#if you choose any option actually please elaborate in the notes

[tilapia-goulash]

#if you choose any option actually please elaborate in the notes #i would like to see the nuances of your opinions! #svsss #scum villain's self saving system #should i tag the actual characters listed here? #eh why not #tianlang jun #luo binghe

[moonshine-nightlight]

Nothing's Wrong With Dale - Part Seven and a Half*

It’s been a week, but you’re fairly certain your fiancé accidentally got himself replaced by an eldritch being from the Depths. Deciding  that he’s certainly not worse than your original fiancé, you endeavor to keep the engagement and his new non-human state to yourself. 

However, this might prove harder than you originally thought.

Fantasy, arranged marriage, malemonsterxfemalereader, M/F

*Please note this is a bonus/missing scene

[Part One][Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five] [Part Six] [Part Seven] Part Seven.5 [Part Eight] [Part Nine][Part Ten] [Part Eleven] [Part Twelve]  [Part Thirteen] [Part Fourteen] [Part Fifteen] [Part Sixteen] [Part Seventeen] [Part Eighteen] [Part Nineteen] [Part Twenty] [Part Twenty-One] [Part Twenty-Two] [Part Twenty-Three] [Part Twenty-Four] [Part Twenty-Five] [Part Twenty-Six] [Part Twenty-Seven] [Part Twenty-Eight] [Part Twenty-Nine] [Part Thirty] [Part Thirty-One] [Part Thirty-Two] [Part Thirty-Three] [Part Thirty-Four]

You hold still as the tailoress and her assistants draw their measuring tapes around you. 

After selecting your fabrics, the vendors needed to take down those displays to make way for various accessories and embellishments they also hope will be purchased. Some of the drapers sold those as well, but some independent milliners had also been invited to display their wares. 

While that change was happening, both you and Dale had been whisked off to let the clothing-makers take new measurements, in your case, or updated measurements, in Dale’s. Grandmother went with Dale, saying she needed to ensure they knew that Dale would be recovering from the dip in weight caused by illness and she’d not have them forget take that into account, leaving you to manage on your own.

Your maid helps you out of your current dress, a light green one, and into the undergarments which you expect to be wed in. The chemise is a gift from your sister, with beautiful maroon ribbon throughout it, finer than any other such garment you usually wear. Then came a pair of white stays and your newer underskirts—corded to give your skirt the right amount of fullness for the current fashion trend.

The tailoress is efficient as she takes your measurements, keeping up a steady stream of chatter to her apprentice and letting you know ahead of time how she wanted you to move or if she was going to reposition you herself. 

The curtains around this area make it easy to forget that on the other side of the room, Dale is also in some state of undress, but the thought is never far from your mind for whatever reason. You don't know why such a thought won’t leave your be–they certainly never bothered you before, either with regards to Dale or regarding other students at your school. 

Instead, you try to distract yourself with the fashion plates Grandmother passed to you before she went with Dale. For all you are sure Dale shall choose a very fine suit pattern, the truth is there is less variety to men’s suits these days. He is likely to choose some fine embellishments and you’re sure his waistcoat will have high quality and elaborate embroidery, but the actual cut of the suit is unlikely to be a difficult decision.

Even for your own dress, the primary decision with the fabric chosen is the neckline, sleeves, and waistline. Even your options are not hugely disparate. Despite the tailoress working around you, with your maid’s help, you are able to study each plate and rank your top choices for Dale and Grandmother’s approval with relative ease. Between the efficiency of the tailoring process and the quiet, you are able to recenter yourself from how overwhelmed you had abruptly felt earlier and rejoin the Northridges’ in a more settled mindset.

You spot Dale, who has already finished with his fitting, inspecting some boots. When you join him, you frown in confusion at them–not sure what they have to do with wedding clothing accessories. Dale must read the confusion on your face as he says, “There is a fashion in the capital to have new boots fashioned for a wedding, in addition to the other clothing. Can you not tell these are specifically designed wedding boots?”

You stifle a smile behind a carefully raised hand, now able to tell when Dale is having fun. Beyond the fact that the shelf of boots, while of high quality leather, are indistinguishable from normal boots to your eyes, his eyes twinkle as he smiles down at you. His playful mood is infectious. “Of course, my Lord. How could they be anything but for such a specific and important occasion? Nothing like ordinary, everyday boots at all.”

“Alas, I do believe this will not be a fashion trend my Grandmother will entertain as anything more than an admirable attempt of the cobblers to wring some additional coin from our wallets.” He holds out his arm for you to take. “I must turn away from this display before I grow heartsick over what I cannot have.”

You barely resist the urge to shake your head at his dramatic playacting, but take his free arm without hesitation. “And what shall you distract yourself with instead?”

“Aside from my lovely bride’s presence?” You duck your head, not able to even look at him at such a tease–the original Dale would never say such a thing unless ironically, but it did not seem so with this Dale. But was there another meaning? Why did he express such sentiments? To flatter you? To what end? “Surely there are other decorations here which can catch our interest. Does any table in particular stand out to you?”

You scan the room, noting many milliners have quite different displays. Were they all told to focus on one accessory? Evidently not all, so you head for the table with the greatest variety of accessories. Everything from parasols to lace trimmings to bonnets are arranged for your viewing. You examine a shawl, wondering if, given the weather, one was necessary or if perhaps you should be reviewing the parasols instead. It would not due to be burned from the sun on such an auspicious day.

Dale wanders over to the table next to this one as something catches his attention while you continue to slowly circle the original table. While fashion these days requires many accessories, people varied in what they purchased new for a wedding. Many only polished up what they had or wore their best, the older or richer the noble family, the more was bespoke for the occasion. Northridge was not particularly wealthy, but they were an old house.

The cost for a wedding was also something that varied, often unspoken to those not involved unless one family wanted to show off their wealth or culture. Your parents had been very clear about the finances of your betrothal. You had a larger dowry than was typical for a youngest daughter of little distinction–nominally in the interest of seeing you well settled. Unofficially it was to see you settled quickly, with minimal digging into your past health issues.

Your mother had implied that they would see you dressed well, but no more than what was appropriate. That your dowry was already more than generous. You thought there had been a compliment mixed in with these instructions, when Mother said you were not one for frivolous adornment as it was and so should not find it hard to resist. Mostly having to be judicious with your wedding clothes had seemed like another thing you could not have. She had said if the Northridges’ wished for anything more well-to-do, they could cover the cost or take it from your dowry themselves. 

So you knew precisely how much you had to contribute to your wedding clothing and it was for the dress alone, with perhaps one new accessory. You think through your clothing in your mind, trying to determine what you have that will do and therefore what item you should purchase to cover what you lacked.

“What do you think?” Dale has walked back over to show you some lace cuffs that are very finely worked. They might be the most expensive lace cuffs you’ve seen. Well, aside from your schoolmate’s, heir-apparent to the Jasika duchy, who loved lace above all else, including her considerable allowance. You resist your immediate response regarding how much they must cost and focus on their appearance alone.

“They are exquisite,” you say truthfully as you let him usher you over to the lace table he has been perusing. “They will go well with your suit.”

“I think so as well. Which do you think will go best with your dress?” Dale sets aside his own lace to look over the gauzier style usually attached to the ends of gown sleeves. “How long were you anticipating the sleeves to be?”

You blink. “Pardon? I was not going to. Not on my dress. Truly, I do not need the extra embellishment.”

Dale pouts. “But it is our wedding. If that is not the occasion for embellishment, what is?”

You struggle to find the right words to say that, as your dowry would go directly to Dale at the wedding itself, you did not control how it was spent, with only enough for the dress alone at the moment. The Northridges had acquiesced to that deal with no counters. That had been Grandmother and Grandfather, not Dale–did he not know that you could not afford such adornment?

“With the silk brocade for my fabric, I do not believe I require additional decorations,” you settle on, hoping he will understand.

He does not, frowning. 

“What is that, dear?” Grandmother has rejoined the two of you. “Are you not preferential to lace? It is of the highest quality and locally produced. I had hoped you would consent to wearing a collar mantle of it as well, to match. I have seen that you prefer plainer dress–which speaks well to your modesty and sensibility. However, I should think this was an instance where such restraint was not required.” 

Her words echo Dale’s own from earlier and you find yourself similarly unable to form an intelligent response. “Oh, no-that’s not it at all. I, I simply…” You wring your hands together as you try to find the words. How do one remind someone else they hold one’s pursestrings? 

“Is this about the manner in which your parents divided your dowry?” Grandmother leans in close to say, “That is of no consequence. I assure you there is no better use for one’s dowry than on the wedding.” 

Grandmother’s voice drops even lower, so none of the vendors can hear, “Pay no mind to the cost our enterprising entrepreneurs have listed. I will not have them overcharge us, however, a wedding is known to be a veritable catalyst to the local businesses and we intend for this one to be so as well.” She leans away and says in a clearer voice, “Indulge an old woman in spoiling her grandchild and his bride, will you not?”

Grandmother pulls away completely before you can respond, turning back to the table. “Some lace fringe for your sleeve caps would be lovely. Unless you wished for full length sleeves?”

“I,” you start to say before giving a slight shake of your head, trying to rally your thoughts. “No, as it will only be further into summer by the wedding. I had believed capped, shorter sleeves would be best.”

“As I anticipated,” Grandmother says, triumphant. “These are all suitable, which do you prefer?” She has selected four specific lace trims. You're still trying to catch up to the idea that Grandmother wishes to have you so fully outfitted for the wedding. In the end, you realize you’re waiting for Dale’s protest–that he would not want to waste your dowry that will be his on such trinkets for you.

Instead, he’s bent over the trims before he looks up at you. “I like the first and third, but of course the choice is yours, my Lady.”

You look down at the fine lace. Truthfully they are all very pretty and you have no preference. Reaching out, you pick up the first with one hand and the third in the other. Grandmother leans closer to see the details more clearly. She taps your left hand. 

You nod. “Yes, I believe the third would be lovely with the brocade.”

“Wonderful,” Grandmother says, putting them over with Dale’s chosen cuffs. “Now, I am aware it is no longer an aspect of high society to wear gloves, but I am afraid I shall have to insist for the wedding.” Grandmother strokes her own light blue gloves. 

Dale doesn’t appear to mind, merely walking over to the other side of the table to inspect the gloves available. When you start to follow, Grandmother steers you over to another table. “Missus Glass is where I purchase my own gloves and they are the superior ladies choice, I assure you. The softest and most comfortable by far.” 

When you lean down to take a closer look at the options, Grandmother tuts, “It is not enough to look at these, you must try them on. Go on, dear. You shall be the one wearing them.”

She waits patiently, sharing stories about her other children’s weddings as you try on a variety of gloves for her benefit, eventually settling on a light cotton pair of gloves. After receiving Grandmother’s approval, with only minimal tutting at the open weave before she admits they were more than acceptable for summer, she goes over to where Dale was examining some canes. 

You find yourself heading back over to the dress forms of Dale’s parents' clothing. Dale was to use his father’s handkerchief, but you are supposed to figure out some way to augment your own outfit with something from them as well. The obvious choice is some part of Dale’s mother’s silver, but that’s also the most delicate and well constructed part of the outfit. Anything you might take seems like a black mark against the way it is now, the whole it has managed to remain these years.

You slowly circle the form, trying to see how it is specifically put together and what seems the most easily removed without damage. You wonder what your parents might send in response to the letter you promised Grandmother you’d write. While aiding in your sister’s wedding, you heard all manner of comment about how weddings had changed, but your mother had never said anything about what became of her actual dress. Most likely she will provide jewelry of some sort, you think and so do not touch the jewelry on a pedestal nearby.

Perhaps…you move closer to inspect the round hat and its connected veil. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Dale walk over to join you, obviously in a far better mood from these days as opposed to yesterday's endless discussion.

“I was thinking that perhaps your mother’s veil would be the best way to incorporate some of her clothing into mine,” you say, gesturing to it pinned to the mannequin’s neck.

“A good idea,” Dale agrees, already reaching out to unfasten it. “The silver will go very well with your hair.”

You blush at the compliment, barely resisting the urge to reach a hand up and make sure he’s seeing the same plain hair on your head as you see. “The rest of the dress is so finely put together, I fear any other alteration could never live up to it.”

Dale nods absently as he takes the hat and veil from the form’s head. He turns you to a nearby mirror with confident hands on your shoulders. More quickly than you expect, he slips behind you to arrange the hat and veil onto your head. You freeze, not wanting to damage such an artifact. You feel Dale delicately arrange the veil and your hair, adjusting some braids so it sits better on your head. 

“What a lovely idea,” Grandmother coos before she leans closer for a more critical look. “I don’t believe the hat suits you though—and it's not the fashion anymore.” You agree, it makes your hair an odd shape and the black would not go with your dress. “We shall have that piece detached from the silver train. The decrease in length shouldn’t be a problem since you’re shorter than Qiana as it is.”

“Are you certain? I wouldn’t want to damage it.” Remaking these items is what Grandmother spoke of, but it's such fine, delicate work.

“Nonsense, it is meant to be worn–not kept in a crate somewhere in the dark. Dale,” she asks imperiously, “fetch one of those little caps so we can see how the veil would look with it. We shall ensure your bride is the finest in years.”

You stare at your reflection, which thankfully does not look as bewildered as you feel. Everything is coming together so quickly and easily, it's as surprising as it is rather wonderful.

Dale smiles to you in the mirror and goes to do as he is bid.

[Part Eight]

#my writing #story: nothing's wrong with dale #nothing's wrong with dale #dale #story part #terato #exophilia #osha compliant #male monster #monster x reader #monster romance #monster boyfriend #arranged marriage #slow burn #this reflects more what my original plan for part seven was before i latched onto the idea of the parents outfits and incorporating that in #it got to long and wasnt finished #and then part 8 was finished #so it just got shelved for later #but now is later #so not a new new chapter but sitll a new chapter #mostly jsut kidna cute #hope you enjoy this bonus/missing scene!

[ambiguouscheese]

matchup information:

status: closed (:

fandoms i'm comfortable writing: genshin impact, honkai star rail, mystic prince, six of crows, nevermore, marionetta, voltron, atla

fandoms i've been in before (know it less tho): harry potter, marauders, stranger things

if there's a fandom you don't see on here, feel free to request it and if it's a fandom i've been in or encountered before, i'll write the matchup for you! if it isn't tho, please do have a backup fandom for me to write for :)

1 matchup per fandom

max fandom request: 2 (except for elaborate aesthetic personality matchups)

types of matchups available: appearance matchups, basic personality matchups, elaborate aesthetic personality matchups

anons allowed!

please read below for more details

note: while each matchup has an estimated amount of time it'll take to finish, how long i actually end up taking will depend on how busy i am at the moment, please be patient! thank you

appearance matchup description

*it is preferred if you aren't anon for this matchup because if you give me your pics and would like them to be private as an anon, i can't really reply to your ask directly!

pic of yourself

specify preferred gender for matched up character

specify characters you specifically do not want

specify if you want a minor or not

i will get back to you in 1-2 days as this is the simplest kind of match-up

i will include the character(s) i have chosen for you based on which ones i think aesthetically fit how you look

this is the most basic kind of match-up, i basically just match you up with someone who i think you would look good with based on appearance and so all i need is your picture!

basic personality matchup description

description of your personality (mbti, enneagram, zodiac, whatever you want! just tell me about yourself)

likes, dislikes, and hobbies

specify preferred gender for matched up character

specify characters you specifically do not want

specify if you want a minor or not

i will get back to you in 1-6 days

i will include sfw headcanons and a description about you and the character i have chosen for you

this is your usual matchup where i read the info you've given me and match you up with a character that i think suits you best! only sfw headcanons and descriptions, and feel free to add any extra little details about yourself!

elaborate aesthetic personality matchup description

*you can only request from ONE fandom for this matchup

description of your personality (mbti, enneagram, zodiac, whatever you want! tell me about yourself)

likes, dislikes, and hobbies

aesthetic (eg: you're more cottagecore or you're more grunge, search up different kinds of aesthetics if you don't know!)

color you think represents you

favorite music artist or song or album

optional: choose multiple things that you think represent you (eg: hyacinth flowers, lip stained wine glasses, vanilla candles, etc)

specify what kind of tropes that you do NOT like

specify preferred gender for matched up character

specify characters you specifically do NOT want

specify if you want a minor or not

i will get back to you in 7-14 days, depending on how busy i am

i will include sfw headcanons, a description about you and the character i have chosen for you including dates i think the two of you would go on or songs i think the two of you would like, a trope or two that i will assign to you and the character's dynamic, a mood board for you and the character you've been matched with based on the descriptions you've given

the more detailed you are, the more elaborate i am able to be!

this is the most elaborate of all the matchups where i'll give you a mood board for the relationship between you and the character you've been matched up with! as well as this, you will receive a trope or two, songs you might listen to together, and potential dates you'd go on. again, as this is the most elaborate, these will take me the longest so please do be patient!

request through the asks!

#genshin matchups #genshin impact #hsr matchups #honkai star rail #voltron matchups #voltron #atla matchups #atla #six of crows #nevermore webtoon #marionetta #matchups #x reader #genshin x reader #honkai x reader #harry potter #marauders #harry potter matchups #marauders matchups

[twistsandtwizzles]

Stars on Mars: Episode 8

I never could have predicted this nine weeks ago, but I have come to truly look forward to watching Stars on Mars every week. The premise remains ridiculous and the show has basically no stakes, but somehow I now find myself watching this show live - commercials and all - and while I’m not entirely sure if the show has actually gotten better or if it has just worn me down . . . we find ourselves here together at Episode 8.

