cheap and faster travel, you're meant to find an oxcart and pay the (quite modest) fee to move between trade hubs much like you would pay for a silt strider in Morrowind. Even if you do this, you could be ambushed on the road and in the worst case the ox pulling the cart can be killed. Something being "possible" in a game doesn't always mean it is intentional but Dragon's Dogma continually undercuts the player's ability to avoid long treks. Portcrystals, which act as fast travel destinations, are limited and ferry stones (while not prohibitively expensive compared to weapons and armor) are juuust expensive enough that you need to consider if the expense is worthwhile. Once is happenstance. Multiple times is a pattern. And the pattern in Dragon's Dogma is to disincentivize easy travel. It screams of intent.

Something I could not have imagined playing games growing up is the ways in which even a decade (or two) could lead to radically different attitudes on what games should provide. That's an audience issue to an extent but it's also something games have brought upon themselves. The "language" of an open world game has been solidified through years climbable towers, mini-map marked caves, and options to zip around worlds. When a game deviates from that language, the change is more noticeable than ever.

Hell, even Elden Ring (perhaps the closest modern relative to Dragon's Dogma) allows you to warp between bonfires and gives you a steed to ride. But that's also a much larger game! DD2 is not a large game and the story is not long. Yes, you can spend untold hours wandering about into nooks and crannies but a trek from one end of the world to another is still significantly shorter than bounding through most open worlds and a run through the critical path reveals a speedy game. Not as speedy as the first but brisk by genre standards.

exploration is the glue that binds the combat and progression system in place. Upgrading armor and weapons requires seeking out specific materials and fighting certain monsters. Gathering the funds for big purchases in shops mostly comes from selling your excess monster parts. The entire game hinges on the idea of long expeditions where you accrue materials and supplies on the road and then invest that horde one way or another once you return to town. It's not simply a matter of mood and tone for you to trek throughout the world without ease. The gameplay loop is built around it.

There's another complicating factor that I'm less interested in diving into and it's the presence of certain microtransactions at launch. Principally I'm against MTX in single players games, particularly conveniences of which most of DD2's microtransactions are. But I also think there's been a fundamental misunderstanding of what many of these are. Among the biggest things I've heard (repeatedly!) is that you can pay real life money for fast travel but that's not true. You can buy a single portcrystal offering you one more potential location to warp to. It's a one-time purchase and the only travel convenience offered. This has transformed, partly because of people's lack of familiarity with Dragon's Dogma's mechanics, into a claim that you can pay over and over to teleport around. I think that assumption reveals more about the general audience than anything else.

I think it is worth entertaining a question: does the existence of this extra port crystal signify a compromising of the game's goals regarding travel? That's not a discussion that folks seem to be interested in having—instead opting for more emotional and reactionary panicking—but it is the most interesting question. On face the answer is yes and that raises the follow up question of whether or not the developers had knowledge this convenience (though one-off) would be offered to players. If so, did that knowledge affect how they designed the game? Even slightly? It seems rather clear to me that these purchases are a publisher decision; there's nothing in the game's design that suggest the dev team wants players to have access to an extra portcrystal. As we've established it's quite the opposite!

They want you to haul your fucking ass around and get jumped by goblins, buddy.

Which is many words to say that as much as I care about microtransactions from a consumer standpoint, the way in which they undermine Dragon's Dogma 2's goals is a fair reminder of the ways in which they hurt developers. Ultimately, I do think that these purchases are ignorable and in that sense (combined with the misinformation surrounding them) I'm a little burned by the consumer-minded discussion. Doubly so because of the way it feels, at least in part, tied into a certain kind of rhetoric that's been on the rise lately. Instead, I find myself drawn to the question of the damage they do the devs and if more onerous plans actually would force their hands into undercutting portions of their own designs. The shift of many series into live-service chasing suggest so but even as I entertain these thoughts I don't get the sense that Itsuno and his team were forced to reshape their game world to encourage these microtransactions. The world is as they want.

If it wasn't, they wouldn't make it so failing to act quickly in a quest to find a missing kid stolen by wolves could end with you being too late. They wouldn't make it so buying goods from an Elven shop without an interpreter was a hassle. It's present in Every Damn Thing!

More interesting to consider is why this particular game became such a lightning rod of passion when I'm going to assume that most people caught up in the discussion have no particular fealty to the series. The answer is a combination of factors but there's something about the genre that ignites the panic we're seeing as much as the culture moment we're in. When people try to explain that these MTX purchases are not needed, it's confused for approval of their inclusion but that's not something we need to grant. I don't think anyone wants these things here and when they say "you don't need them" they are referring to the more complex thought that the game is better played without them. But this is not heard because the idea that you'd want to opt into friction and discomfort is not something that the general audience is likely to understand. They're wired against it. They crave ease.

not everyone, mind you. DD2's enjoyed a lot of excited reactions (there's tons of folks who like this game as it is and are happily playing it) but it has faced plenty of folks railing against "bad" design choices but the fact remains that those "bad" choices were intentional.

I'm writing about this stuff instead of, say, the wild journey I took solving one of the Sphinx's riddles because the immediately interesting thing about Dragon's Dogma 2 has been what it's become as a cultural object. It is a game suffering from success. Never designed for a general audience or modern standards but thrust into their hands due to Capcom's ongoing renaissance. Dragon's Dogma is a fine game whose cult status is well earned but the reason DD2 garnered this attention (and therefore becomes a hot-topic game) has as much to do with Capcom's ongoing success rate as anything else. In some ways, it actually IS a good time to release a game like Dragon's Dogma 2. There's certainly a curiousity in place. Partly borne of goodwill and also from folks' genuine desire to try something new.

and yet, we're in a odd moment in games. consumer rights lanaguge, having been fundamentally misunderstood and reconfigured by gamers as a rhetoric for justifying their purchase habits (I'm paying the money! why can't the game do exactly as I demand!?) has stifled many people's ability to have imaginative interpretations of gameplay mechanics. they don't ask "what is this thing doing as a storytelling device" (which mechanics are!) and rather default to "what is this thing doing to me and my FUN and my TIME". which are not bad questions but they also misunderstand the possibility space games have to offer. While we can attribute some of the objections that has arisen to players' thoughts about genre itself and the way in which Dragon's Dogma positions friction as a key gameplay pillar, the fact of the matter is that we would not be having such spirited discussion about these things in, say, 2017. not that things were great back then, but I think the audience is worse now in many, many ways. sarcastically? I blame Game Design YouTube.

Even if there were no microtransactions, we'd still be having a degree of Discourse thanks to a key game mechanic: Dragonplague. It is a disease that can afflict your Pawn companions which initially causes them to get mouthy and start to disobey orders. If you notice these signs (alongside ominous glowing eyes) then your Pawn has been infected and you're expected to dismiss them back to the Rift where that infection can spread to another player. The game gives a pop up to the player explaining this the first time they encounter the disease. However, some players have ignored that warning and found a dire consequence: an untreated Pawn can, when the player rests at an inn, go on an overnight rampage that kills the majority of NPCs in whatever settlement they are in. This includes plot-important characters. The reaction's been intense. Reddit always sucks but man… just look…

I understand some of the ire. It's a drastic shift from your pawn being a bit ornery to instantly killing an entire city. On the other hand, the game does warn of potentially dire consequences if a Pawn's sickness is ignored. Players have simply underestimated the scale of that consequence. Surely no major RPG would mass murder important characters and break questlines! We're in post Oblivion/Skyrim world. Important NPCs are essential and cannot be killed, right? Well, wrong and this is another way in which Dragon's Dogma chases after the legacy of a game like Morrowind more than than it adapts current open world trends. This is a world where things can break and the developers have decided that they are okay with it breaking in a very drastic way. It's hard to think of anything comparable in a contemporary game. We don't really do this kind of thing anymore.

The result has been panic and a spread of information both helpful and hopelessly speculative. Is your game ruined? Well, maybe. There is an item you can find which allows for mass resurrection but that's gonna require some questing. But some players also say that you can wait a while and the game will eventually reset back to the pre-murder status quo. What's true? Hard to know. Dragon's Dogma doesn't show all of its cards and won't always explain itself. We know entire cities can be killed. We know that individual characters can be revived in the city morgue or else the settlement restored (mostly) with a special item. Dragonplague is detectable and the worst case scenario is, to some extent or another, something that the player can ameliorate. Those are facts but they don't really matter.

That's because players issue (panick? hysteria?) with dragonplague is as much to do with what it represents as what it does. Players are used to the notion of game worlds being spaces where they get to determine every state of affair. They are, as I've suggested before, eager to play the tyrant. Eager to enact whatever violences or charities that might strike their fancy. They do this with the expectation that they will be rewarded for the latter but face no consequences for the former. Dragonplague argues otherwise. No, it says, this world is also one that belongs to the developers and they are more than fine with heaping dire consequences on players. Before the dragonplague's consequences were known, players were running around the world killing NPCs in cities because it would stabilize the framerate. They're fine with mass murder on their own terms. they love it!