Shatner runs us through the highlights from last week: Team Jock were the first team to successfully complete the mission, but Ronda elected to send herself home from Mars; Base Commander Andy put Cat in the bottom three; and Cat is DEFINITELY carrying a grudge. 

We open on Cat, who is still absolutely furious at Andy for putting her in the bottom three last week. The two of them run into each other in the kitchen and Andy explains again that he was not making a personal decision. Cat says she still doesn’t understand his reasoning because she thinks she and Paul are much stronger players than some of Andy’s other options. Andy sticks to his guns, says he believes that he made the right choice, but apologizes for making Cat feel badly. The confrontation ends with a hug but as Andy acknowledges: “There is still some lingering stuff.”

Lance has joined them in the kitchen and observes silently. You can see him taking in this discussion, sizing both of them and this tension up, and trying to measure how this is going to impact gameplay going forward.

Back in the bunkroom, Porsha is feeling good. “I woke up feeling like a winner,” she says. “I just decided that I am going to go for base commander.” She explains that her name has been thrown about a few times before but she hadn’t felt ready, but that she feels more than ready now.

Lance joins Cat in the gym, and you can tell that he’s decided that Cat would make an excellent addition to Team Jock. He also says that Cat reminds him of his mom, who is in Lance’s words, “A legend. So it’s like the highest compliment.” He and Cat chat about their families and bond.

It’s time to choose a new base commander, and both Ariel and Lance immediately nominate Cat. Ariel tells the camera that she nominated Cat in the hopes that if chosen, she would select Ariel as mission specialist. Cat is grinning, very pleased at this development.

“Any other nominations?” Andy asks.

“I would like to nominate myself,” Porsha says, and I have to admit that I’m not sure about Porsha’s strategy here. Cat has just gotten a nomination from two people - from two very different factions of the crew - and throwing herself in the mix now seems to be creating some tension where there doesn’t need to be. But she does it, and the group seems a little surprised.

“Mmm!” Adam says, looking at Porsha appraisingly. “Yeah, you’ve never been base commander before.”

Porsha lays out her case. “I’ve been mission specialist before, and we did really good that day. It was a lot of directions that need to be told, and even though it’s starting to get difficult, I feel like I could step into the job.”

Porsha tells the camera that she’s feeling extremely confident about the vote - that they have asked her to do the job before. She goes on to say that she’s especially sure that Marshawn is going to have her back.

Cut to Andy asking Marshawn if he has any thoughts re: the base commander vote. “Yeah,” he says, and then doesn’t elaborate.

In his confessional, Marshawn says, “I don’t agree with a lot of people that they say should be base commander. So when it comes to all that, just mind your own business, you know what I mean?”

The group submits their votes, noting that nominees don’t get to vote, which I think may be a new rule? Marshawn wanders away without submitting a vote, and Porsha yells for him to come back. She tells the group, “I need that vote.”

Marshawn comes back. “My vote is Lance.”

I’m just going to say what has been becoming clear for several weeks now: Marshawn appears to have a major issue with women in positions of leadership. It’s disappointing. 

Porsha rolls her eyes, clearly disappointed.

Andy tallies the votes. One vote Paul (“Paul?!” Porsha exclaims, as Paul grins from the corner, hood up and sunglasses on), one vote Lance, two votes Porsha, and three votes Cat. 

“That’s not fair and y’all are stupid,” is Porsha’s response to hearing the vote totals.

The group applauds for Cat and Tinashe says that she thinks Cat will make a good base commander. She also says that Cat has “mom energy” and I’m not so sure that Cat would be thrilled to know that everyone has decided that she’s the Hab Mom.

Cat immediately says that she’s picking Lance as her mission specialist. Ariel tells her that she won’t choose that position until tomorrow. “Cause you also choose based on what the mission is,” Ariel says. I have to respect Ariel for refusing to give up on her goal of being mission specialist this week until she has to.

Cat thinks about that for a second and then says, “Okay, then mission specialist will be between Cat and Ariel.” Hoo boy.

Porsha is extremely disappointed and calls everyone out in the kitchen. “I actually said I wanted to prove myself, and y’all didn’t give a damn about that,” she says. “This is serious. I don’t care about any of you!” She’s half kidding but half not.

Adam laughs. “You don't care about your voters? You seemed pretty concerned about your votes in there!” He gestures to the command center. 

“Listen, when you’re campaigning, you care about your voters,” Porsha says, now laughing for real. “When you’re not, you don’t. That’s how it works. Politics!” Then she says she’s going to take off her “winner shirt” (a black sports bra that does indeed make her boobs look incredible) and put on her “loser shirt.” She returns in a gray hoodie, hood pulled up over her head.

“This is what Hillary Clinton did when she lost the election,” Adam says. “She said ‘fuck those voters’ and went right back to Chappaqua.”

“You remember Winnie the Pooh?” Porsha asks. “I’m the little donkey.”

Everyone: “Eeyore?”

Porsha nods and lowers her head, pretending to mope around. From the couches, Marshawn hollars for Porsha. She blows him off. “What do you want from me?!”

Cat moves into the base commander suite, saying she feels pretty proud of the fact that she went from bottom three to base commander in a day. She also says she’s not here for drama and that nothing she’s going to do is personal. THAT’S WHAT THEY ALL SAY!

Adam and Porsha are dissecting the vote - Porsha notes that Andy clearly voted for Cat to try to get on her good side, but that she’s pretty positive that isn’t going to make a difference. “You make someone that competitive cry? It’s over.”

“Cat is a firecracker,” Adam tells us. “She seems really competitive. But, you know, I did vote for Porsha. So am I unsafe? Oh, yeah. I am. Yes.”

Back from commercials, Paul is teaching Lance how to play dominoes, and explaining why he got fired from his commentary job on ESPN: he livestreamed a video of him drinking and playing poker with strippers. Lance appears slightly scandalized and amused by this: “Bitch, how old are you?”

Porsha has Marshawn cornered in the kitchen. “Why’d you choose Lance today? I know you don’t want me to be base commander first. You want me to wait til it gets down to the tough part and then you want to make me responsible as base commander.”

(Personally I think it’s very generous of Porsha to believe that Marshawn is playing a strategy game here, rather than not just wanting a woman telling him what to do.)

“That wasn’t the issue -” Marshawn begins but she cuts him off.

“It was my time! I’ve never -”

“No, it’s not your time yet,” he says. 

“Why?” she demands. “I want to win. You want me to go. If you're trying to get rid of me, then just tell me, cause I want to know what’s going on.”

Marshawn laughs in her face.

“I know what you’re doing!” Porsha says. “You’re in it. You’re just acting like you’re not, cause you think you’re cool.”

In his confessional, Marshawn has this to say: “I don’t know about strategy, but if a woman’s second toe is longer than her first toe, she got an attitude problem. And Porsha . . . second toe’s longer than her first.”

Sure. Seems like a cool, legit way to approach your relationship with women!

It’s time to assign base duties. The bio dome plants need some love, and the trash needs to be taken out: “Two stars must go through the trash and determine what can be reused and what they must bury for future Mars settlers to recycle,” Cat reads from her command sheet. “So, I have to pick two people to go outside and do trash.”

Lance volunteers to go outside. Cat sends Andy to go with him.

“Hmm, who’s going to go outside with Lance and pick through trash?” Andy asks. “Oh, yeah. Me. The guy who put her in the bottom three. I do think that Cat had it out for me a little bit.”

Lance and Andy pick through the trash. Lance uses the opportunity to try and win Andy over to his side as well. “I would have hated to be base commander yesterday,” he tells Andy sympathetically. “It was a hard one.”

Andy says again that he wasn’t trying to pick on Cat and Paul, but that they were the team that did their mission least successfully. (Again, I do have to commend Adam for so successfully getting Andy to change his mind on who was in the bottom three that it does not even seem to occur to Andy that it was not his original plan.)

“I’m just here to do things as they are supposed to be done,” Andy says. “And if they send me home for that, then oh well. And this whole notion of alliances and all that . . . I’m too old for that.”

In the bio dome the rest of the group is tending to the plants and making small talk. “What’s the first thing you’re gonna do when you get back to earth?” Cat asks.

“Get a colonic,” Adam replies instantly. Cat cracks up.

Apparently the base duty instructions also say that they need to sing to the plants. Cat immediately starts singing the Star Spangled Banner. The group tentatively joins in until Porsha says, “everybody, hush your nasty voices” and gives the floor to Tinashe, who - being a recording artist - has a lovely voice. 

“What a beautiful way to colonize a planet,” Adam says, as the song finishes.

Cat and Lance are back in the gym and she’s explaining that she’s either going to choose him or Ariel for mission specialist. He is underwhelmed by this. “I’ll do whatever,” he says. “But we have folks who have really tried to not go outside. And maybe it’s time for those folks who . . .”

“Haven’t done it,” Cat finishes. “I agree with that.”

Lance tells the camera, “At the beginning, I didn’t want to be mission specialist just ‘cause I like to go outside. Now having said that, inside means safe. Inside means immunity. And coming up on two weeks in here . . . this thing is now a game. And I feel like I’m playing the game right.”

The lights start flickering and then the emergency sirens go off. Time for this week’s mission! Shatner explains that there has been a solar flare that has interfered with the hab’s electronics, and that they need to repair the solar panels before another flare hits. “This mission will test your trust,” he tells them, before finishing with, “I want you to know that I love you.”

“That’s the first time he’s said he loved us!” Porsha exclaims with a laugh.

Unsurprisingly, Cat chooses Lance to be mission specialist. Ariel is not thrilled. Everyone suits up and heads outside. The mission seems pretty simple on the surface: unplug the old cables that are connecting the solar panels to the transformer, and replace them with new ones.

Cat begins reading from her command sheet, and Andy interrupts to ask, “What are the instructions?”

“Clear the line, please,” Cat says testily. 

The group easily unplugs the old cables, and gets the new cables out of the supply shed. The new cables are in a jumble and Paul yells at everyone that they are tangled. “So untangle them,” Tinashe says, already walking away toward a solar panel with hers.

Cat begins reading instructions and Andy interrupts again - I am assuming it is hard to hear out there, but you can tell that this is not endearing him to Cat. “Clear the line, please,” she says again. Cat and Lance tell everyone that they need to plug all the cables in at the exact same time. They do so, with seventeen minutes remaining.

Of course, it’s not that easy. Alarm sirens blare and the AI tells them that another solar flare has hit, and as a precaution everyone outside has had their “protective blackout shields activated.” In other words: now none of the celebs outside can see a thing.

So if I was base commander: I would have everyone out at the solar panels use their cable as a guide back to the transformer, and then once they all got to the transformer, direct them back to the hab. This is not what Lance and Cat do. Instead, they direct the crew, one by one, to the center point between the solar panels and the transformer, get in a single file line, hold onto each other’s shoulders, and walk slowly back to the hab.

This works, albeit slowly. Adam tells us that he was feeling annoyed because there had to have been an easier way to get them all safely back to the hab. Time is ticking by quickly. As Lance is giving Marshawn instructions, Cat says something, and Lance HOLDS UP ONE FINGER TO SHUSH HER. This guy.

Eventually the whole group is linked up and they start slowly staggering, single file and holding hands, back to the hab. “We couldn’t see when we were out there,” Adam says. “And the feedback we were getting felt like they couldn’t see, either, even though they could see.”

The group makes it to the rovers, Marshawn in the front of the group. “You’re almost at the rovers,” Lance tells them. “Marshawn, move to your left.”

“How much more left?” Marshawn asks. 

“A little more,” Lance says. “Stay calm, everyone, we are at one minute to go. Stay on the left side of the rover, Marshawn.”

The group navigates around the first rover and Lance says, “Just go straight ahead. Trust it. There is nothing in front of you.”

Marshawn promptly walks directly into the second rover. “Lance had one job to do that he didn’t do,” Marshawn says in his talking head. “And it was to not lead me into the damn rovers.”

With less than thirty seconds left, they reach the door. One by one, they make it inside - with ten seconds left. “Get me the *bleep* out of this *bleeping* helmet,” Adam says, as Cat and Lance celebrate in the command center.

Lance and Cat realize that picking a bottom three for this mission is going to be very difficult, because everyone did their jobs as they were supposed to. Andy says he’s glad Cat is now experiencing how difficult it is to pick three people to feel bad. 

Cat and Lance strategize. Lance says he’d prefer not to put Ariel in the bottom three “since the game has gotten so political” (aka it would look like he’s being petty), that Tinashe is always so good and calm, and that Marshawn was also a standout. Cat says that she felt like Andy got frustrated and wasn’t listening to her. 

They come to a decision and start calling people in: Tinashe, followed by Marshawn (“bye Porsha” he says as he heads inside; “That’s so rude!” Porsha yells at his back), Ariel (who exchanges an extremely awkward fist bump with Lance), and then Porsha.

That leaves Paul, Andy, and Adam as our bottom three.

“I’m actually feeling really annoyed,” Adam says in his confessional. “I really do believe that when you’re trying to figure out, like, ‘I don’t know who to put in the bottom three,’ you’re just like, ‘well, just put Adam in there,’ and I really hate that!”

The three men line up to make their case as to why they should stay. Adam is first, and he lets his annoyance seep out a bit: “I was doing exactly what I was told to do, and I moved all the cables to the right numbers, and everybody was all ready to go . . . So where do you think I fell flat?”

Cat sighs. “I think it was just the fact that we had two point people who were communicating at all times, and helping everyone else . . . it’s just who were the MVPs and who were the great crew members, and that’s where we’re at.”

“Mm-hm,” Adam replies. I feel like he’s trying really hard not to roll his eyes out of frustration.

Andy is next. He says that he thinks he did his job as well as everyone else did, and that he understands the tough position Cat was in. In his talking head, he says that he had hoped that the bad blood was gone between he and Cat, but it clearly was not. “I’m a little worried,” he said. Cat tells the group that if anyone out there had difficulties today, it was Andy.

Paul says that he was able to be calm and efficient. Tinashe tells the camera that she doesn’t think Paul is the most mission critical. “I gotta keep it 100. I just haven’t seen anything that to me makes him more mission critical than anyone else.”

The group comes to a consensus, and calls Adam back into the hab. He gives some fist bumps and disappears down the hall.

Paul is called in next, which means Andy is going home. “In no way, shape, or form is this personal,” Cat says. “For me it’s all about business and strategy.”

To the rest of the group in the hab, though, the message is clear: Cat will hold a grudge.

Andy says in his exit interview that he probably made a mistake: “If I had voted for Porsha and she was base commander, I very well might still be a part of this.”

Later that night, Marshawn is still mad that Lance directed him to walk right into a rover. “He gotta go,” he says.

“Tomorrow you might have a chance to vote me off,” Lance tells him.

Porsha walks into the kitchen, wig off and sporting her natural hair, which is short and slicked back against her head. “Boo!” she says, grinning.

“Whoa,” Lance says. “How’d that work?”

Marshawn cracks up at Lance’s confusion. “How’d that work?” he echoes mockingly.

“This is my natural hair,” Porsha tells Lance. “You like it?”

Lance is dumbfounded. “I like it a lot, but I’m freaked out,” Lance says. “I would have bet my life that was your hair.”

Porsha slides on a pair of aviator sunglasses. “I’m going to wear these tomorrow when I’m base commander,” she tells the group. She's a new, determined Porsha now.

“I’ve got this,” she tells the camera. “Watch me work.”

Next week: Lance tells Cat that he woke up that morning and decided he was going home, and there’s a living creature in the hab that sends everyone crawling through the vents. See you then!

#adam rippon #recaps #stars on mars

[merakiui]

Half-Off Love

yandere!scaramouche x (gender neutral) reader art credit - kentasha1236 on twt cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, gold-digging, implied yandere!childe note - thank you so much for 600 followers! o(≧∇≦o) I’ll work hard!

It’s strange. There’s no other adjective to describe the situation you’ve found yourself in. 

The ring slides itself onto your steady finger and it’s a miracle your discomfort doesn’t show. Your eyes struggle to meet his, but when they do you’re searching for a reason—for a meaning behind such a generous gift. You’ve witnessed this scene plenty of times before, having scoffed at the couples who decide to take their relationship to the next level. Whether it be in Mondstadt or Liyue, you’ve watched your fair share of angelic proposals. Although this is far from a proposal—at least, you hope it’s not a proposal. You’d feel powerless to decline if Scaramouche put you in such a position, and you’re almost certain he’s aware of this. 

But the main thing—you now realize—that’s holding him back is your status and his relationship with you. It’s nothing special, just mere physical attraction rather than the emotional hindrances that come with real, heart-racing love. There’s nothing wholesome in the way you regard one another; it’s just sex. 

“Do you like it? I made sure to find only the highest quality gemstone for you.”

And yet when he performs this caring charade, it doesn’t feel like loveless copulation. 

Ew, you think, plastering a smile to your face. Since when was Scaramouche so concerned with materialistic signs of affection? He’s far from loving; he’s just pent-up, frustrated from his rigorous job as a Harbinger and so he decides to use you as a means of coping. He almost sounds like Childe with his ineffective flirting methods. You’ve received your fair share of spoils from him as well, and you’ve done everything you could to cull that relationship before it grew out of hand. But now you’re stuck with the lesser side of the coin: another troublesome Fatui Harbinger. 