This is made more clear when we look at how Dragon's Dogma handles saving the game. While there are autosaves between battles, players are expected to rest at inns to save their game. This costs some gold, which is a hassle, but the bigger "issue" is that they only have one save slot. Which means that save scumming is not entirely feasible though not impossible with a bit of planning. What it does mean, however, is that the game is saved when a dragonplague attack happens. you have to rest at an inn for this to trigger. which saves the game. They cannot roll back the clock. The tragedy becomes a fact. It's not the only time Dragon's Dogma does this. For instance, players can come into possession of a special arrow that can slay anything. When used, the game saves. Much like how players are given a warning about dragonplague, they're warned before using this arrow: don't miss.

If you do? that's a real shame. The depth of this consequence is uncommon in today's gaming landscape. Games are mostly frivolous and save data is the amber from which players suck crystallized potentialities. Don't like what happened? No worries. Slide into your files and find the frozen world which suits your proclivities. You are God. In Dragon's Dogma, you are not god. The threads of prophecy can be severed and you must persist in the doomed world that's been created. The mere suggestion is an affront. The fact that Dragon's Dogma has the stones to commit to the bit in 2024 is essentially a miracle.

It's easy to boil everything I'm saying down to "Dragon's Dogma is not afraid to be rude to the player" but that doesn't capture the spirit of the design. It invites players to go on a hike. It makes no attempt to hide that the hike is difficult. But that's the extent of it. It offers little guidance on the path, doesn't check if you're a skilled enough hiker. Your decision to go on the hike is taken as proof of your acceptance of the fact that you might fall down.

This is not unique to Dragon's Dogma. In fact, this is part of the appeal (philosophically) of a game like Elden Ring. The difference being that even FromSofts much-lauded gamer gauntlets (excepting perhaps Sekiro, conincidentally their best work) offer more ways to adjust and fix the world state to the player's liking. Even the darling of difficulty will offering you a hand when you fall. Dragon's Dogma is not so eager to do so. In a decade where convenience is king for video games, that represents both a keen understanding of its lineages and a shocking affront to accepted norms and expectations.

The core of Dragon's Dogma, the very defining characteristics that earned it cult status, are the same things that have caused these modern tensions. It is both a franchise utterly consistent in its design priorities and entirely out of touch with the modern audience. Dragon's Dogma 2 has come into prominence during a time where imaginative interpretation of mechanics is at an all time low and calls for "consumer" gratification are taken as truisms. It is a game entirely at odds with the YouTube ecosystem and the very things that give it allure are the tools that have turned it into a debated object.

This flashpoint of discussion is proof of Dragon Dogma 2's design potency. It's also a sign of the damage that modern design trends have done to games as whole and the ongoing fallout that's come from gamers learning design concepts without really understanding what designing a game entails. And, uh… I dunno respond to that or how to end this. That's both very cool but it also bums me out. Dragon's Dogma 2 is a remarkably confident game but games are long beyond the point of admiring a thing for being honest.

#dragon's dogma 2 #games criticism

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talonabraxas · 1 month

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Sun in Aries II – (30 March – 9 April 2024)

The Sun enters Aries II The Crown on March 30 at 1:25 am EDT. The Crown contains the degree of exaltation of the Sun; Austin Coppock certainly noted this association when he gave this decan this name, and T. Susan Chang called it Kingdom of Gold when comparing it with Tarot’s three of wands — the man staking his claim to the high ground as he watches ships travel on a sun-touched sea toward the destinations he commanded. The descending Chaldean order gives this decan to the Sun to administer under Mars’ overall dominion — and there’s indeed something golden about the weather of early April, at least where I live, as the trees of New England burst into leaf and the understory of bushes and wild perennials erupts again.

The Chaldean order gives this decan to the Sun, appropriately enough. The astrological year begins and ends under the administration of Mars, cutting away the last deck lines of Pisces and hoisting the sails for a favorable breeze at the start of Aries — but the middle ten degrees of Aries belong to the Sun. While it starts a little early this year, on March 30 instead of the 31st or even April 1 — it’s still usually the season when the spring’s promise starts to make itself felt in quotidian experience: the sun on the arms in short sleeves, the sudden redness of your cheeks after a day in the garden, the signs of greenery in the woods. This is the young Sun, coming into his power, at least in my neck of the woods. No less than Geoffrey Chaucer cited this in the first few lines of the Canterbury Tales,

Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote, The droghte of March hath perced to the roote, […] and the yonge sonne Hath in the Ram his halfe cours y-ronne, And smale foweles maken melodye, That slepen al the nyght with open ye, So priketh hem Natúre in hir corages, Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages… --Canterbury Tales, General Prologue

That bolded line, the “yonge sonne Hath in the Ram his halfe cours y-ronne” means “when the sun is at the half-way mark of Aries,” five days from now. If you feel an urge to get up and go to Canterbury — whether England, New Hampshire, Connecticut or elsewhere — you’ll know that it’s in part an honest reaction to the arrival of April’s sweet showers, and the end of March’s dryness. The green ones are returning. --Wanderings in the Labyrinth

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blueiskewl · 4 months

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Pantone’s Color of the Year for 2024 'Peach Fuzz'

The gentle, pinkish-orange hue was chosen to reflect a collective desire for respite

A soft, pinkish-orange hue called “Peach Fuzz” is Pantone’s pick for the 2024 color of the year, the company announced last week.

Officially called “Pantone 13-1023 Peach Fuzz,” the color is “velvety,” “gentle” and “subtly sensual,” according to the design and color authority.

Pantone is best known for its color-matching system, created in the 1960s, that numbers and organizes hues with a distinct chip format. The company also runs the Pantone Color Institute, which selects the color of the year and conducts color trend forecasting research.

This year’s choice “echoes our innate yearning for closeness and connection,” says Leatrice Eiseman, executive director of the Pantone Color Institute, in a statement.

“We chose a color radiant with warmth and modern elegance,” she adds. “A shade that resonates with compassion, offers a tactile embrace and effortlessly bridges the youthful with the timeless.”

Peach Fuzz is Pantone’s 25th color of the year. The annual announcements began in 1999 to “engage the design community and color enthusiasts around the world in a conversation around color,” per a statement from Laurie Pressman, the Pantone Color Institute’s vice president.

Every year, a team of color experts examines movies, art, fashion, design, travel destinations, technologies and more to figure out which colors are influencing the world in the current moment. They also use forecasting tools, color psychology research and other sources to predict upcoming trends. From all that research, they narrow down the options to just one color that they feel sets the tone for the year ahead.

Peach Fuzz is less bold than last year’s choice, a bright, pink-red shade called “Viva Magenta.” But the world felt different in 2023, when Pantone “celebrated coming out of the malaise of the last year,” as Eiseman tells CNN’s Leah Dolan. Viva Magenta was intended to evoke verve, power and grace as the world emerged from the pandemic and continued to grapple with social unrest, as NPR’s Rachel Treisman wrote last year.

Heading into 2024, however, Peach Fuzz “arrives at a dark time amid a tumultuous war and a tense election year,” as Angelica Villa writes for ARTnews. The more muted hue is meant to reflect the “need for some quiet, some peace, some respite,” Eiseman tells CNN.

Where will Peach Fuzz show up in 2024? Rugs, wallpaper, fabric, makeup, tea and more—which are all examples of products released in conjunction with Pantone’s announcement. The color is already showing up in fashion, with celebrities like Taylor Swift and the Rock wearing Peach Fuzz to various events, notes USA Today’s Emily DeLetter.

“It feels like another rediscovered neutral that’s meant to seep its way into every surface of our lives,” said Jeremy Allen, the art director for the New York Times Styles Desk, in a conversation with colleagues.

By Sarah Kuta.

#Peach Fuzz #Pantone 13-1023 Peach Fuzz #Pantone’s Color of the Year for 2024 'Peach Fuzz'#Pantone’s 25th color of the year #Pantone Color Institute #color #colorful #style #design #art #artist #art work #art world #art news #pink #pretty in pink

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pix4japan · 3 months

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Chasing Early Bloom: Kawazu-Zakura Festival 2024

Location: Kawazu River, Kawazu, Shizuoka, Japan Timestamps: 08:18, 08:20, and 08:40 on February 14, 2024

Pentax K-1 II + DFA 28-105mm F3.5-5.6 + CP ① 68 mm ISO 100 for 1/100 sec. at ƒ/10 ② 28 mm ISO 100 for 1/160 sec. at ƒ/9.0 ③ 31 mm ISO 100 for 1/200 sec. at ƒ/7.1

My first visit to the Kawazu-Zakura Cherry Blossom Festival was on March 2, 2022, two days after the festival had officially ended. This year, I timed my visit to the festival to coincide with a photo shoot at Imaihama Beach, which is just a 10-minute from the Kawazu River where the cherry trees are situated.

While the annual cherry blossom festival officially extends until February 29th, locals I spoke with anticipated tourists continuing to visit as late as the first week of March.

Here are three of my favorite shots along the Kawazu River:

① The first shot was taken on the eastern end of Kinomiya Bridge (来宮橋), crossing Kawazu River, about an 18-minute walk from Kawazu Station. Looking north, a glimpse of the vermilion-colored Hosen Bridge (豊泉橋) adds to the scenic view.