If you didn’t know any better, you might think to chase after Signora or Dottore next. Maybe you’ll aim for the Tsaritsa Herself if you’re especially daring. After all, your life has been nothing but deceit and faux pleasures; there’s little value to a liar’s life. If the Archons wish for your swift end, you’re positive it’ll be a result of your insatiable greed.

“It’s lovely. The color matches my eyes.”

It doesn’t, but you lie about it anyways. And he looks pleased to hear your approval. 

“Then perhaps I should get you a bracelet as well? Or would you prefer something with a little more use, such as a pocket watch?”

Why don’t you just lock me up with a collar instead? you think bitterly, already keen on pawning the ring off once the initial luster fades. Since you’re so eager to buy these things for me in hopes that I’ll return. It’s annoying.

“This is more than enough. I don’t want you to spend a fortune on me.” There’s a sweet lilt in your voice as your hand cups his cheek, and he leans into your warm touch, starved of the affection like a stray mutt. ”I only need you per our agreement. You do remember what that is, right?”

He’d be caught dead bending to the desires of someone so insignificant, but he just can’t stay away. Not when your every word is intoxicating poison he’ll readily ingest. 

“I’m aware." There’s a sigh in his tone as he pulls away, almost as if he wants to simply sit there and indulge in playful conversation. As if he actually wants to familiarize himself with the real you. But that emotion doesn’t last for long and an irritated expression crawls onto his handsome face as he silently recalls something. 

You’re slipping your silks off with grace, curiously tracking his movements. “You look upset. Was it because of what I said?”

“Of course not. You could never upset me.”

Until you get bored of me.

When you cast your robes aside, reaching for Scaramouche’s elaborate outfit, you murmur, “Let me guess. It was that traveler again, wasn’t it? I’m not sure why you’re so hung up on them.” A whimper leaks into your voice and you fix him with a pout. “I’m sad you’d think of others when I’m right here. Aren’t I the only one you need?”

It’s ironic how quickly that line hooks him, dragging him up from the murkiest depths of love that has skewed into obsession. When you tried it out on Childe, he wasn’t so easily swayed. You find their differences to be invigorating. If the arrangement with Childe was still ongoing, you might’ve considered a threesome, if only to wring more glittering treasures out of the both of them. Mora and jewelry galore, it all goes towards your stockpiled savings. And it’s times like these when you’re lucky to have avoided economic business with the Fatui. Being free of Fatui debt has its perks, a bright miracle in your dark relationships. That’s one less tether to Scaramouche and one less reason to cling to him after you’ve had enough. 

He smirks at your forced envy, easily pushing you backwards onto the plush mattress once he’s fully undressed. For a brief moment, he pictures your pliant body sprawled across an office desk while he pounds into you from behind, putting on a lewd show for his leering underlings. There’s something arousing about your secret relationship that has strange ideas formulating within his head. He entertains a simple scheme, one in which he’d shed light on your connection; however, the other side of him wants to keep your existence for himself, where no one will disturb the two of you in your pleasurable endeavors.

Perhaps you would truly belong to him if he were to expose you for the fraud you really are. Oh, the joy of trapping an unsuspecting rat in a corner, with no way out but into his open arms. You’ll hardly have any semblance of a choice, but he knows you’ll choose the option that guarantees another chance at life.

Scaramouche thinks about that as he revels in soft, tantalizing foreplay. He knows you aren’t as dedicated to this relationship as he is and he’s almost certain you’ve got others waiting for you in different parts of Teyvat. He’s just another plaything you’ve picked up for the fun of it. And in these moments where you surrender to his touch, your back arching with avaricious thoughts, you seem to forget about the power he truly wields. The thought that he could suffocate you in this very bed with his love alone should have you taking precautions to cover your vulnerability, but you only have your eyes set on one thing—not exactly minding the outcome so long as it’s monetarily favorable.

And if playing into your covetous hands ensures your weekly arrival, he’ll gladly empty his pockets of spare change.

You don’t like this new side of him. Lately he’s been treating this as if the two of you are lovers: slow, sensual thrusts accompanied with the sweetest of promises. You’ve never really minded the filth he’d moan in your ear and now you wish he’d resort to that instead. Loveless words spoken through the veil of lust—that’s what you want to hear.  

He envelops you like a smothering fog, fitting himself snugly inside of your tight hole in an embrace that’s oh so familiar. You aren’t used to such gentle treatment and as he kisses along your collarbone you feel yourself going under, having fallen victim to a Harbinger who is normally so cold-hearted. Perhaps he’s more sensitive than you originally thought. Months ago, you wouldn’t have imagined your relationship would grow into something so uncertain, where emotionless love becomes packaged and bogged down with so much feeling.

His lips ghost over yours and there’s a slight pause in his actions. You turn your head to the side, denying his choking affection before it can drag you further into a spiraling abyss of regret. Annoyance swells in his hazy gaze, but he uses your new position to his advantage.

“It’s cute,” he says in a hushed voice, breath tickling your ear, “how you seem to rid yourself of my gifts as soon as they fall into your hands. I wonder where they’ve gone. Into the harbor? Traded off for food and shelter? Do tell me.”

When his grip on your hip tightens to a threatening degree, you resign yourself, opting to hold your tongue as his pace remains brutally slow. Rather than speaking out of line, you raise your hand to his face, and he clasps your wrist in a forceful hold. 

The look in his eyes is far from loving—it’s that same obsessed expression Childe wore. And even if he still searches for you for reasons other than sex, you’re aware there’s no luck where Scaramouche is concerned. You can run from Childe because he’ll allow it—because he adores the chase—but Scaramouche hardly finds delight in a game of cat and mouse. You should’ve expected this. After all, he is just as conniving as the rest, always inventing new ways to track down and eradicate that peculiar traveler. Of course he would know about how you handle his presents when he isn’t looking because there’s no denying the stern gazes that would pierce through your backside whenever you went to the market.

"I’d never throw them out like that...” you mumble through another soft moan, hoping he’ll just pick up the pace and be done with you. “Your gifts are priceless.”

And yet the price for your own love is so hefty. If he weren’t Fatui, it might be enough to throw him into lifelong debt.

“Is that so? You seem to put a price on them whenever you visit the marketplace.” His fingers grip your chin, forcing you into an inescapable eye contact. “If you enjoy putting prices on items that you claim are priceless, you won’t mind if I collect a refund for your dishonesty.”

“A...refund?” 

Your lustful thoughts evaporate once you realize his pace has become horribly slow, his dick stilling and creating an itch of barely noticeable ecstasy. You wiggle your hips to increase the friction, wanting to get yourself off before his words can sour the mood. Though it’s already spoiled when you recognize the carnal victory shining in his twisted smirk. Your unfortunate fate was sealed the moment you welcomed his company with foolish openness, and you’ve been indebted ever since he decided to spoil you with lavish foods and accessories. 

For love that is far from cheap, interest must be paid and your very being makes for the perfect bargain.

It’s weird when he kisses you on your lips rather than on the parts of your body that are normally obscured with delicate cloth. And it’s even weirder when that metaphorical collar binds your throat in a vice. It’s more harrowing than any sort of debt you might’ve garnered and it’s just as inconvenient as his boyish adoration.

Scaramouche doesn’t have to purchase your flimsy, half-off love when it’s already prepackaged and ready for the taking. 

“You heard me. A refund is hardly enough punishment for a lying brat, but it will have to suffice for now.”

For now.

Spurred on by his own insinuating threats, he seeks to bruise your very insides with thrusts that are filled with physical vexation rather than the emotional ministrations from before. And since you’re so accustomed to him, your greedy hole eagerly welcomes him. 

#yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #genshin impact scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #genshin impact lemon #scaramouche lemon #yandere scaramouche #yandere scaramouche x reader #yandere genshin impact scaramouche #n/sfw #i'd like to write a part two #please enable me orz

[caroldantops]

please don’t go (i’ll eat you whole)

ship: dark!agatha harkness/fem!reader

summary/request: you’re a stress laden college student with way more anxiety than you can handle. luckily, your friend wanda knows of a therapist that knows just how to take care of you. (modern au)

word count: 5.7k

this is a darkfic and contains the following dark themes, read at your own discretion: dubcon, unbalanced power dynamics (therapist/patient relationship), manipulation, codependency, obsessive behaviors, and possible hints at other themes but those are all the explicit ones.

if you’d like elaboration on any of these warnings feel free to ask!

other warnings:  smut (18+ only!), dom!agatha, sub!reader, praise kink, mommy kink, fingering (r receiving), vibrators, dirty talk, possessive agatha, lots of pet names, legal age gap, allusions to wanda/agatha, discussion of anxiety and mental illnesses

faq | masterlist

The sound of your shoes squeaking against the floor as your leg bounces anxiously draws the attention of the three other people in the waiting room. You, however, are completely unaware of the noise and the glares that you’re getting. The thoughts in your head are all jumbles of words happening all at once. Pure alphabet soup. 

You really don’t want to be here. Any sort of doctor’s office always sets off your anxiety, but this one in particular is sending you into overdrive. All of the pamphlets talking about how to support your child with depression, the T.V. that’s playing some animation about finding support groups with chillingly corporate animations, and the other patients who all look like they would rather be anywhere else. 

Was it too late to bail out of this? Maybe you should just try going to those weird “self-care sessions” that your college advertises rather than actually putting any of the funding into finding more and better counselors. The therapy dogs are pretty cute. Corgis are enough of a cure for your anxiety that keeps you from socializing with anybody outside of your friends that you can count on a single hand, right?

You look at your phone. Three texts, two are from your roommate Darcy, and one from Wanda. Your eyes shoot towards the clock on the wall, then to the exit, as if planning a grand escape (as if anyone in this waiting room would care about what you did). The overly sweet secretary notices you fidgeting and asks if you need anything, but you just shake your head and mumble out something about just checking the time. 

Darcy’s messages are just her asking if you needed more coffee pods, to which you reply “yes please.” Wanda, however, is telling you that she hopes that your first session goes alright. 

What exactly should you say to that? 

“Yep, hope they shoot the serotonin straight into my body!” Or maybe, “Thanks. Unrelated, can you come kill me?” 

Both are good options, but you opt to just send a heart as a reply. 

Wanda is the one who suggested this particular counselor when you finally admitted that you were in a place where you needed to at least try. You had noticed a big difference in Wanda over the past year after she started seeing Dr. Harkness, so you were willing to at least go to a few sessions and see if it would be the right fit. 

You’re so wrapped up in your own brain, mentally trying to decide if there’s a last minute way you could back out of this, that you practically jump out of your seat when you hear a woman’s voice calling your name. Standing in the doorway that leads to the offices, you see Dr. Harkness for the first time. 

Wanda apparently failed to mention the fact that the therapist she’s been seeing is incredibly attractive. 

“You okay, honey?” Dr. Harkness asks as you remain paralyzed in your seat, your fight or flight instincts apparently choose to freeze at the sight of this woman who makes your mouth go dry. 

“Yes! I’m fine, sorry. I zone out a lot,” you try to casually laugh it off as you let her lead you to her office. 

“Noted. But next time just take a picture, dear, it’ll last you longer,” Dr. Harkness teases with a wink. You’re a little stunned at how she doesn’t hesitate to joke with you as if she’s known you for years. Or at least more than three seconds. But it’s actually comforting in a way, making the whole process seem less sterile. Your shoulders visibly relax when you finally sink into the comfy couch in Dr. Harkness’s office.

While she pulls your file up on her laptop, you look around and see a large variety of things. There’s items that you assume were given to her with the office, like the filing cabinets and minimalist white bookshelf, but everything else feels like a distinct mixing of eras and random purchases. 

The desk that she’s working at would definitely take over a room any smaller than this. It’s huge, and clearly an antique. You’re not even sure how it fit through the door. It definitely does not match the rolling chair from Office Max that Dr. Harkness is sitting in, rolling herself ever so slightly back and forth as she hums and scans through documents. The couch you’re on doesn’t feel like anything special - other than the fact that it really makes you want to nap on it - but the stuffed rabbit that has to be as tall as (if not taller than) you stares at you from the other corner of the couch. 

There’s a table next to you that is filled with things that catch your interest. Apart from the record player and antique lamp that looks like a bunch of twisted tree branches, there’s a bunch of fun desk decor, various crystals that you have no idea the meaning behind, and fidget toys that your hands twitch to mess with. 

“You’re allowed to touch, dear,” Dr. Harkness’s voice startles you. You look up and see that she’s been watching you, probably for longer than you registered. “Anything in here is free for you to play with, that’s why it’s here!” 

You bite your tongue to keep yourself from making the obvious joke of asking if those parameters include her. Probably not the first impression you want to make. You stay silent and grab a little stack of magnets off of the table and start arranging them as Dr. Harkness finally starts asking you questions.

You were the one who did most of the analyzing that day. While she was going over your initial screening, getting an idea of what exactly you were here for and what would be the best way to spend your short hour together, you were studying her carefully. Something about Dr. Harkness - Agatha, you learned her first name was, as she insists you call her by it - lured you in like she has her own gravitational pull. 

You ramble on a lot more than you usually would - probably just glad to have someone whose job it is to be non judgemental - talking about your schoolwork and the few friends you had, which professors drove you up the wall and which ones you actually looked forward to seeing. It all just flows out of you, and you don’t even realize fully what you’re saying because of how focused you are on staring at Agatha. 

All of your nerves seem to dissipate as soon as you started talking to Agatha. It was no wonder that Wanda sung such high praises of the woman, because what would usually feel like a grueling process of small talk that started digging into more of your personal life sped by, and before you knew it, the hour was up. 

“Well, time flies when you’re in good company,” Agatha says as she walks you back towards the lobby. Her hand drifts to your lower back as she leads you out. The gesture seems rather forward, but you figure that maybe she’s just a generally touchy person, so you don’t flinch away. Plus, you kind of like the way the lingering touch leaves goosebumps along your skin. “I hope to hear good things about that paper you’re working on, dear.” 

“I am too,” you laugh. “I’ll try my best.” 

“Good girl!” Agatha beams. “See you next week!” 

Looking back on it, you were doomed from the start. 

//

You really can’t quite place what it is about Agatha that fascinates you so deeply. Perhaps it's your general penchant for getting inappropriately attached to older female figures in your life.

This woman has you enamored. With her dark hair you want to run your hands through, with the lines of her face that you want to trace with your fingertips, with her laugh that kept ringing in your ears through the whole session after you made a snide comment about how you love life was dry in more ways than one.  

Freud would probably have some backwards, perverted reasoning for how dependent your self-esteem became on the praise of any female teacher you even remotely liked. 

But, fuck Freud. Maybe you just like hot women who just happen to be old enough to be your mother. 

This thought process (minus the part about wanting Agatha to kiss you and touch you and make you come undone) all comes spilling out one session as you’re telling Agatha how the paper you had mentioned during your first meeting had come back. It was certainly not your worst grade ever, but it was definitely far from your best. The grade itself would be much more bearable if the comments on it weren’t practically giving you hives. 

“A stickler for praise, huh?” Agatha hums, propping her chin up on her knee. She plays with the end of her sleeves as she ponders what you’ve said, a habit that you’ve caught onto over the last month and a half. You always like when she does this, pushing her sleeves up to her elbows. Her hands make your mouth water, and you long to suck on her long digits or feel the veins in her “Sounds like a lot of girls I’ve been in bed with.” 

You’re mostly used to Agatha’s flippant innuendos by now, but somehow the more you’ve talked to her, the more flustered they make you. You have gotten braver, daring to fire back with responses that always make Agatha laugh. You’re not sure if you’re actually funny, or she’s just making you feel better. 

(You don’t really care, so long as you get to hear Agatha’s laugh.)

Maybe you should’ve questioned whether Agatha’s jokes were a little too much sometimes. The fact that they were enough to make you squirm in your chair sometimes could probably attest to that. But, you always make those types of jokes with your friends. Darcy and your friendship practically revolves around pretend flirting with each other, so this was probably equitable, right?

“Do you have more papers for this class coming up?” Agatha asks. 

“One more before our final project.” 

“Well, sounds like you have plenty of opportunity to bring up the grade then!” 

“That’s true. This one still stings, though. She could’ve at least told me some of the things I did well. Not just all my stupid mistakes,” you admit, twisting the new fidget toy Agatha added to her collection with your fingers. Your attention is fully on the toy as you avoid eye contact, the way you always do when you feel that anxiety tightening in your chest. Agatha gives you a moment of silence before she speaks again. 

“Hey, look at me,” she scoots closer to you, putting her hands over your own as the fidgeting gets shakier. You look up and meet her gaze. Her face is but a breath away from you, and you hold your own out of fear. 

The intense warmth you feel as you watch her eyes flicker across your face, lingering just this side of too long on your lips, takes over your entire body. Her unwavering stare invites you in and threatens to eat you whole. 

And, god, you’re so sure that you would let her. 

Not even sexually. (Well, that too). But you feel safe in her presence. There’s no pressure to pretend like you’re a perfect person that does shitty things sometimes. No pressure to act like sometimes you’re not falling apart at the seams. 

And even when the seams rip sometimes (which Agatha has certainly seen in a couple of your sessions), she’s been here to help sew you back up, giving you the reassurance that you can’t ever give yourself, that you’re growing to constantly crave in every decision you make. 