② The second shot was taken a few meters north of Kinomiya Bridge on the eastern riverbank. This spot provided ample foliage and shadows to almost hide the buildings and man-made structures behind the cherry trees, creating a nice contrast with the dark Kawazu-zakura pinks against the evergreen hills in the background.

③ The third shot was captured from the middle of the riverbed, right across from the tourist information booth on the northern riverbank, a 26-minute walk from Kawazu Station.

For those planning to visit the festival by train, I have included a link to Donny Kimball’s “Come to Kawazu | Enjoy Japan’s Cherry Blossoms in February” blog post, where he recommends the best way to reach the festival by train.

If, like me, you travel with a border collie, driving is the only option. From central Tokyo, it's a 2-hour 30-minute to 3-hour drive (depending on traffic). Kawazu Town is only 185 km southwest of central Tokyo, so even if you avoid the expressways, you can still reach this destination in less than 4 hours if you leave early enough in the morning.

For photographers attending this festival, try to schedule your visit on a weekday early in the morning. With very few crowds, it becomes easy to set up a tripod to bracket your shots, take long exposures of the river, or capture some panoramas.

If you have time, I'd recommend taking a leisurely drive home via Route 135, running the entire length of the eastern coastline of the Izu Peninsula. Roll down the windows, let the sea breeze enter the cabin, and be sure to stop at any of the numerous roadside rest stops that often offer spectacular views of the coastline.

I've gone into greater details on how to access the festival by car and have gathered with great info, downloadable PDF maps, and have Google Maps links to 3 of the larger parking lots. The write-up is less than a 3-minute read (https://www.pix4japan.com/blog/20240214-kawazu-zakura).

#風景写真 #伊豆半島 #河津町 #河津桜 #pix4japan #pentax_dfa28105 #pentaxk1mkii #landscape photography #Japan #Shizuoka Prefecture #Kawazu Town #Kawazu cherry blossoms

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retrowave-racer · 9 days

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Coaster Maynia 2024 Day 6 - VALKYRIA

“Vanya Ria always knew she was destined to protect others. She was born and raised on an alien planet where humanoid aliens with wings resided, her kind being a Nobel and just people. One of the duties she felt herself drawn to was traveling the galaxies to defend other alien races against cold and heartless tyrants. One of the planets she found herself often on was Galazona, where her troops commander found himself very found of. She learned a lot from Galazona’s, one thing being to look in at her own feelings and emotions, that had been for many years locked behind a wall she created to protect herself from the terrible things she may have had to endure in her journey to justice. It is a bit sad, as the kind hero still values other lives more than her own…and would be willing to give her life to even those she knows wouldn’t even glance in her direction. Hopefully the in future she will take the Galazonians teachings fully to heart…”

Day 6! I’ve had this one done for awhile but needed to muster up the energy to come up with some lore and post! I keep getting so excited to show you guys each day, I’ve spent a lot of time on these designs and I’m really proud of what I’ve been able to do!

#original character #oc #character design #coastermaynia #coaster maynia #coaster Maynia 2024 #personified rollercoasters #liseburg #valkyria

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noxtms · 9 days

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IN CHARACTER DATE : early evening, may 2nd, 2024. TRIGGER WARNINGS : mention of blood. CREDIT : to ziggy ( @hoggleswart ) !

There isn't a single thing that he wouldn't do for Molly if she asked, and that includes making the unwise trek into London after the weather warning has already been issued. She should really be here by now, she'd told him, her lips pressed into a worried line, And I'd like for us all to be together in one place. He agreed, there. It was best if the whole family settled in together to support each other through the already difficult day and ride out the unexpected storm, and Arthur had wasted no time after his wife had helped him button back up his coat and wrapped a well-worn, handknitted scarf around his neck with loving hands. He has to apparate in at a designated point but the walk to Ginny's block from there never takes him long. It's usually a more pleasant stroll, one he can travel with his hands joined behind his back and a jolly tune whistled, but the wind whips at his coat collar and the rain falls heavy on his head. The bitterness of the evening bites at his hands and Arthur rubs his palms together before lifting them to his mouth, breathing hot air on them. Steps speed up then, just a hint. Molly would murder him if he came back with a cold, too.

It’s only as he gets closer to his destination, stomach rumbling with the hope of still making the feast with his daughter that instincts really start to prickle. The storm gets worse with each step and the chill starts to feel almost sinister, brows drawing together in unease. Something is wrong. A voice in his head urges him to look up and horror strikes when he does. The Dark Mark lingers in troubled skies, bright and menacing, and hovering over a building that’s all too familiar.

“GINEVRA…”

He’ll be ashamed to admit later that for a moment, body freezes in hesitation. It’s only a brief pause, barely half a minute, though it seems to last forever. It’s as if time stops with him. All he can do is stare, naively hoping the sight before him might dissipate. He clings to the false hope this is no more than a nightmare; a scene some boggart has conjured before him, bringing to life a nightmare he’s sure he’s seen before. This can’t be real. This can’t be happening.

But it is.

Reality hits hard and in an instant, the man is racing forward, tearing up the stairs of the apartment block. “Ginevra!” It’s more a roar than a shout. A desperate yell that’s begging for a reply that doesn’t come, and the scene only gets worse as he gets closer, reaching her front door. Feet stop moving when the firm hand of an Auror settles on Arthur’s chest. They push him back with a quiet “sir, please, you can’t go in there”. Had he been in the right frame of mind, he might’ve apologised. He might’ve explained the situation better. There isn’t time for that now though and instead, their arm is shoved away like the touch burns, long strides still trying to take him towards Ginny's front door. “That’s my girl in there!” His protests are uncharacteristically loud for a man normally so soft-spoken. He swiftly steps around another approaching Auror, hands all but ripping the crime scene tape that’s attempting to block his entrance away. It isn’t in his nature to be rude or aggressive, but can anyone really hold the fear of a loving parent against someone?

The inside is no better than the outside. There’s no reassurance to be found in overturned furniture, a broken lamp and “Merlin,” he breathes out shakily, erratic movements finally stilling because “is that blood?” Horrified question isn’t directed at anyone in particular. Perhaps because a part of him does not wish to hear the answer. Heart thuds heavily against chest, blood pumping so loud that head throbs, an overwhelming panic threatening to come over him. Arthur finds himself almost thankful for the palm that comes down on his shoulder from behind. It grounds him, snapping him back to action and when he turns, he’s greeted by a familiar face. “Arturo, where is she? Where is my daughter?”

“Mr Weasley…” Arturo’s somber expression momentarily has Arthur wanting to cover his ears, too afraid of what he might hear. It was strange how the body reacted to shocks. He ignores the urge, swallowing hard at the lump forming in throat.

“Please.” He pushes for a faster response and when he gets it, he doesn’t know whether to be relieved … or terrified.

“Nobody’s here.”

#nox.plotdrop018 #nox.important #hp rp #harry potter rp #appless rp #fandom rp #canon rp #oc rp #mumu rp

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caseydundrich · 12 days

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is that ELLIOT FLETCHER? oh, no, that’s CASEY DUNDRICH, a TWENTY-SEVEN year old CHILDREN'S NOVELIST who uses HE/HIM pronouns. they currently live in QUILPUE, and the character they identify with most is WILL BYERS FROM STRANGER THINGS. hopefully they find their own little paradise here in el país de los poetas! (MAD, 27, THEY/THEM, PST)

Name: Casey Dundrich Nickname: Case Age: 27 Faceclaim: Elliot Fletcher Height: 5'7 Build: Slim Sexual Orientation: Homosexual Relationship Status: Single Education Level: College graduate with a degree in creative writing Occupation: Children's Novelist/Illustrator Vices: Alcohol, Cannabis, Gum Favorite Color: Blue & Green Favorite Halloween Candy: Kitkats

Quick Facts

Growing up an only child who didn't make friends easily, Casey quickly became drawn to the written word. An avid reader at a very young age it didn't take long for Casey to soon become interested in writing and jotting down the stories that his overactive imagination came up with. From the start Casey was destined to be a writer. He entered many young authors competitions and while he never won his second place and third place finishes were enough to continue fueling his passion. Along with writing Casey spent a lot of time drawing using that as a medium to get his ideas across when words failed him.

Casey went to college in New York for creative writing where he was absolutely ripped to shreds by his professors. There was always a child-like quality to his writing that was frowned upon by the courses he took. Distraught by the criticism Casey almost gave up on his dream but still finished out his degree even though it wound up with him taking his extensive knowledge of literature and working in a bookstore in NYC.

At the age of twenty-five Casey finally got the idea for a story about two brothers with a magical stone that transports them to distant lands (think of something along the lines of The Magic Tree House series). He pitched the story to some publishers and it became an instant hit amongst young readers which earned Casey a multi book deal.

Eventually Casey got fed up with the hustle and bustle of New York City. He knew he didn't want to return to Milwaukee where he grew up so he found himself in need of a new home. He always had a desire to travel and now that his book series is taking off he's no longer tied to any location to work. Casey decided on Chile for now but it's like they won't stay in the country for long. Right now they just project living there while he works on his current book.

He is currently working on the third book in the series and has hit a major bout of writer's block. He still has more to say in regards to the series he just doesn't have the words for it and deadlines are swiftly approaching.