 “One paper will not ruin your life. Hell, multiple papers won’t ruin your life. But also, it’s okay to be upset about it.” Agatha’s thumbs rub soothingly against your hands, and the tenderness of the motion helps you forget how your hands are the only thing between hers and your inner thighs. “Your grades don’t define you, honey. You’ve got so many more things going for you than just a GPA.”

“Sure doesn’t feel like it sometimes,” you mumble. You’re not-so-secretly fishing for a compliment, and Agatha knowingly takes the bait. 

“Well, I can certainly think of a few. You’re clever, for one thing. And very sweet, especially when you bring me an iced coffee,” Agatha moves away from you for a second to grab the aforementioned drink and take a sip for effect. It pulls you out of your moping and earns her a laugh. She doesn’t return her hands to your own, but rests one of them on your knee, repeating that same circular motion with her thumb. You’d probably pull away if it wasn’t difficult to rearrange yourself from your criss-cross sitting position and the little room Agatha’s left you to move. But, with the way the touch sends electricity across your skin makes you glad that there isn’t room to pull away. “Not to mention, you’re certainly easy on the eyes, baby.” 

 “Then maybe I should just sleep with the professor,” you reply, trying to ignore the way your heart is racing. You were definitely not oblivious to the ways that Agatha checked you out. She was pretty obvious about it, but like everything she does, that must be intentional. “That should get me an easy A, right?”

“It sure would work on me. Just make sure you tell me all of the juicy details, sweetheart,” Agatha winks. 

“Of course,” you tease back. “I promised to be more open, didn’t I?”

“You did. And you’re doing so well, darling,” she pats your knee affectionately before rolling her chair back to her desk as the alarm signalling the end of your session goes off. You practically glow under the praise. 

On your way out, you wonder to yourself if you’ve given Agatha new reinforcement methods when you talked about your need for reassurance. Plus, you can’t stop thinking about Agatha’s touch, either. All of those little moments stick in your brain and create a certain itch that can’t be scratched. Not until you see her again. 

Or, it’s temporarily relieved when your hand finds its way between your legs at night, wishing that it was Agatha tracing your folds and whispering against your skin how good you are. But even after you’ve made yourself cum, you feel unsatisfied. A little empty. 

The thought of Agatha holding you tight against her chest is the only thing that helps you finally drift off to sleep. 

//

“Sorry, sorry! I know I’m late!” Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath. The waitress that just set down waters for Wanda and Monica raises an eyebrow at your disheveled appearance and quickly goes to get a glass for you as well. You try to thank her, but Wanda just tugs you down into the booth next to her.

“It’s nothing,” Monica waves off your apology. “I’m just glad you could finally grace us with your presence.” 

“Yeah, you seem to be even busier than usual,” Wanda comments. 

“Well, it’s almost finals season,” you explain, still out of breath from the way you ran from your car. “Plus, my therapy appointments had to be moved around the past couple of weeks ‘cuz of Agatha’s other patients rescheduling a bunch. So I had to make time for that.” 

“I thought that was only like, once a week?” 

“Twice, now.” 

“The semester’s really been that bad? I thought you liked most of your classes,” Monica asks, concern gracing her features. 

“Eh, it’s about as stressful as it always is,” you shrug. “But my anxiety has been much less intense when I have therapy, so Agatha suggested maybe increasing the times I see her would make it even more manageable.” 

Wanda nods in understanding, but Monica purses her lips, obviously tempted to keep prying. She doesn’t, thankfully. But you can tell that even as the three of you start talking about other things that she’s trying to figure out how to approach you with more questions without making things tense. 

Your mind starts wandering as Monica explains some technical engineering project she’s working on that you can’t comprehend, and then you notice your phone light up. The name that appears in the notification makes you smile, and you immediately reply back. 

“Ooh, that’s a very happy face. Who’re you texting? New girlfriend?” Wanda asks, poking your side playfully. 

“What? No,” you roll your eyes. “It’s just Agatha.” 

“Agatha?” Monica squints at you. “As in, your therapist Agatha?” 

“Yes?” You can feel the judgement coming and are quick to defend yourself before any accusation is even made. “Tons of people have their therapist’s number. It’s not a big deal. She likes to check in and ask how my day is going. She just wants to know if I can get coffee today.”

“Pretty sure they usually don’t do that,” Monica says, apprehension growing stronger by the second. “Is she texting all her patients for life updates or coffee dates?” 

“She’s done that with me,” Wanda shrugs, stabbing a forkful of salad. “Not as much anymore, but still.” 

“See?” You gesture to Wanda. “Not weird! And Wanda’s been doing great since she started seeing Agatha. Her methods clearly work.” 

“I’m not saying they don’t,” Monica’s eyes flick between you and Wanda. “But I’m just worried about you becoming dependent on Agatha, because it seems to me like you’re leaning on her a lot for support.” 

“Dependent? I’m just going to therapy, Monica. Isn’t she supposed to support me?”

“Yes, but--”

“And weren’t you one of the ones who suggested that it would help me manage my stress?” You scoff. Monica doesn’t reply to that, because she knows it’s true. It was out of love, of course. She was easily the most reasonable out of your circle of friends (not that it was tough competition with Wanda and Darcy around). Wanda is silently watching the argument with rapt attention. You kind of wish she’d support you more, but you also feel kind of bad, because you know Monica is just looking out for you. “Guess what? My stress is being managed!” 

“Look,” Monica sighs and raises her hands in defeat. “I’m so, so glad that this is working for you. But I also know that it’s important that you feel like you have everything under control even when you’re not sitting in Agatha’s office. And no matter how much you like your therapist, there’s a line that shouldn’t be crossed.” 

“No lines are being crossed,” you huff. You stand up abruptly and shuffle through your wallet and throw some cash down on the table. Monica rubs her temples, and Wanda tries to stop you from leaving. “I’m not doing anything I don’t want to. I appreciate the concern, but I think I need to leave now.”

Monica is civil as she bids you goodbye, telling you that she’ll see you soon. Wanda tells you that she’s demanding another lunch soon, and you give them both a flippant wave as response. 

Just as you’re leaving, you notice that you have several more notifications from Agatha, repeatedly asking you to answer her coffee request. Monica’s words pick at your brain, but the thought of seeing Agatha today eases all of the tension that the argument had created in your body. 

You finally respond and tell Agatha that you’ll meet her in an hour. 

//

The argument with Monica was temporarily relieved by getting coffee with Agatha that day. She reassured you that she would never do anything that she didn’t think you’d be okay with (not that you’d had any doubts). But when Monica asked to get lunch again as an apology for the disagreement, the churning in your stomach made you feel terrible every time you thought about it, so you ended up cancelling last minute. 

And you did the same with Wanda the next day. You made up an excuse about having too many things to do. It wasn’t a complete lie. But the work wasn’t so difficult or important that you didn’t spend time texting Agatha while you were doing it. 

Even Darcy, who uses up the absolute least amount of your social battery got caught up in the whole thing. The idea of even sitting around and watching a trashy movie with her sounds like effort that you’d rather put elsewhere. She’s surprised, since you almost never turn her down, but doesn’t question it at all. 

It sucks when you can so easily bail on your friends, but you also feel immense guilt over letting them down. It eats you up from the inside out, and you desperately want to scratch at your skin because it feels like the anxiety is trying to claw its way out of you and and and--

Breathe.

The voice in your head centers you. You flex your fingers, bad feelings still bubbling and threatening to spill over.

You’re okay. 

The voice is Agatha’s. It makes you realize that it’s Tuesday. You can see her today. She can take the bad feelings away and replace them with her warmth. The warmth that you crave every day. The warmth that makes you think you finally understand what love should feel like. The warmth that soothes you, swaddles you, swallows you. 

And everything will be okay once it does.

Agatha, the professional that she is, immediately knows that you’re worse for wear than you have been in quite a few weeks. She already knows generally what’s going on with you, since you were consistently in contact over the past week, but she sees the exhaustion on your face and wants nothing more than to take it all away from you. 

“Oh, dear. You’re looking like something the cat dragged in. C’mere, come tell mommy about it,” Agatha coos when she sees the dark circles under your eyes. The sudden nickname sends a slight shiver down your spine, but your mind is too preoccupied to come up with a teasing response. 

You sit in your normal spot on the couch, but instead of sitting at her office chair like she usually does, Agatha comes over and sits next to you. She watches your leg bounce nervously and wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer to her. You’re so nervous having this much contact with her that you can’t even look in her direction. 

“Tell me, baby. What’s so heavy on your mind today?”

“I’m just,” you sigh, feeling a tightness deep in your chest, threatening to explode and shatter your ribs into a million tiny pieces. And then you finally look up from your fidgeting hands, making eye contact with Agatha. 

You remember. You’re here. This is your safe spot. Agatha is here, and you’re safe with her. One look from her, and the tightness unravels, like a ball of tangled up yarn. She can patiently undo all of your knots and gently even you out again. 

Agatha is the only one who can.

“I’m afraid,” you finally blurt out, eyes darting away from her again. Agatha’s grip tightens on your shoulder, not in a threatening way, but to ground you. 

“Of what?” 

A beat of silence. 

You swear you can feel your heartbeat. It feels like it’s thrashing against your ribcage, even though you know that’s anatomically impossible. You take a deep breath. And with your exhale, your insecurities come spilling out. 

“Not being good enough. I’m afraid of not being good enough. And disappointing my friends. Enough so that they leave me. They all have better friends anyway. Why stick around with the one who bails out of every plan? The one who can’t even muster enough energy to watch a movie with them for some reason? But then I feel bad about it all, which is stupid, because I’m the one who bails. I don’t even know why I do it. They’ve been so good to me. They’re the reason I get to see you, and this has been one of the best things that’s happened to me,” you admit. “But I still keep pushing them away.” 

Agatha hums, thinking over what you’ve said. Her hand rubs your shoulder gently, and you want nothing more than to fully lean into her. But a voice in your head (which sounds a little too much like Monica) tells you not to. 

“Has this been a problem for a while?” 

“Kinda,” you shrug. “When I’m really overwhelmed with school I tend to shut down more. But it feels like it’s gotten worse lately. Which is really weird, because I feel like when I’m here, all my anxiety gets pushed away. Then it just comes back when I start trying to hang out with the others.” 

“Maybe we should focus more on the things that make you feel good, rather than what doesn’t,” Agatha suggests. You don’t look up at her again, but you nod. “You say you feel better when you’re here, right? We can have longer sessions, if you’d like.” 

“Maybe. It actually helped a lot when we talked outside of our appointments,” you admit. “But I don’t want to be constantly bothering--” 

“Sweetheart, you’re never a bother to me,” Agatha interrupts before you dare finish your sentence. “That’s why I’m here. I’d love to talk to you more outside of the office. Is there anything else that you can think of that helps?” 

“I...I’m not sure,” you whisper. “I’ve never been really good at the whole ‘self-care’ thing. I’d honestly prefer if there was just a way for someone else to do all that for me, y’know?” 

If you were looking at her, you would’ve been able to see Agatha’s eyes light up at what you said. Instead, you feel her hand touch your face, and she tilts your head so that you’re facing her again. You try to blink away the few tears that have formed against your will without her noticing, but of course she doesn’t miss it. Her thumbs wipe them away as they fall, and you tremble under her touch. 

“I think that I might have an idea that will work for you,” Agatha says. You furrow your eyebrows at her, silently asking for her to elaborate. “A way I can take care of you, when you can’t do it yourself. A distraction from all those noisy thoughts inside of your head.” 

“Oh,” you wrack your brain trying to figure out what she’s getting at. It sounds promising, though, being distracted from your anxiety long enough to clear your head. “Okay.” 

“Wonderful. Now, get on your knees.” 

Wait. 

“What?” 

“Do you trust me?” Her hand trails down from cradling your face to resting on your neck. You can feel her fingers twitching against your throat, like she’s trying to resist the urge to squeeze. 

“I don’t know,” you gulp. Fingers twitch against your throat again. Suddenly, those fleeting fantasies that you’ve failed to force out of your mind are much closer to reality than you ever imagined they would be. “I mean, I do trust you! I just don’t think this is something we’re allowed to do.” 

“I think I know the rules of this a bit better than you do, honey,” Agatha looks at the framed degrees on her wall pointedly. “Besides, this method worked wonders with Wanda.” 

“Really?” you pull away from her. You recall the way that Wanda mentioned how Agatha would text her and meet up with her the same way that she does with you. 

Was this Agatha’s endgame the whole time?

“Yep. You can ask her yourself, I’m sure she’d tell you how much she loved it,” Agatha winks. 

There are about a million thoughts running through your head right now. You know that it’s wrong. Hell, Agatha could lose her career for this, maybe even worse. But it’s also something that you’ve wanted since that first session. Maybe if it was just once, no harm would be done? But then, if someone like Monica found out, even one time could put you and Agatha in hot water. 

Every conflicting thought in your head is too loud, and you don’t even realize that your breathing has picked up. It’s all too loud, too much to think about. You can’t make this decision. 

As if she can read your mind, Agatha moves closer to you again, stroking your face and kissing your cheek softly. Your eyes flutter close at the tender contact, and you calm down enough to steady your breathing back to normal. 

The way your world centers again helps you finally realize that you don’t want to make this decision. You want - need - Agatha to choose for you. 

You look up at her pleadingly, fighting for the words to ask her to take control. Luckily, she understands, whispering praise as she guides you strip and kneel in front of the couch. Her hands glide teasingly over your body as she helps take your shirt and jeans off, leaving goosebumps in their wake. 

She won’t let you shy away from her either, leaving kisses and bites along your skin when you try to cover yourself as your clothes are tossed to the floor piece by piece. Once your underwear has come off, you finally kneel in the spot she’s told you to, and watch as she goes to her desk to get something. 

“You look so perfect on your knees for me, baby. I could keep you like this for hours,” Agatha says when she comes back into your vision. Your core aches for attention, only growing needier by the second. You whine at her proposition. She just laughs, sitting down on the couch again and patting your cheek. “Don’t worry, honey. I won’t do that to you today. Now, come sit in mommy’s lap.” 

You scramble to obey her, straddling her lap and waiting eagerly for your next instructions. Her fingers run through your folds, collecting the wetness that’s gathered there and teasing around your clit. You try not to grind against her hand, biting your lip to hold back a moan when she dips two fingertips into your eager cunt. 

“Ah ah, no,” Agatha scolds you. You frown, scrunching your face in confusion. She can’t resist kissing the tip of your nose before explaining, “Don’t hold back from me. I want to hear you.” 

“But what if someone catches us?” 

“That’s for me to worry about,” Agatha assures you. Her fingers push all the way into you, and you drop your head against her shoulder and groan into her neck. “All you have to worry about is being a good girl for me.” 

You nod and let yourself moan against Agatha’s skin as she starts pumping into you. Her fingers are so long and feel so good stretching your pussy. She starts curling them inside of you, and you can feel your thighs shaking when she picks up the pace. The dark purple sweater that she’s wearing feels soft in your fists as you hold onto her for dear life, like you’re afraid of being so overcome by pleasure that you evaporate. 

“God, look at you,” Agatha practically growls. Suddenly, your cunt is empty, and you can’t help whimpering. You watch as she brings her fingers to her mouth and sucks your juices off of them, cunt clenching when you hear her moan for the first time. “Shit, baby. I don’t know how I’m going to be able to resist you ever again after tasting that pussy.” 

“You don’t have to, mommy.” The title falls from your lips easily. Agatha’s hand that was steading your hips tightens, leaving little crescent shaped marks where her short nails dig into your skin. “I’m yours.” 

“Say it again,” Agatha orders, fingers diving back into your cunt. This time, she has three fingers buried inside of you, and you feel so full and so good that you’re almost tempted to ask for another finger. Before you can even think about it, you feel vibrations against your clit and practically scream from how good it feels. Agatha presses the vibrator harder against you as she fucks you with her fingers, repeating darkly, “Say it again, slut. Tell me who you belong to.” 

“You! I belong to you, Agatha.” 

“What about this pussy, hm?” 

“You own my pussy, mommy,” you moan as she ups the intensity of the vibrator. You know that you must be dripping now. You can hear how wet you are as Agatha thrusts into you, and you must be soaking Agatha’s pants, but she doesn’t seem to care. “You own all of me. I-I…” 

The words are lost in your throat as Agatha captures your lips, swallowing the moans that spill from your mouth. She barely pulls back, lips still grazing your own, as she asks, “What is it, baby? What do you need?” 

“Need to cum, mommy, please. I need it so bad,” you whine, completely lost in the haze of submission. The only thing that you can think about is Agatha and her fingers that are sending pleasure through your entire body. 

“Yes, baby. Come for me,” Agatha mumbles against your lips, kissing you again as she curls her fingers inside of you rapidly, pressing against the spot against your walls that you can never quite reach yourself. 

The orgasm that takes over your body erupts so suddenly that you have to cling to Agatha to stay upright. She yanks the vibrator away, but her fingers stay inside of you, pumping slowly still as your body shakes with your climax. Agatha groans at the way your walls clench her fingers, thinking of all the ways she can stretch you out later. 

As you come down from your high, your head feels so fuzzy that you only vaguely register Agatha removing her fingers. Your thighs are sticky, and there are beads of sweat running down your body, but you don’t care. Agatha doesn’t seem to either, pulling you so that you’re pressed almost completely against her while she cradles your head and strokes your hair. She coos praises in your ear, and it makes your entire being feel like it's floating among the clouds. 