When he isn't reading, writing, or drawing Casey is usually playing video games. He's a big fan of RPGs and fantasy games and still is an avid World of Warcraft player in 2024 (you should really see his mount collection).

Casey has never been in a serious relationship (though he desperately wants to be in one). He's had a few flings over the years but people tended to disappoint him or not be interested in taking things to the next level.

He's much more of an introvert than an extrovert. Making friends has never come easy to him but he's tried to put himself out there more after moving to Chile.

Casey is a DM for D&D and has been looking to start up a new campaign since moving to Chile. He goes quite over the top with his storytelling and hangs around the local game shop in search of new players (potential wanted connection!).

WANTED CONNECTIONS

Friends

Crush

Fellow coffee shop regulars

Love interest

D&D campaign members

Gaming friends

#valpohqintro

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alyjojo · 13 days

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May 🏋🏻 2024 Monthly - Libra

Preshuffle: You’re financially abundant and independent, ready to take on some goal you have in mind - could be related to travel, maybe for work. I get it’s really boring though, and not what you’re expecting. You’ll be irritated with the slowness of everything.

Meditation: You were in a ‘70s looking house (lots of yellow & orange), chatting away on a cord phone attached to a wall, with a big container of salt 🧂 that you were pouring down the kitchen sink with boiling water…oddly specific, apparently the salt is a thing - says Google. After that, you started talking about all of the bad VIBES and how you just wanted them to go away, and you salted your doors and windows before taking a handful and throwing it in the air to salt yourself too. Bad vibes be gone 💯 #saltbae

Main energy: Ace of Wands

Beautiful energy, kinda witchy even, with the meditation & Walrus talking about signs & omens. You’re in the middle of creating a whole new reality for yourself, with more passion, emotion, stability, clarity, you have all 4 Aces showing up - Pentacles being under The Magician at the bottom - who has all four Aces in his hand. You’re a magic maker this month. Your oracles again nod towards a trip, travel, getting to your destination, something about renting a car. Could be buying one too. You’re excited by this new possibility or purchase, Page of Pentacles clarifies as a contract, documents, a plan set in motion. I’m not sure how open you are about it yet, it looks like you’re waiting until the decision is made to actually speak up. Some of you could be finding romance with someone you’ve considered a friend, coworker, someone at school if you’re in school, it’s been casual & platonic.

What’s going on in May:

Ace of Cups:

You could be somewhat recently out of a past romantic connection and ready for the new, or there’s the potential for new showing up. The Magician at the bottom again could show you’re the one seeking something new. If not love, then something you do love, could be travel, a hobby, a new thing you’re studying, a new friend even - something that fills your heart with joy and love on some level. You’ve felt held back from being able to create this for yourself, either due to a lack of money, debt, or some leftover ick feelings from a past relationship. Not feeling worthy, abandonment issues, having to process the last thing that’s over with now. If you aren’t there yet, this reading shows you’re close, and that you can create whatever reality you desire for yourself.

Knight of Swords rev:

Your new person could live at a distance, this is someone you already love. Ace of Cups, 2 Cups, you’re smitten with this person. You may not know how to move this forward, Temperance shows a need for patience that you probably don’t have but also don’t have a choice. SEX is heavy on the brain, you’re obsessed with this person, seeing them as Queen of Wands with The Devil on the bottom. Could even be mutual with 2 Cups here, an equal obsession between two people that can’t keep their hands to themselves 😍 This goal or travel would be to see them. There may not be much communication about this, it’s just known, or your guards are up emotionally…maybe both of you.

Justice:

Ah, you’ve missed your opportunity before, that’s why you’re so OBSESSED with making things happen this time. Probably because of money, that seems to be the main reason coming out for you. Could just be a vacation you’re taking. This time though, things 👏 are 👏 happening! The decisions have been made, contracts or reservations are scheduled, I don’t think anything could stop you this time. You feel like this is something you’re meant to do, it lights a fire under your butt with Page of Wands, in a way most things can’t. It’s like feeling alive again 🔥

Page of Wands:

There’s a lot of communication between you and someone, maybe everyone, once a decision has been made. 9 Pentacles at the bottom, Justice is here, it could be a divorce going through - if so it’s taken awhile and has cost a lot of money. You could be free to be with the person you clearly already love. The distance could be literal for someone, but in this case it’s more of an emotional/legal wedge between you, being unable to be truly *theirs* or vice versa, someone has been otherwise engaged, legally. Through whatever blocks or missed opportunities, you’ve felt conflicted about how long something is taking, whether it was really going to end the way you hoped/thought it would, kinda waiting for the other shoe to drop. You could be apprehensive about this person being “single” now, or switch that, because…well marriage can be like being in chains ⛓️ when you don’t want to be in it. It’s not likely or common for someone to be free of the shackles and jump right back in ya know, that’s almost silly. Unless you’re famous or something, then it’s just a normal Wednesday.

Ace of Swords:

A conversation is due, I see a lot of that going on this month. Passionate, planning, honest, revealing or enlightening even - transparent communication. Truth. Saying the thing that needs to be said, that maybe you’ve avoided for some time while other things were going on. Something has blocked you before, money, other people, legalities and contracts, but I’m seeing the green light 🚦 for you now, and…depending on who is who, there’s no rush. There’s a *desire* for rushing, but the energy is more about a sigh of relief. Whew, finally. Knight of Cups clarifies with 10 Wands, this is romantic action being a burden. It’s felt, there’s genuine love, reciprocated even. But there’s pressure to go from 0 to 100 and someone here is like no…not a chance. But it’s not personal. Still, holding every Ace is powerful energy, you can go ahead and quietly celebrate your wins while also maintaining a level head and doing what’s best for you (or them). I’m not sure if sex is actually on the table, that may be disappointing. Could be, someone is obsessing over it, and has been. On the other hand, if it’s pressured then it’s coming off as a red flag 🚩 This could be like a friends with benefits thing and there’s finally a chance to shoot your shot, or switch it. Do you have a reservation for a person? 😆 There’s no rush, maybe inform them of that too. Otherwise, all your goals are a go 👍

Signs you may be dealing with:

Sagittarius, Cancer, Aries, Virgo & Leo

Oracle: ✨

Goal 📈

Purpose - Expectation - Destination

Reservation 🚘

Desire - Worth - Extravagance

Walrus 🦭

“Remain vigilant about the current situation; pay attention to signs and omens, and let them dictate your choices.”

Signs and omens show up in myriad ways, from the wind’s rustle of the trees that make it seem as if they’re whispering to you at a barely audible level, to the rainbow that appears just before an event in which you’re participating. When you’re pondering any kind of question about your life purpose, relationships, career, or even everyday concerns such as whether to actually take the vacation that you’d been planning, you can ask Spirit to give you clear and specific signs. Then watch, listen, feel, and allow thoughts to flow. While you may not always get absolutely clear responses, more often than not you’ll pick up on signs or flies through your eyes, ears, sensations in your body, or thoughts that seem to come out of the blue. You may even have remarkably lucid dreams that you can easily recall in the morning.

Look for the unusual and repetitious. For example, if you hear someone at the supermarket talking about Phoenix (auditory); spot a billboard advertisement with the word Phoenix prominently displayed (visual); and then recall a period of time when you lived in that city, feeling a calmness and joy (sensations) when you bring up that memory (cognitive), these are all clues. It could be about the city of Phoenix, Arizona. Or it could be a subtle way that the spirit guide is offering you their help when you’re ending one cycle completely and beginning another, like the metaphor of the Phoenix rising from the ashes. Omens are perceived in the four ways mentioned. Journal about anything you find significant, and look for repetition. When you see an animal showing up repeatedly, Spirit is with you. Trust the signs and your discernment of them, they’re a personal and significant way Spirit helps guide you along your path. Your Spirit knows how to get *your* attention 🙏

We enter into May as:

Shrinking Violet 😥

“I don’t trust my intuition.”

Are you retreating from a situation that could bring you success? We all abandon projects that seemingly lack merit. However, Shrinking Violet indicates you may not be trusting your intuition, which is mostly likely on target. Choose three people to ask advice from, then take their advice, throw it out the window and go with your gut. There is every indication you should complete the task at hand. Block yourself off from thoughts of what will happen at the completion stage. Stay the process, don’t worry about the ending, or results, don’t be frightened. Just continue on.

What is to be learned in May:

Sun Sparkler 🎇:

“Integrity is what turns on the light.”

Sun Sparkler reminds us that it is through kindness to others and being of service that we are abundant. Are you living your life as fully as you can? Are you being honest and kind to others? Do you hold the door open for people on the elevator, or let it close? Do you let people merge over in traffic, or pretend not to see them? When we put a blinder on one area of life, it creates the same blind spot in every area. You can’t shut out pain without shutting out pleasure too. Sun Sparkler reminds you of the miracle of honesty, it leads to integrity. You may have done work for another but do not expect a reward, revel in alignment with Spirit, self-esteem is the gift. You’ve been elevated to a new level spiritually, continue to serve others and life will prosper beyond your wildest dreams.

Yellow may be a lucky color 💛

#Libra #may 2024 #monthly tarot reading #astrology #tarot #monthly

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