“Thank you,” you finally mumble into her neck, voice hoarse from exhaustion. Agatha just kisses your temple and pulls you impossibly closer. 

“Of course, darling. You’re mine now, and I’m going to take such good care of you.” 

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness smut #agatha harkness imagine #marvel darkfics #darkfics #c: agatha #silver writes #fic #therapist!agatha

[samwisethewitch]

Communicating with Spirits

On this blog, we’ve talked about why witches might want to work with spirits, types of spirits they might work with, and the proper etiquette for establishing a relationship with a spirit. What we haven’t yet talked about is one of the most important, but sometimes most frustrating, elements of spirit work: communication.

There are several methods you can use to communicate with spirits, depending on your skills, preferences, and comfort level.

Signs and Synchronicity

The most organic way to receive messages from spirits is to wait for physical signs in your environment.

The concept of synchronicity was first introduced by Carl Jung. A synchronicity is a “meaningful coincidence” — a seemingly random event that feels meaningful to the individual. For example: crows have a lot of spiritual significance to me, and whenever I see or hear one it has a very specific meaning for me.

Another way a spirit might send you a sign is by surrounding you with physical reminders of them. I’ve most often experienced this with deities. If a new deity is reaching out to me, I’ll see images of them in places I wouldn’t expect to and may hear their name mentioned over and over again around me.

In her book The Angel Code, Chantel Lysette encourages readers to ask for physical signs when they connect with spirits, as a way to confirm that this is a genuine spiritual experience. This is something that has really stuck with me, and has become common practice in my spirit work. It can be very powerful to see signs in your mundane life that validate your spiritual experiences.

Divination

One easy way to communicate with spirits is to use your favorite divination method. (I’ve already done a whole post on divination, so I’m not going to spend much time on it here.) When using divination to communicate with a spirit, address your questions to them by name. From there, proceed as you normally would.

One thing to keep in mind when using divination to communicate with spirits is that the communication will be limited by the divination method you use. If you’re using a pendulum, you can only ask yes or no questions. If you’re using a tarot or oracle deck, the spirit will be limited to the cards in that deck when they’re trying to answer. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it is something to keep in mind.

Automatic Writing or Channeled Writing

This is a little bit different than other divination methods, because in this case you’re actually connecting directly with the spirit in order to write down messages from them. Automatic writing is the act of allowing your hand to write out a message without focusing on the words — the idea is that your hand will be guided by the spirits in order to write down their message for you. Some people believe that you should use your non-dominant hand for automatic writing, as this is your “receptive” hand. Channeled writing is the act of receiving a message through your psychic senses, which you then write down. Automatic writing is a type of channeling, but not all channeling is automatic writing.

I personally prefer channeled writing, simply because I find it more comfortable. Some witches prefer automatic writing because it bypasses your conscious mind, thus making it less likely that you’ll unknowingly “edit” the message. However, automatic writing can be a little bit harder to learn, so I’m going to focus on channeling here.

To channel a message from a spirit, you will need something to write with — a notebook and pen/pencil works, but so does a laptop with a word processor or even the notebook app on a smart phone. You will also need to enter a light trance state (this is the same state of consciousness experienced in meditation), so you might choose to use trance triggers like incense, shamanic drumming, or binaural beats. Begin by creating a protective space around yourself. (This is just to make sure only one spirit comes through at a time.) Invite the spirit you want to receive a message from into your space. Enter a trance and open yourself up to whatever it is they have to say. Don’t think about the words that come to you — simply write them down. You can analyze the message later, after your trance has ended.

Meditation

If you have a specific question you need an answer to, you can receive an answer to that question in a meditation. Likewise, if you want to connect with a certain spirit, you can do so through meditation.

This is fairly straightforward. Prepare for meditation in the way you normally do — light incense or candles and play music if you’d like, and make sure you have a comfortable place to sit or lay down. Before you begin to meditate, speak your intention out loud. This could be as simple as saying, “My intention for this meditation is to connect with [insert spirit’s name],” or “My intention for this meditation is to receive an answer from [insert spirit’s name] about [insert topic here],” or it could be an elaborate prayer.

From there, meditate as you normally would. Focus on the spirit you’re trying to connect with or, if you have a specific question, focus on that question. Whenever I do this, I often receive an answer in a sudden information download — suddenly the answer to my question is clear and obvious.

Pathworking

A pathworking is a specific type of meditation where you go on a psychic journey, usually with a specific goal in mind. I like to think of pathworking as the halfway point between meditation and astral travel. With pathworking, you are still anchored to your physical body, but your consciousness is able to make a journey into the astral world.

There are two important elements to a pathworking: a clear entrance/exit point and a way to retrace your steps. Pathworking journeys are typically cyclical — there is both a journey out and a return where you go back the way you came. This makes it easier to fully return your consciousness to your body, and failing to do so can cause you to feel disoriented upon the return.

A very common entrance/exit point is a door or gate which you use to enter and exit the astral realm. Sometimes it’s more of a home base — for example, my entry point is a rocky beach. I’ve also heard of people using a tree, or even The World Tree, as their entry point. Whatever imagery you choose, make sure you’re able to find your way back to it. If you’re worried about getting lost, author Thea Sabin recommends using “the Theseus trick.” Like in the myth of Theseus and the Minotaur, you can tie a golden thread or rope to your entry point and the other end to your astral body. If you get lost, you can follow the thread back.

If you want to try pathworking, make a rough “road map” of your journey beforehand. This doesn’t have to be super specific, but it should contain the following: a goal for the pathworking (such as to connect with a certain spirit), an entry/exit point, and a general idea for the route you’re going to take.

Astral Travel/Spirit Flight

Perhaps the most direct route, astral travel (also called “spirit flight,” “soul flight,” or “hedge riding”) involves sending your spirit or consciousness into the astral realm/spirit world. Astral travel is not a beginner technique. This method should only be used by witches who have experience with meditation, pathworking, and other altered states of consciousness. The major advantage of astral travel is that you’re visiting the spirits on their own turf, which means you can communicate with them much more clearly and directly.

I’ll talk about both pathworking and astral travel at length in my next post. In the meantime, know that it is an option but that I only recommend it for intermediate to experienced witches, and even then only after some serious research into how to do it safely.

Some Basic Precautions

No matter which method you use, here are some basic rules to keep you safe and comfortable during your communication.

Cleanse before you begin. The best way to make sure you’re talking to the spirit you want is to clear out any other nasties before you begin. There are lots of ways to cleanse your space, from incense to sound baths to sweeping with a ritual broom. Use your favorite method to energetically tidy up before you try to contact anybody.

Use protection. A few safety precautions never hurt anyone, and they’re a good idea if you’re going to attempt one of the more involved methods of communication, like channeled writing or astral travel. The salt circle is an oldie but a goodie — once you’ve set it up, only spirits you invite can enter the circle. (But please don’t sprinkle salt on the ground outdoors — this hurts plant life! Use another protective substance, like rosemary, to form the circle instead.)

Know who you’re talking to. It may not be in your best interest to chat it up with whoever presents themselves. Not every spirit has good intentions. I speak from experience when I say that opening the lines of communication to whoever is around is not the best idea. Be clear and specific with which spirits you invite into your space, and don’t open the door to spirits who make you uncomfortable. This is part of the reason that having an established relationship with spirits that you know and trust is important.

Don’t take things at face value. Something that doesn’t get brought up enough in the New Age community is the fact that spirits can and do lie. They can also be wrong, and may give you false information in good faith. Just because a spirit tells you something doesn’t make it true. Always do your own fact-checking outside of spirit work.

Don’t be the idiot in a horror movie. Use common sense when working with spirits. Use safety precautions (see previous notes about cleansing and protection). Don’t intentionally contact negative entities — don’t be that guy who buys a Ouija board so he can talk to Jack the Ripper’s ghost. If a spirit gives you bad vibes, tell them politely but firmly to leave. When in doubt ask yourself, “Would a character in a horror movie do this?” If the answer is yes, don’t do it. You’re smarter than that.

Resources:

The Angel Code by Chantel Lysette

Wicca for Beginners by Thea Sabin

Southern Cunning: Folkloric Witchcraft in the American South by Aaron Oberon

New World Witchery podcast (several episodes, including “Episode 164 — Irish Folklore and Magic,” “Episode 161 — Practicing Safe Hex,” and “Episode 152 — Honoring Ancestors”)

“My Goddesses: How and Why I Work with Mary and Hel” by Kelly-Ann Maddox

#baby witch bootcamp #baby witch #spirit work #spiritual #spirit #psychic #medium #mediumship #natural medium #seance #witchcraft #witch #witchblr #divination #meditation #synchronicity #automatic writing #channeled message #channeling #pathworking #astral travel #spirit flight #hedge riding #hedge witch #wicca #wiccan #pagan #paganism #christian witch #pagan witch

[lightrises]

"Only in allowing her to pass..." — Hornet, The Radiance, and the means by which Hallownest turned its victims against each other

A quick note: I read Hollow Knight as an anti-colonialist text. As such I'll be touching on topics related to colonialism as it's depicted in the world of the game, and said analysis will reflect both a sympathetic take on The Radiance and a critique of The Pale King that won't pull its punches. If this sounds up your alley, hello and thank you for the read! Let us be sad about these bugs together.

———

So!! A while back I realized something about pre-canon that felt rather... "curious" is one way to put it, I think. To wit: for all the effort and scheming and determination The Pale King poured into trying to get rid of The Radiance, neither of his plans involved directly killing her.

Was that his long game? Well, sure, that seems clear enough. His tack changed from luring the moths away from their god and creator to a more literal form of incarceration once the infection became a factor, but at its core the end goal never really changed—The Pale King very sincerely wished to destroy Radiance via obsolescence. The Seer lends us foreshadowing to confirm as much:

[Image descriptions: Two screenshots from Hollow Knight, showing the Seer and Ghost in the Seer's alcove at the Resting Grounds. Across both screenshots, the Seer tells Ghost the following: "None of us can live forever, and so we ask those who survive to remember us. Hold something in your mind and it lives on with you, but forget it and you seal it away forever. That is the only death that matters." End description.]

(Which, by the way and given the context, talk about an extremely unsubtle allusion to cultural genocide huh!!! Whew.)

In any case, we're left with a whole bunch of machinations which build up to... well, two very roundabout attempts at committing deicide. That's kind of weird, all things considered! Why not just do the deed in one fell swoop and get it over with?

This could be for any number of reasons. Maybe the king was devoid of the means to instantly kill another higher being. Maybe his personal sense of scruples stopped him short of signing off on MURDER murder (although, y'know, the aforementioned genocide + eternal imprisonment = still cool and copasectic apparently!). Maybe the long drawn-out cruelty was the point. Maybe the idea of playing fuckign 4D chess with the circumstances was too delicious for him to pass up—that man did love to tinker and stick his claws where they sure as hell didn't belong—or maybe it was a little bit of All The Things. Who knows!!

But interrogating The Pale King's methodology on this count isn't what I'm here for, at least not really. The main reason I raise this question at all is that in her own way, Hornet did too.

"I'd urge you to take that harder path... "

See, going by The Pale King's actions and what The White Lady explicitly says, they both foresaw two outcomes wrt the infection: it can be allowed to spread, or it can be contained. At Teacher's Archives, Quirrel acknowledges the fact that Ghost is expected to do... something about this, but he doesn't elaborate on what HE thinks that's supposed to be apart from the obvious "Gotta bust into Black Egg Temple first". Hornet is the one person who presents to us—to Ghost—what's framed as a third option: confront and destroy the infection at its source.

And she doesn't bring it up like it's just another tactic for Ghost to consider, prim and indifferent to what they would do. She nudges them towards it, actively, up to the point where she throws herself into the fray against Hollow at a juncture that's uniquely dangerous to her and her alone just to make that option feasible.

Even when she's couching it in disclaimers that this is still Ghost's decision to make (and let's be fair, she's extremely not wrong about that lol), no one can pretend Hornet is unbiased. It's obvious in that buttoned-down Hornet kind of way that she is way the hell done with the increasingly tenuous stalemate that's kept Hallownest's desiccated corpse from collapsing in on itself. Personally it's hard for me not to read some Toriel Undertale-esque "My father was too entrenched in his own foolishness to pursue any course of action that would have DEFINITIVELY ended this" shade into her stance here, regardless of whether that's strictly true in canon.

And that bit—Hornet's hopes for an end to Hallownest's stasis, moreover her grim calculation of what needs to be done to get there—that's the bit I find super interesting but likewise tragic and depressing as shit, on multiple levels. In no small part because a) canon itself gestures towards Hornet feeling conflicted about the very plan she's pushing, and moreover b) she has at least two (2) damn good reasons to feel that way.

So, what do I mean by that? Let's look here first:

[Image description: A screenshot from Hollow Knight, of Hornet and Ghost inside the Temple of the Black Egg, standing in front of the unsealed egg itself. Hornet has been struck by the Dream Nail and her dialogue is displayed as follows: "... Could it achieve that impossible thing? Should it?" End description.]

As the curtain is about to drop on things one way or another, Hornet thinks,

... Could it achieve that impossible thing? Should it?

Now, looking at that last bit it's easy to go "Oh no, Hornet's worried that Ghost won't survive killing The Radiance!" And I do think that's part of it: Hornet is, categorically, not her father. By endgame it's clear she's not content to view her Void-borne siblings as tools to be used then disposed of. She's also well aware that as a healthy autonomous Vessel amongst the countless dead, Ghost is the only person left alive who has a fighting chance against The Radiance. Knowing someone is the only qualified candidate for the job doesn't make encouraging them to embrace a probable death sentence any less of a bitter pill to swallow, though. And odds are on that this sentiment extends to Hollow too, who IS going to die no matter what happens here. To put it bluntly, it's more than reasonable to conclude that Hornet hates the absolute fuck out of this.

But I don't think that's all there is to it either. Remember what I said earlier about The Pale King's bids for genocide? Well, it's not like the man deigned to limit his efforts to just the moth tribe.

"We do not choose our mothers... "

On top of everything else—an infected Hallownest being all she's ever known, the fact that she only exists because of the infection, the list goes on—Hornet has spent her life wedged into a position that's been uncomfortable and terminally unglamorous at best: she is both a daughter of her father's kingdom and of Deepnest.

Deepnest, which like the moths and many others was here long before the wyrm and his lady wife swanned onto the scene and the God Become Bug laid claim to everything the Light touched plus a considerable amount of change. THAT Deepnest, which has fought claw and thread to retain its sovereignty against same-said settler king, and for which Herrah not only surrendered her life but also agreed to bed her worst enemy, all in hopes of securing a viable future for her people (put a pin in that last part by the way, I'll come back to it soon).

Two Worlds, One Family (Ft. An Indigenous Woman Trying Her Damndest To Work With What She's Got Versus An Imperialist Who Only Signed Up For This Because He Needed The Political Favor THAT Badly, So It's The Height Of Dysfunctional Actually). Fun times!!!!

The baggage this entails for Hornet is gnarly enough without implications made by The White Lady and the pre-canon timeline of events and even Team Cherry's dev notes that the king may well have looked at baby Hornet, gone "YOINK", then ensured she spent the lion's share of her childhood reared within the pearly auspices of his Pale Court*. That would be rather advantageous for Him Specifically after all, the potential to mold a born foe into a future ally and even have her trained in combat under the same tutelage as her doomed sibling. And far be it from him to stop a grown Hornet—his own flesh and blood too!—from making Deepnest her forever home if she so pleased. He totally wouldn't be reneging on his "fair bargain made" by doing this one simple thing until Hornet came of age, not t e c h nic c a l l y.

If that is indeed the case, there's a non-zero chance Hornet's formative years were a hot mess of cultural alienation and being a good deal more privy than most to just how much of a bastard her father could be. There's an equally non-zero chance that at some point she stood or sat within earshot as The Pale King finally, finally dropped all pretense and euphemism to name the Light for precisely what (for who) it was.

See, in conjunction with the question that started this whole dang train of thought I've been asking this one too: Does Hornet know? When she speaks of confronting "the heart of [the] infection" does she know she's talking about not just a literal person but someone very specific? The Radiance, who god though she may be shares skin in the game alongside Hornet as a native woman screwed over by the same settler king, likewise deprived of her kin and saddled with a life gone horrendously pear-shaped?

I'll assume for the sake of exploring the possibility and because I think it's a likely one anyway that yes, Hornet does know. She knows, and despite everything can't help empathizing. She might even look at Radiance and see bits and pieces both reflected and slightly inversed in her own mother: Radiance was forced to the sidelines while her people—her children, the brood she was meant to lead and care for—died out under The Pale King's rule, and it's no stretch to assume she's at least as upset about that as she has been about everything else; Herrah too took drastic measures for her people's sake, trying to head off annihilation by relegating herself to the sidelines in an act that was as much calculated risk as an attempt to find wiggle room and leverage in the face of a nasty proposition.

A calculated risk that, if things continue as they are, might well amount to nothing as the rest of Deepnest gets eaten alive by the infection. It survived The Pale King's advances for so so long, only to fall here. Herrah's sacrifice would be for naught; the other tribes—themselves the king's victims—would keep succumbing to the infection too.

And this is where things fall apart.

"... or the circumstance into which we are born."

Let's be clear: I think Hornet is wise enough to know what's what here, that all the carnage and suffering falls on her father's head for starting this slow-motion trainwreck in the first place. Hallownest wasn't always Hallownest. This domain was Radiance's home first, along with many others. It was the worm-turned-king who rolled up on the scene unsolicited and decided this was a ""'problem""" that had to be """solved""".

But the fact of the matter is that he's gone and The Radiance is here, raging, seemingly inconsolable. Above and beyond being Deepnest's rightful heir, Hornet isn't in a position to countenance more splash damage even if the grief and fury fueling it makes perfect sense. She can understand without ever bringing herself to love Radiance, and she can bend her knee to practicality even if she hates the everloving shit out of it because the fact that it "has" to end this way isn't fair.

This lends itself to one last awful conclusion: that Hornet has probably considered and (rightly or wrongly) discarded the possibility that Radiance can be saved, at least not without dragging more collateral along for the ride. If even her mother and every other enemy to the king seemed to dismiss talking Radiance down as an option way back when... well. Why should Hornet hope for any better after things have escalated so far?

Again, it's practical. A practical net good is what Hornet strives for. And again, it fucking sucks.

For extra tragedy points, this makes Hornet's extended crypticness around Ghost followed by her last minute casting about for a reason to tell them "Wait, don't; not just yet" that she never voices even more of a gut punch. She can't bring herself to burden Ghost with the context that haunts her so, least of all when it might weaken their resolve to go through with what (she thinks) needs doing.

It's the "same song, different verse" which led to the mantis tribe and Deepnest being pitted against each other: Hallownest rigged the game so that two women who could have been powerful allies—who have a mutual vested interest in driving out settler rule—wound up poised as enemies instead. And how awful is that? The king for all his being extremely fucking dead still gets the last laugh, because outside of a miracle the game never manifests Hornet can salvage what her mother started and look forward to a future where Deepnest pulls itself back from the brink if and only if The Radiance dies.

Resolution comes at the price of a completed genocide. Add two more dead siblings to the unconscionable pile thereof, while we're at it. That's what it boils down to whether or not Hornet can bear to articulate it as such, and there's no grace or even a properly bittersweet ending to wring from this clusterfuck. And that is rough.

———

* This has been better explained elsewhere, but a quick rundown: The White Lady tells Ghost that Hornet and Herrah "were permitted little time together." On its surface this can be taken to mean that Hornet was still very young when Herrah was shipped off to Eternal Dreamland—except this doesn't jive with the fact that we meet Hornet as an adult. If the stasis kicked in once the Dreamers went to their rest, which in turn halted the aging process for every living bug in Hallownest, AND before all this Hornet experienced little by the way of quality time with her birth mother... I think you can see where I'm going with this.

To top it off we've got Team Cherry weighing in ominously from their dev notes on Herrah: "As part of the agreement for her alliance and her role as a dreamer, King gave her a child (Hornet). Was she allowed to keep this child or was she taken away?" This isn't confirmation by itself of course, but given additional canon details (see above): Can I get a "yikes" in the chat fellas.

#hollow knight #hornet (hollow knight) #hornet hollow knight #hk hornet #the radiance #hk radiance #herrah #hk herrah #hollow knight meta #sup folks it's been a minute since i dropped a whole dang essay but Here We Go!!!!!!

[lvlyhao]

『wayv’s ideal type』

headcanons, WayV

A/N: i love yangyang. send tweet.

today’s theme is... um... none. no braincells for an aesthetic

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE GENDER NEUTRAL AAAA

𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓻𝓮𝓼: fluff (♡)...?

𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: i think like 2 swear words and as usual, my tough love for the neos. don’t be offended.

word count: 1.6K

pairing: wayv members x reader (includes kun, ten, winwin, lucas, hendery, xiaojun, yangyang)

disclaimer: the characters in the story below do not reflect real people or present real facts. this is purely fictional, and you may not copy, change, translate or repost my work in any way. all rights reserved © cherry-hyejin 2021.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Kun

Kun, similarly to Taeil, would most likely fall for someone very mature and responsible. My dude is already the father of 7 children (I'm counting Chenle); the last thing he needs is one more. 

Very closely related to that is what I think would be another of his priorities: whoever they are and however they are, they've got to get along with the rest of WayV—but it's even better if NCT as a whole likes them. As much as he'd love his s/o, I can't say that if it ever came down to choosing them or his members, he'd pick his partner. The guys are his family and a BIG part of his work, which takes over most of his life, so there's really no escaping it. Befriend the boys or bye-bye.

Once the boys approve of his crush, I think his interest would grow if they've got many pastimes or hobbies. I mean, c'mon, Kun can fly a plane on the same day as he sings his lungs out on Inkigayo and then goes home to cook some fancy-ass dinner. He doesn't need them to be on his level, though. Small, silly passions are the ones the loves the most. He'd listen to them talk about ANYTHING for like 3 hours straight, even if it's why their favourite type of constrictors are pythons. No, that is totally not about me. Shut up.

Ten

Y'all remember that one WayV live where a fan asks for dating advice? Yes, I'm taking a lot from it. If you've seen it, it's not hard to come to the conclusion that Ten likes honest and straightforward people. He values himself way too much to lose his time with someone who's playing games, making him chase them and things of the sort. It's simple, really. If you like him, great, he'll give you the stars if you ask, but if not, great too, he'll live.

I can see that either he'd get with a person as extra as him or someone on Jaehyun's level of unbothered. Not many options here. You either become his partner in crime and bring hell on Earth with him, or you accept it well. Just don't be judgy or ask him to tone it down. That's the way he is, so why should he, you know?

Speaking of that, AUTHENTICITY, FOLKS. Being authentic is a big deal here. Ten is very true to himself and is always encouraging us to be, as well. Anyone he even considers dating will be nothing short of unique and unapologetically so. Being confident is just so attractive for him, I can't even—and yes, even if they're a bit strange. His partner might be a weirdo, but they're HIS weirdo, and he'll fight anyone that disagrees.

Winwin

I think while other members might fall for someone as bright as the Sun, he'd love a person as calming as the Moon. You know that aesthetic? The gentleness, introspectiveness, wisdom, the tranquillity... yeah, fam. That's it for my boy Winwin.

Allow me to elaborate: all of those traits would make him very comfortable with the thought of being in a relationship. I can see Sicheng as having some trust issues, aside from not being very touchy or loud when it comes to affection. Having that peaceful aura would really help him grow closer to his partner because he knows they'll be patient with him and respect his boundaries.

He wouldn't mind if they're more on the talkative side, but he needs a person that can appreciate silence too. Something I see a lot for him is having loud thoughts that are hard to get rid of. Dating him would mean having nights when he's tired out of his mind and just doesn't have the strength to talk. His partner will have to understand that and stay by his side until his inner world is a bit less chaotic, just holding his hand and letting him take his time. I think allowing him to have his space and peace in the relationship is how he feels loved the most. 

Lucas

Yukhei would not mind one bit having a more childish, carefree partner. He's a big baby, c'mon, being around another baby would probably make him the happiest. I also think he meant it when he said he doesn't care about age (that one V-Live from years ago). Younger than him, older than him, my boy doesn't give a fuck. He really just wants someone to be silly with and smile a lot.

Having said that, I really can't see anything pushing him away from getting to know someone. Lucas is very lighthearted and loves people, so I think he'd have his fun getting to know anyone—and tbh, he would be hooked if they're a bit mysterious too. His interest would probably get the best of him, and he wouldn't stop whining about it to the other boys until he learns something about them. Very random, yes, but I can 100% see him complaining to WayV during dinner, LMAO.

One thing he wouldn't enjoy too much? A partner that can't take compliments or doesn't like being spoiled. Yukhei's affection is LOUD, and he really thrives off praise, cute pet names and giving gifts. He'd most likely be heartbroken if he finds out they don't like any of it, almost like they're shutting down his love itself.

Xiaojun

Ah, my dear Dejun. The middle child of WayV. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, just look up "Xiaojun's middle child problems" on YouTube and go from there.  If you don't feel like it, lemme break it down to you: he's an angel, but the boys mostly accuse him of everything and anything and will throw him under the bus for fun. It's very entertaining. At this point, my boy doesn't have a fight or flight response; more like fight or fight (shhhh, I'll get into the headcanon now).

I think since he's used to being so defensive around his members, he'd appreciate a person that makes him feel both understood and safe. They'd share similar tastes (mint-choco ice cream, cough cough) and interests, but they'd most likely have a fiercer presence than him. Kind of intimidating, tbh. Very nice. I can definitely see that his partner wouldn't let WayV's chaos get to them and would, undoubtedly, be as much of a savage as the boys are.

He'd probably like it if they (playfully) fight his members and defend him from whatever-the-fuck they're blaming him for atm, so, yes, a bit protective. I think Dejun would simply find it cute and admirable, you know, their braveness. Would 10/10 brag about it when they're alone.

Hendery

Kunhang is the ultimate crackhead, but a sweet one at that. Being a Libra (yes, I'm going there), I think he can actually be very sentimental around the people he trusts the most and needs to feel like he belongs. That leads me to point 1: his partner would also be a crackhead. That's REALLY not up for debate. Kunhang wouldn't even think about dating someone that's not as much of a weirdo as he is. 

Point 2: he probably wouldn't like to be with a person that's too vain or superficial, whether that goes towards others or themselves. He's said before he hopes the fans can see him as more than a pretty face, and I can imagine that goes for his s/o too. He'd simply not feel connected to someone who's always dolled up or dressed to impress. Would definitely prefer a more casual style and personality.

I guess point 3 is kinda random, but it makes sense to me, so here we go. Kunhang would really like someone who's just in love with human nature. For him, it's the tiniest things: the way they laugh, how they drink their tea, which side of the bed they'd prefer... it all adds up to a person, and I think he'd feel over the Moon to be with someone who sees the same things as him. Comment on a small habit of his he thinks no one else would notice, and I swear he's yours.

Yangyang

He is a spoiled brat, and I say that with all the love in the world. We've all heard WayV say how he basically tries to exploit them (mainly Hyung-line) at every opportunity he gets, which makes me think Yangyang might be a bit lazy, yes, but also that he'd do great with someone whose love language is acts of service.

Now, I'm not saying he'd tyrannize them or anything of the sort, but things would work very well if that is how his partner expresses their love. They wouldn't mind fetching him a drink, cooking something—or ordering out, if they can't... you know, stuff like that. It would make him feel very validated and cared for. I see that, for him, that's the ultimate type of devotion.

The last thing I can imagine he'd consider is whether they can take his teasing and antics or not. Yangyang's affection is really not shown through super heartfelt, sugar-coated moments; quite the opposite, actually. If he feels happy around someone, his way of showing it is that playful banter, insults and teasing, you know? He really wouldn't know what to do if the person takes everything he says to heart, like—Yangyang.exe has stopped working. So, yeah. A thick skin and elastic heart are a great combo for my boy.

Bonus: he'd lowkey cry if they get super hyped with his work as an artist. PLEASE praise his dancing, rapping, visuals and all. I don't think many people do, and even if he denies it, the compliments make him all fuzzy inside. #appreciateyangyang2021, he's underrated af.

---

final notes: head empty, no thoughts, just 90′s love yangyang

#qian kun #nct ten #dong sicheng #winwin #lucas wong #wong yukhei #xiaojun #xiao dejun #hendery #wong kunhang #yangyang #liu yangyang #wayv kun #kun x reader #wayv ten #superm ten #ten x reader #nct winwin #wayv winwin #winwin x reader #nct kun #nct lucas #wayv lucas #superm lucas #lucas x reader #nct xiaojun #wayv xiaojun #xiaojun x reader #wayv hendery #nct hendery

[darkpoisonouslove]

Please dont hate me.

Griffin and Valtor and all the questions. :)

Okay, but just because you asked nicely... Kidding, of course. XD I don’t hate you. I just hope any of this will make sense.

1. Who is the most affectionate?

Valtor, actually. It takes Griffin a while until she can fall into being cuddly with someone but she is surprised by how open Valtor is to physical proximity. He’s also the one that is more about compliments.

2. Big spoon/Little spoon?

Valtor is normally the big spoon which Griffin was a bit irate about at first because she is a lighter sleeper and, therefore, more likely to be getting up or moving around. She thought it would make more sense for her to be the big spoon but Valtor wanted to be the one holding her and she relented. She actually liked it a lot more than she expected to even if it took some getting used to.

3. Most common argument?

Bathroom dominion. They. Just. Cannot. Reason. About. It. They both take forever when getting ready and it is hell. Especially if they are going undercover to an official event. You do not want to be around.

4. Favorite non-sexual activity?

Playing chess. They can’t help it. They are competitive and love messing with each other which is done through an array of side bets and whatnot. But they have a good time. Mostly.

5. Who is most likely to carry the other?

Valtor. He is dramatic romantic like that. Griffin pretends to be annoyed by it... badly. She totally loves it. Even if it does make her think about things that might be impossible.

6. What is their favorite feature of their partner’s?

I feel like I might have answered that somewhere so excuse any mismatches in case I don’t remember my own headcanons.

(I am pretty sure I said Griffin’s favorite thing about Valtor is his voice but that is not a feature so I guess the inconsistencies have been prevented on merit of that alone.) Griffin might be a little fixated on Valtor’s hands bc of the fact that he only really takes his gloves off with her (and his skin is super soft). Also, the contrast between the destruction he can wreak with his magic and the tenderness of his touch on her skin.

I also think that I said Valtor’s favorite part of Griffin is her neck. Does that count as a feature? Well, it does now. He loves how delicate and sensitive her neck is. Griffin can’t pull him away from there when he starts kissing it, and biting it because it’s Valtor. He loves to leave marks there and listen to the sounds she makes while he’s doing it.

7. What’s the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?

Valtor experiences selflessness for the first time. Or what is a weird mix of selflessness and selfishness because he does not necessarily expect anything in return when he does what is best for her but he still hopes that that will help their relationship develop. He’s not at all sure how to react to it. All he knows is that making her smile makes his day even if he has to endure some more bitching from his mothers because of what he did for Griffin.

What actually changes for Griffin is that she finally allows herself sexual fantasies about Valtor. She had noticed his attractiveness before but she wasn’t interested in getting involved with him. However, after they started getting to know each other and some emotional barriers got down, she found herself growing fonder of him. By the time she realized she liked him, pretty much everything else had changed.

8. Nicknames? & if so, how did they originate?

Valtor does call her bookworm which is pretty obvious and generic. But other than that they don’t really have nicknames for each other.

9. Who worries the most?

They both worry. A lot. Griffin worries more openly, though, while Valtor will pretend he’s not worried but will keep looking for excuses to be close to her and touching her.

10. Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?

Griffin. Valtor tries his best but he has so many things on his head. He is in awe of how Griffin always manages to remember everything. She claims it is because she isn’t forced to do it but chooses to do so on her own.

11. Who tops?

Usually Valtor but that’s because Griffin lets him. He is happy to bottom if she feels like it even if the first time he might have needed a little convincing. He was grateful for having the insight to leave her in charge.

12. Who initiates kisses?

Valtor does that a lot. He will use any and all opportunities. Hell, even if the time is not right, he would still do it. He loves to kiss her and Griffin has learned that. She has no problem with it as long as it isn’t a really inopportune time.

13. Who reaches for the other’s hand first?

Valtor. He likes holding her closer, even if it is just her hand in his. Besides, he is busy a big portion of the time and can’t do it so he needs to compensate for that whenever he has the opportunity.

14. Who kisses the hardest?

Griffin has surprised him. And here he thought he was passionate. Griffin has it in her to surpass him. Not always but she does kiss very hard when she gets really into it.

15. Who wakes up first?

Griffin. She is the early bird. She is generally more excited about getting started on her day. Valtor isn’t too happy about having to bust himself because of his mothers yet again.

16. Who wants to stay in bed just a little longer?

Valtor. He could sleep all day if he had the free time for that kind of thing. It is honestly kind of a dream. Especially if Griffin is also there. He can feel her presence even when he’s asleep and it always makes everything better,

17. Who says I love you first?

Griffin does. Not because Valtor is scared to tell her how he feels (even though he is that too). He just doesn’t want to pressure her into saying it back if she isn’t ready (or doesn’t feel the same). He is kinda torn on whether he is actually being selfless or too scared to even admit that he is selfishly waiting for her to make the first move but considering the fact that she seems more secure in their relationship, he decides to trust his own motives.

18. Who leaves little notes in the other’s lunch? (Bonus: what does it usually say?)

That would be Griffin. It is probably something only Valtor will get that is sure to cheer him up despite it most likely being sassy/sarcastic.

19. Who tells their family/friends about their relationship first?

Griffin by virtue of Valtor not wanting to say anything and not being given the chance either. His mothers just know. Even though he would’ve liked to have kept it a secret. That’s not an option in the world in which he lives. Griffin does tell her mom even if she has cut contact with her friends.

20. What do their family/friends think of their relationship?

Valtor’s mothers aren’t enchanted by the idea but they allow it on condition it won’t get in the way of Griffin and Valtor’s work. They pretty much use it as a way to pressure Valtor into doing even more than before. Emalyn isn’t thrilled either. Though, to be fair, she wasn’t thrilled by Griffin joining the Coven at all. She can see that Griffin is happy which is what makes her keep her thoughts to herself but she is worried about everything that can go wrong, including what will happen if Griffin and Valtor break up. She is worried Griffin may not be safe in that case.

21. Who is more likely to start dancing with the other?

Griffin would. Valtor will try to protest before he realizes that they are just swaying around and he isn’t expected to perform some elaborate ceremonial dances. He relaxes and lets her drag him fully into it, They have a great time.

22. Who cooks more/who is better at cooking?

Griffin, obviously. She does make use of Valtor’s Dragon Fire but that is the way in which he can be more useful in the kitchen aside from tasting whatever she’s cooked. He isn’t all that great despite being sensitive to smells and tastes.

23. Who comes up with cheesy pick up lines?

Valtor all the way. He does not know when to stop. Luckily, Griffin finds him adorable which might be why he hasn’t collided with the finish line yet.

24. Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear during inappropriate times?

Both of them do it, actually. They both know when the situation needs their full focus but they are also not above messing with each other. And of course, that requires revenge which results in more revenge and they just end up stuck in a loop. Not that they are complaining about it. Not really.

25. Who needs more assurance?

Valtor. Griffin can see how much she means to him once they actually get together and open up to each other. Valtor has a lot of insecurities, though, despite his confident facade and can always use some more reassurance even if everything is okay at the moment.

26. What would be their theme song?

As a couple? Young God by Halsey. It just fits them so well! Though, that is more a commentary on their full story during the war. If it is something they would pick in-verse, then idk. Maybe Powerful by Major Lazer and Ellie Goulding.

27. Who would sing their child back to sleep?

They would both do it together. Griffin would have to teach Valtor all the lullabies he knows but he’d make sure to learn them.

28. What do they do when they’re away from each other?

 Valtor forces himself to keep going about his day. He doesn’t have the time to sit around and wait for her return anyway. And work keeps him occupied but the moment he has an ounce of free time, his thoughts immediately drift to her.

Griffin tries working as well or reading a book but sometimes that’s not enough and she finds herself wondering how he’s doing and even worrying. She might go on a mission herself to keep herself occupied - pick out some herbs or hunt down a recipe she’s never come across before.

29. One headcanon about this OTP that breaks your heart

All of them. Seriously, everything I come up with about them is heartbreaking. But here goes. The only thing Valtor doesn’t know about Griffin (prior to the seventeen years he was imprisoned) is that she was pregnant when she ran away from the Coven.

30. One headcanon about this OTP that mends it

I... am not sure I have any of these. I just love angst and heartbreak. Idk how well this fits but... Valtor did eventually come to appreciate the fact that Griffin was the only one who ever loved him. Even if she did leave. He can see how different their relations were from anything else he’s ever had with anyone and it did make him realize that she did truly love him despite everything.

#winx club #winx griffin #winx valtor #griffin x valtor #covenshipping #winx headcanons #ask #trashcankitty12

[theflashdriver]

Faux (A fake dating Silvaze Fic)

Here’s a little something I wrote to promote Silvaze Week 2020. It starts on September 27th, for more information please go see the Silvaze Week twitter! This story uses the oblivious prompt and is over 11,000 words wrong!

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“I still don’t think I get it, Blaze. If nothing’s changing, what’re you asking me to actually do?” Silver the hedgehog said, sat at the foot royal bed. A book was sprawled open in his lap, but his attention was fully focused on the princess.

Blaze the cat was supposed to be working at her desk. The sun was well on its way to setting yet papers were still stacked high before her; agreements to endorse and budgets to look over and constructions to sign off on, it was nothing too out of the ordinary. Rather than tending to those though, she’d turned her chair to discuss a more personal matter and project with her closest companion. She’d thought it would be easy to explain but, in hindsight, the plan she’d propose was nothing like their usual fair. It didn’t help matters that neither of them had any experience in this department. Well, as far as she knew, he didn’t.

“I’m proposing that you say and pretend that you’re my boyfriend, Silver. That’s really all there is to it,” She instructed, using as simple and plain terms as possible, “I’ll do the same for you and we’ll go on a date tomorrow,” She caught the flexing of his brow and elaborated further, “A fake date, of course, just something small, we could visit the beach for a picnic lunch?

“Right,” He nodded but confusion still twisted his face, “But I’ve never actually been a boyfriend before, how will I know what to do?” It didn’t surprise Blaze that he was willing to go along with this, but it did surprise her that, of all the first questions, he’d landed on that. Not why they were going through this in the first place, just what he was supposed to do; it was very like him, but it still managed to catch her off-guard.

“I’ve not been a girlfriend, we’re both going into this blind and I think that’s what’ll make the ruse more believable,” She answered, “Honestly, I don’t think you’ll have to do anything different. If anything, I’ll have to be a little more forward.”

“More forward?” His head gently tilted, and his eyes squinted; her phrasing was throwing him off. Perhaps she wasn’t being clear with him.

“We’re both new to this but I think it’s clear that I understand this potential task better than you. While I have not been in a relationship, those around me have,” Blaze elaborated, “That means I’ll have to take the lead, initiate bolder actions that’ll suggest to the public that we’re an actual couple; that we’re not just partners.”

Then again, that’d hardly be difficult. Silver was perfect for this plan because, frankly, that nature of their partnership was nebulous. They’d been mistaken for a couple more times than she could count. When Silver had first arrived in the Sol Dimension and her public had observed a total stranger hugging, laughing with and being doted on by the princess, rumours and gossip had quickly sailed to inform all corners of her kingdom. She’d never acknowledged that hearsay, denying a rumour only spread it further, but now she was going to use it to her advantage; she was going to turn that gossip on its head.

His ears were still slightly folded and, though it had faded, befuddlement lingered in his eyes and on his brow. The why was almost as important as the action itself, his curious nature would surely gnaw away at him and she wasn’t opposed to explaining. It was just a wordy and rather sad story, ideally the cliff notes alone would suffice.

“I know it’s all a little strange but my birthday’s only a couple of months away and I’m starting to worry,” Blaze began to explain, “When my mother turned eighteen, she started to get letters from suitors. People she’d never met wrote to her and asked for her hand in marriage. They were rich and powerful people, important to her kingdom but, equally, they were people she hardly even knew let alone loved,” The cogs in Silver’s head were turning, his fist tightened at what he surely thought and injustice, but Blaze thought it best to tell a more complete tale, “She was afraid to turn any of them down for fear of worsening her professional relationships but, atop that issue, she had already fallen in love with my father; she had a secret boyfriend. When that information became public those letters stopped arriving, but a few families felt as though they’d been led on and public relations worsened. Many of them refused to speak with her for several years, some won’t even speak to me.”

“What? People cut her off because she didn’t marry them, even though they didn’t even know her? Of course she didn’t want to marry them, why would she want to marry someone she doesn’t know?” Silver was aghast, she couldn’t help but smile at his innocence and the sense of justice behind it, “That’s awful! Did they just want to be in charge?”

“Yes,” Blaze affirmed, “They didn’t love her; they just wanted the royal name, be it to further their brands or grow their pride. A lot of parents wrote in on behalf of their children, many either much too old or much too young, offering them up to further the family’s social status.”

“So, you want to avoid all that by making them think you already have a boyfriend? That way, they won’t send any letters in the first place and won’t have anything to be angry about?” The hedgehog surmised. His stare was still galvanised by the tale of her mother.

“If you wouldn’t mind being that person Silver, yes,” Having made that request twice now, feeling a pang of guilt, Blaze hesitated, “I wouldn’t trust anyone else to do this, but I know it’s a lot to ask. It’ll take up time and, obviously, stop you having this kind of relationship with anyone else. If you’re uncomfortable then we don’t have to, I don’t want to impose-

“If it’ll make you feel more comfortable, I’m willing to do anything, Blaze. I’ve never dated anyone before, but I’ll do my best to do it right,” Before she could finish, he’d bounded from his seated position and let his book tumble to the floor. He’d flown forward and taken her by the shoulders. When the hedgehog agreed to something, no matter how small, he made it his duty to see it through. She should have known that he’d want to see this through, “Starting tomorrow we’ll tell people that we’re dating. It can’t be that hard!”

The hedgehog had never quite understood personal space, his forehead was practically against hers and it’d only take a small push for their noses to collide. Blaze rolled her eyes, reaching up and returning his hold, “Thank you, Silver. Really, you have no idea how much more comfortable this will make me. I’ve been worrying about it for months now, weighing my options.”

“I just hope I can play the part well enough to convince everyone,” He awkwardly smiled, failing to mask his concern, “I’ve never had to act before, let alone trick people.”

“I doubt you’ll even have to act, just be yourself, you’re a very…” She searched for the perfect word, “Passionate person. When your mind is set on doing something, you invest in it so deeply; I’m sure that’ll come through and it’ll be more than enough,” Concern faded from his eyes, just a little, “But, like I said, I’ll take the lead. If I don’t think we’re being convincing enough, I’ll make a move.”

“Do you want me to do anything to help prepare? What about tomorrow’s date?” He asked, already trying to help even more, “I’ve got stuff back at the hut, I could easily put together a picnic if we do want to do a beach date?”

“I think that would be perfect, Silver,” She admitted, having intended to imply that was what she wanted later. Though he claimed to love her cooking, she had a far more rational palette, “This should be the last weekend before the weather turns, it’s already getting too cold for beach going. The crowds shouldn’t be huge but hopefully we’ll be visible enough that the word will spread itself.”

“We can go around the rock pools, walk along the beach and look for shells,” A new idea popped into his mind, his eyes lit up, “O-Or we could just relax if you prefer? Take a few books to read, maybe even get ice cream and…” Silver seemed to catch himself, his eyes began to lower, “I’m sorry, I’m trying to plan all this out. I want to help you Blaze; you should be free to choose who you want to love; you shouldn’t have to do this in the first place.”

He wanted to make things right, of course he did. The princess found herself shifting just a little closer as her grasp on him grew just a little tighter. Silver’s strong sense of justice didn’t have as many opportunities to shine through in this dimension, the world’s state of relative peace contributed to that, but it was a part of him she adored seeing. He was willing to put himself through so much and try so hard, she didn’t think he was romantically interested in anyone but even still; he was willing to put future romances on hold just so she could be comfortable.

“It’ll be easy, Silver. Don’t think of this like a date, think of it as one of our usual outings; like stargazing or visiting the crystal caves, it’s nothing out of the ordinary. We’ll do whatever comes naturally. All you need to do is stay by my side and be how you always are, all that’s changing is how we refer to each other,” Despite her reinforcement, his gaze drifted further from hers. She reached across and pushed his chin, turning him to face her. The worry seemed to vanish from his bright yellow eyes, “Just act natural, it’ll be fine. I’ll do the heavy lifting; it was my idea after all.”

“I’ll do my best,” As he promised, their heads came to touch. The contact seemed to invigorate him, “I’ll be the best boyfriend I can be! You don’t have to carry all the weight; I’ll handle it!”

Her smile only grew as she pushed against his contact, “You’re so naïve…”

----

Whittling the evening away, talking and toying with Silver, proved to be foolish. By the time he’d left, midnight was mere minutes away and a good two hours’ work still lay upon her desk. Coffee had helped her through it all but, unfortunately, it’d also scared away sleep for an additional hour at least. By the time she’d finally drifted off, it couldn’t have been far from four.

The princess awoke just after nine, her head made heavy and ears brought to curl by the incessant blaring of her alarm clock. Groggily rising, stretching cricks from her body, Blaze managed to stumble the path from her bed into her en suite. Warm water and morning rituals washed away much of her morning daze, though a small pain continued gnawing just behind her forehead. She supposed it was her own fault for leaving so much undone, but it surely wouldn’t make today any easier.

This proved to be true as the princess entered her walk-in wardrobe only to find herself befuddled. She’d already chosen an outfit for today, the same outfit she usually wore (her long sleeved tabard and tights, her standard guardian-wear), but, for whatever reason, it wasn’t appealing to her. Something about it didn’t seem right for today, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

Though she didn’t fight her gut intuition, Blaze told herself that it was the fault of nerves and a want to be more convincing more than anything. After all, the public had seen her dressed like that and with him a good few dozen times. Rather than take the garb at the front of her closet, she pressed herself to take a few steps deeper inside. Her stomach fizzed at the sight of jeans, dresses and other casual wear. She’d never intended to wear most of these articles, but they’d gathered here regardless of her want.

Most of her alternate outfits were gifts sent from fashion designers and clothing chains, dropped on her in the foolish hope that the princess would act as their living advertisement. She’d learned as a youth that it was wiser to wait a year and donate them rather than simply send them back, it was just another way she managed to avoid sour responses. Still, as she found herself near the back of her closet, none of those gifted items called out to her. One ensemble was singing to her, both loudly and clearly, but it had a far more embarrassing origin.

When Amy Rose set her mind to something, it was difficult to stop her. During one of her brief excursions to the other world, the young hedgehog had dragged the older feline away to pick out some summer clothes. Blaze had successfully rejected most of Amy’s recommendations but one of them had managed to pierce her armour, early into the outing Blaze had been caught off guard by a certain garb and the hedgehog had built upon it.

She pulled the hanger free and its scary splendour was fully revealed to her. It was an amber sundress, the fabric littered with inconsistent clusters of white lilies. Once Amy had pushed her into a changing room, the pink blur had rushed off to gather some matching accessories. An amber scrunchie to replace her usual red ring, a set of saltwater sandals and a pair of white rimmed sunglasses had been shoved beneath the changing room curtain before Blaze was even half changed.

This outfit would play into their charade incredibly well, Blaze knew how much a change in garb could do, but her stomach was doing backflips. She knew she was overreacting, when she’d tried it on for the first time she hadn’t felt like this, but that knowledge did nothing to curtain her errant emotions. It was only after she donned the full outfit the Blaze realised why she felt quite so tense. Utilising the full-length mirror attached to the closet’s outer door, Blaze found that her reflection’s cheeks had turned scarlet. The dress was pretty, undeniably pretty, and the lower five sixths of it were fine… but…

The dress hung from her shoulder on two, rather thin, fabric straps. The white fur of her underbelly wasn’t quite visible but, this dress exposed her shoulders, her arms and almost the entirety of her collar. Everything else about it was perfect but those straps were just too thin for her liking and the neckline was just a little too deep. Perhaps it was made for someone with a different body shape?

Why was she wasting so much time on this? For whatever reason she wanted to wear this dress but, simultaneously, couldn’t overcome its collar. Blaze knew that if she’d just force herself to wear her usual attire this’d be over with already but something about this just felt… right for today. She was worried about fully convincing her public, perhaps this change really was needed.

Eventually, she managed to come to a compromise. She decided to wear the amber sundress, and all the additions Amy had piled upon her, but don her swimsuit beneath. It was a plain, dark purple, one-piece leotard intended for sport rather than casual use. Fortunately, the dress was baggy enough to hide the under-outfit but its straps were too thick to be covered by those of the dress. Well, it didn’t alter the outfit and it did immediately make her feel a lot more comfortable. It wasn’t uncommon for people to wear swimsuits under their beachgoing clothes, was it? Settled, she managed to finally leave her room and, having snatched a banana for breakfast on the go, made her way out the front doors of the palace.

Immediately, the arrival of sunlight forced her to don her sunglasses. They were supposed to be in autumn but, even despite her pyrokinetic nature, Blaze could feel the heat. It wasn’t even muggy; the day was dry, and the sky was totally clear, it was as though a summer day had been transplanted later into the year. That would complicate things a little, she assumed. It was better this than it being rainy, but the beach would probably be a little better stocked than she’d assumed last night. This was a Saturday too…

Regardless, it’d take more than a new garb and a little sun to stop her. Silver was waiting, everything was prepared, their late-night planning couldn’t go to waste!

----

The uproar on the beach wasn’t just a little louder than she’d anticipated, it was much louder. She’d arrived outside Marine’s driftwood-hut, a good hundred or so metres from the sands, but the princess could hear the sounds of families shouting and playing… so many families. She’d hesitated at the doorstep, that noise and all it implied had managed to paralyse the powerful pyrokinetic. A few eyes she could handle, she’d given hundreds of speeches, but this was different. Blaze told herself that she could endure the stares, but would he be okay with this?

She hadn’t known the hedgehog to get stage fright, but this was new ground for both of them. If she didn’t know how she’d handle this, what chance did she have of guessing how he would? Well, then again, she’d watched him more than she’d watched herself. They probably had a better idea of how the other would react than themselves. Hopefully, ideally, he’d be too focused on their task to notice anyone else.

Mustering all of her courage, the princess brought her knuckle to rap against the door. Her thoughts on the hedgehog’s state were split into two distinct pieces. The first was that he’d try his best to lie and put on a front, following her lead, but, ultimately, his inability to lie convincingly would make today more than a little silly. Perhaps that was for the better, maybe that’d make her feel more relaxed.

Alternatively, it was entirely possible that his obliviousness in regard to romance would make this incredibly easy. He’d play along blissfully unaware of what he was actually doing, entirely comfortable in his position. Try as she might; Blaze struggled to picture Silver being romantic, let alone in a relationship. He’d been through so much, both with her and without her, that ideas of who he’d want to be with, let alone what he’d want to do with another person, assumedly hadn’t arrived in his mind. He almost seemed too selfless for love, too focused on other things.

Blaze supposed she hadn’t really pondered it until recently, whether he actually had an interest in romance. Just before she’d proposed this plan, she’d considered it and come to a similar conclusion but now, for whatever reason, that questioning refused to abate. Was he actually interested in romance? Who would he even be interested in? Were it not for her discordant mind, she’d be far more comfortable making assumptions about his position. Something about this morning was simply off, working too late must have been taking its toll.

The feline, so lost in a world of her own, almost fell backwards as the door flew open. Marine the Raccoon, garbed in her usual green dress and wearing a ludicrously knowing grin, had reared her head in Silver’s place. It was as though she’d been up and waiting for this moment for hours.

“Picked out some nifty duds, didn’t ya? Strewth, I don’t think I’ve ever even seen them. You’re lookin’ for your fella, aren’t ya?” Her smirk seemed to grow evermore with every passing second. Before Blaze could even offer up an answer, the raccoon had turned her back, “Silver! Your Sheila’s here! How could you just leave her out on the doorstep, some boyfriend you are, are you even up? Oi, mate? Mate…?” She toddled back inside, leaving Blaze’s eyes to roll in the sailor’s wake.

Marine had been more than a little insistent that the pair were together long before this plan had been hatched. She’d undoubtedly been overjoyed to hear the false news from Silver, she’d probably been the first person it’d spread to. When the truth eventually came out, she’d probably be a little disappointed but, surely, she’d be old enough by then to understand the princess’ position.

That was a thought, how long were they going to keep this up? Months perhaps, but years? She supposed they’d have to, the moment they admitted to the contrary she’d likely be bombarded with letters and gifts. Well, they didn’t have to, but she couldn’t see herself finding a reason to stop. No one really appealed to her but if Silver ever wanted out, she’d let him out. If he met someone or-

“Oh, Blaze! You’re here!” Just as her mind had refocused on Silver, she heard the hedgehog approaching from behind. She turned to look over her shoulder and his smile almost knocked Blaze from her feet, “Sorry I’m late, I had something to pick up in town. I hope you didn’t have to wait too long?”

Something about him was different today… well, many things looked different. Like her, the hedgehog was wearing casual attire, but it was an outfit she recognised all too well. She’d bought it for one of his birthdays, when she’d noticed him outgrowing much of the wardrobe he’d been gifted upon his arrival to this dimension. It was a basic but well-fitting garb she’d picked out because she’d thought it’d suit him and, well, today it especially seemed to. He was wearing a button up, short-sleeved, teal and navy shirt with a set of long navy shorts. In place of his typical boots, Silver had donned a thicker set of walking sandals, almost intended for hiking. Naturally, his cuffs and anklets had to remain so she’d chosen colours that wouldn’t clash with his aura or gold.

The psychic had worn the outfit quite a few times, though only on occasions he seemed to consider important. For as plain as they were, the hedgehog was very much making them work. They let him look relaxed, as she always liked him to be now that he was safely away from the future, without looking untidy. She hadn’t noticed that the outfit rather… accentuated a distracting feature of his. His quills were pulled back into a messy ponytail, an attempt to avoid battle with the sea breeze, but the edge of his chest fluff had managed to breach his shirt. Hiding some of his fluffiness only drew her eyes to what little remained. She blamed her choice in neckline for that latter issue.

There was something else though, something deeper than fabric that was drawing her attention; causing some strange quaking in her gut. She told herself that it was just grogginess, that she was just being silly, but even as her eyes broke from his form, the hedgehog’s visage lingered in her mind. Blaze supposed she just hadn’t seen him dressed in them for a while, the hedgehog liked to wear clothes but his outfits were usually more ragtag; tempest tossed quills, a hoodie pulled over his bare shoulders, dirty boots and crumpled trousers. He’d made an effort for her and… well…

It’d paid off. Try as Blaze might; she couldn’t deny it, he wasn’t exactly unpleasant to look at. But then, why were her eyes locked onto the ground?

“He was up half the night putting everything together; the clothes, the food…” Marine listed from the corner of the feline’s eye, “I’m glad you both finally came to your senses, I always knew he’d make the perfect boyfriend for you.”

For whatever reason, those words had stoked something within Blaze. The wriggling within her stomach longed to go on the offensive and chastise Marine but, being such a foolish feeling, the princess knew it would do neither her nor them any good. Instead, she simply brought her toes to curl and fists to ball. When the hedgehog arrived at the doorstep, the scent of sweet goods hit her nose and further drew her attention.

“Marine, could you get everything I made last night? There should be a little basket on the kitchen counter,” Rather immediately, the little sailor scampered off to do what he asked, “So, are we still doing this?

“Y-Yes,” Her response was quick, but that stutter wasn’t a result of speed. She swallowed, “As long as you’re still okay going through with this, I’m okay.”

“I feel the same. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. This is still a little strange to me but then it must be for you too. We can do this, I’m sure of it,” He hesitated for a moment, blinking at her slightly, “I don’t think I’ve seen this outfit before. You look really pretty!”

Her face went from red to boiling, he clearly had no idea what he was doing to her. Well, to be frank, she had no idea what he was doing to her either. She scrambled for a reply, “Y-You look nice too,” Was that arrogant to say? She had bought him that outfit after all.

As she looked up to him- no, as she realised that their difference in height forced her to look up to him, the wriggling and jostling in her stomach exploded into two dozen angry butterflies. Something about him today, the way his eyes met hers and his shoulders seemed broader, was holding her full attention. It was as though she hadn’t seen him in a while, no… it was more like she hadn’t looked at him in a while. He was surely still the naïve hedgehog she knew, but Silver had grown. He looked far more mature than Blaze recalled even last night. What had changed beyond her clothes? She supposed they had fake titles for each other now? But why would that-

“Blaze?” A shock ran from the top of her shoulders to the tip of her tail, bringing it to dance and curl around her waist, “Are you alright? You were staring…” He reached up, rubbing at his muzzle, “Do I have something on my face?”

“N-No Silver,” The princess practically choked on her stutter, she tore her gaze from him again, “I just didn’t get much sleep last night, I was too busy… planning all this. It was a lot of work.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” He cringed slightly, “I would have stayed and helped if you’d said.”

“I-It’s fine, don’t worry about it. What’s done is done,” She was usually better at lying but, for whatever reason, today was proving to be an exception to all of her norms.

He didn’t look entirely convinced but Marine had returned, he gently stuffed his current bag into the she’d retrieved basket, “What’s the plan then? Are we still heading for the beach?”

“It does seem a little busy,” Blaze mused, trying to resign his worry to the business of the beach, “Perhaps we could keep to the cliff face, the near edge. That way we won’t be getting in anyone’s way and their attention should be towards the water.”

“That seems like a great idea, that way we’ll be seen but not too seen,” He enthusiastically nodded, “The cliff should keep our picnic in the shade too, it’ll be perfect!”

The excitement in his voice sent a wave of heat up her face to tip her ears, as her temperature rose the hedgehog’s gaze overwhelmed her; Blaze’s stare fell to the ground. Only three words managed to slip beyond her lips, “Y-You’re so naïve.”

With an awkward wave goodbye to Marine the two finally set off towards the beach, walking together as faux boyfriend and girlfriend for the first time.

----

The beach was just as busy as it had sounded; children were running wild, frolicking in and out of the water with reckless abandon. Beach towel after beach towel littered the sand, slovenly forms comfortably spread across each and every one of them. They’d stuck to their plan, keeping to the far side of the beach and walking alongside the great cliff edge that shaded it; passing into and out of its shadow based upon the warping of bluffs.

Talk had been, admittedly, sparser than usual. He had made attempts to start conversations, but her mouth had been rather useless today. Speaking seemed to further the heat on her face and strip her tongue of its rationality, resulting in stuttering. Thus, she’d kept replies brief; a handful of words at best, awkward nods and headshakes at worst. If she was walking with anyone else, they’d surely think she was being rude. At least with Silver, he’d been around long enough that walking quietly was normalised. Still, given the nature of this current outing, she couldn’t help but assume he was either worried or confused.

Blaze was a good half pace behind him, rending her stare from the sand to throw him a look every so often. Since their arrival on the beach, she’d kept her sunglasses firmly covering her eyes; both to partially obscure where she was looking and hide some of her panic. Unfortunately, they weren’t doing much to prevent her embarrassment.

Their difference in height was really throwing her off, the feline felt like she should have been walking on her tiptoes to better match him. Had it really been so long since she’d worn flats? Had the difference between their heights grown so great without her even noticing? The Silver she saw in her mind’s eye was sweet and insecure, she could hardly even identify him as anything beyond his name; he was simply Silver, her partner, a person she could trust above all others. Looking at him now it was… it was as though she was actually seeing him as a man and that was, somehow, far more embarrassing than being dressed as she was. She’d probably find it easier to publicly admit that they were together than spend five minutes eye to eye with him, something had changed; he wasn’t the same cute, naïve, hedgehog she’d once known.

Well, he was still naïve, and he was undeniably cute; just not in the way she recalled it, not in a way she could bring herself to describe internally let alone audibly. How had he gone from the amorphous, fluffy, form she pictured in her mind’s eye, to this in only one night? What had changed? It couldn’t just be his clothes. It was so fascinating and yet so hard to dwell upon.

As he turned to look at her, Blaze’s gaze darted towards the waters and stumbled between the people watching them. There weren’t too many gazes on them, at least not consistently. A few people were whispering, and an elderly pair were throwing some kind of stare their way but most of the public seemed squarely focused on their time at the beach.

“Blaze?” His words drew her stare back to him, there was concern in his eyes.

She couldn’t muster a word in response, only an acknowledging hum. Her tongue was weighed, if she spoke then she’d surely stutter. How long would this feeling last?

“Is everything okay? Am I doing this right?” He’d slowed and taken a step closer, her eyes dropped to meet what little chest fur was free before darting up to meet his eye again. At this distance, she had no idea if he could make out where she was looking, “You’ve been very quiet. I thought we were supposed to be making a scene, drawing attention to us being together.”

“O-Oh,“ She gulped, ballistic at herself for swallowing, “I’m not entirely certain how we’d go about that. I think we’re drawing enough stares as it is, it’s probably fine...”

“Is this making you uncomfortable? Is it too much?” He fumbled with the picnic basket, switching it into his right hand as he looked past her and to the beach, “We can swap places if you want, that way they’d be looking at me instead.”

Despite this feeling in her gut, Silver was still Silver. If he thought he could do anything to help, even the slightest thing, he’d offer it without hesitation. She didn’t have the heart to tell him he was wrong, let alone that she was being bombarded by feelings she couldn’t explain, “Thank you, Silver.”

He shifted to her outer side, acting as a barrier between her and the stares, but part of the endeavour caused her heart to skip a beat. Once he’d arrived on that side, Silver had slipped his left hand into her right. She almost stumbled and he quickly looked back at her, very clearly confused. This kind of contact was regular for them, whenever the other was troubled the other would take their hand or wrap an arm around their shoulder; last night even, he’d held her by the shoulders and she’d casually returned that grasp. They’d held hands thousands of times, more than she could ever hope to count but, today, this afternoon, there was something almost electrifying about that contact.

He was staring, waiting for some kind of response, but her tongue would surely fail her again. She had to make up for its lack of fluidity.

Bluntly, boldly, she brought her fingers to lock between his and squeezed his hand tight; forcing herself into the leading position, she spoke without turning back to him, “L-Lets find somewhere quieter to eat. I’m starving.”

Her cheeks were on fire, she locked her eyes on the path ahead but no matter how she charged or tried to distract herself; Blaze’s embarrassment refused to shift. A lack of sleep had never done anything like this to her, at least not before today. Was that all this was? Tiredness and the stupor brought on by it? It had to be, nothing else made sense.

He’d caught up, matching her quickened pace to walk beside her, “Somewhere quieter, okay, um…”

Silver cast his eyes to the beach and Blaze’s stare followed, it seemed that their shift in pace had caused them to draw more attention. Rather than one or two older couples, a larger group of multiple families seemed to have noticed them. That, or word had simply spread up the beach and the world had finally noticed them together; dressed differently and holding hands, more than likely on a date. She slowed her pace again, turning to the cliff face. She’d had an idea, born of his recommendation of picnicking in the cliff’s shade. It was a stupid thought, so very stupid, but she knew somewhere more private. People might still see them, people could still reach them, but it’d perhaps make her feel more comfortable long term… even if it was bound to make her less comfortable in the short term and draw many more eyes.

“What about up there? We’d be away from the beach itself, but it’d be a little more private. I think we’d still be seen enough,” She suggested, gesturing up the cliff face, “They’d see you carrying me up there, perhaps that’s enough of a sign that we’re...”

He came to a stop, glancing up the cliff’s edge before quickly turning to the beach behind them, “Are you sure you’d be comfortable with that?”

Blaze knew what he was implying. Not only would this draw more eyes to them initially, but it involved scaling to a height that, while not ludicrous, was a little beyond what he knew her to be comfortable with. The concern in his eyes was so genuine…

“I know you won’t drop me, Silver. I trust you,” She squeezed his hand again, “Just, please, make it quick but not too quick.”

He managed a nod, his worry quelled, and slipped his hand from hers to shift the picnic basket further up his arm. Without blinking or flinching, he turned and put his right hand to her back while crouching and lowering his left arm for her to swing her legs up and across. While she’d focused on his concern her embarrassment had faded. Now, the heat had returned.

This was how he usually lifted her, it was more comfortable to lie in his grasp than to cling to him as he flew, but, due to her addled and tired mind, she was having further thoughts. Usually she’d have stepped up without flinching, she’d allow her head to fall against his shoulder and focus solely on his face until they reached their destination. They’d make conversation, he’d distract her from the distance between them and the ground. Today however, that seemed more difficult. Her tiredness couldn’t be responsible for that. Was it because she was wearing a dress?

Briefly catching his eye again, Blaze rapidly neatened her clothes a little. As she finally brought her legs over his arm, she tried to keep herself decent. It was stupid, the skirt of her dress was long, but it didn’t do anything to dispel the heat on her face. Her head still found his shoulder and, although she’d been looking up at him all day, at least this was a more familiar view.

“Are you ready?” He made sure, she felt his grasp tighten just above her knee and around her shoulders. Something about that contact, contact she’d experienced hundreds of times, coupled with the view energised the butterflies in her stomach.

She forced her gaze to roll from him and to the rock wall in front of them, “Yes.”

Cyan light crept into her vision and weightlessness set in. Her choice to focus on the wall didn’t serve her well. While it was better than looking down, she could tell that they were rising and with each passing second the ground drifted further away. They weren’t going slowly, but Silver was making sure to keep things stable; ergo, their pace wasn’t as fast as she knew he could fly, or he’d even normally fly with her.

As his concern for her was made manifest and the shifting rockface began to make her queasy, the princess couldn’t help but return to her normal position. Historically, her cheek would be cushioned by the edge of his chest fluff but now his shirt was in the way. Why did she miss that comfort?

Her shifting brought his attention back to her; those piercing yellow eyes were upon her again. Without so much as thinking, she stuttered out; “Sh-Shouldn’t you be watching the sky?”

He responded to her request immediately, shifting to look upwards, so he didn’t catch her grimacing at her own stupidity. Her gaze lowered slightly, and she ended up staring at what little of his fluff was visible. Despite his endeavour to look presentable, a few tufts were out of place. If she was feeling more regular, she might have seen reason to undo its tugs and neaten him. As things were though, Blaze could only stare.

Though he stopped ascending when he reached the green grass that topped the cliff, he didn’t quite put her down. Instead, the hedgehog flew just a little more inland so that she wouldn’t have to see the worst of the height; they touched down a good twenty paces from the edge. He gently set her down, dipping her legs and allowing her to step free from his hold. The grass wasn’t exactly thin up here, they were a little off the beaten trail, but it seemed like a fine spot for a picnic. The tide was out, so they could see where the beach met the waves, and to their backs was a lush palm tree forest. They would only be visible to those close to the water’s edge and out at sea. More eyes were on them for the moment than had been before, a few kids had run up the beach to watch their flight, but she knew they would drift with time. In the long run, this was better.

“Here seems pretty perfect for a picnic,” He commented, taking in their surroundings, “This was a great idea Blaze!”

“I suppose it will do,” Blaze tried to underplay her decision, unwilling to claim praise for what was an impulse decision rather than a planned one, “Let’s just relax for a while, away from so many prying eyes, and return to our walk later.”

The princess wasn’t sure if she was instructing him or herself.

With a nod, Silver reached into the hamper and drew out a large plaid picnic blanket. Without so much as blinking, he tossed it into the air and caught it with his psychic aura; completely flattening it and holding it in the air. He slowly lowered it with a single glowing hand, the long grass beneath the blanket was made to bend down flat, free to pop up whenever the cover was removed but smoothed for their sitting. That done, he dropped to the ground and dug through the basket. First revealed was a flask and two tin mugs, next a reasonably sized plastic container and, finally, a smaller white paper bag that was, assumedly, the reason he’d been late to meet her

Everything set out, he caught Blaze in the midst of staring. Rather quickly, the feline dropped down to sit with him; positioning herself on the other side of their bounty. The lid was popped free from the container and steam rose from its depths. Six pastry parcels, surely too much for the pair of them to eat, were revealed, perfectly browned and sealed along their top.

“They’ve got prawn and salmon in them with a cream sauce and some vegetables,” He quickly explained, offering her the box.

She knew his taste; this was more for her than it was for him. Without so much as hesitating, she picked up one and took a bite. They’d managed to maintain their heat in the box, she’d known that by sight and touch, but the taste managed to fully draw her attention. The blending of flavours was perfect, the sauce didn’t overwhelm the fish and the fish didn’t overwhelm the sauce; the prawns were just small enough not to manifest in large chunks.

He’d been about to reach for the box himself only for a realisation to strike him, “I’m supposed to be being the best boyfriend I can, r-right, okay…” With a wave of his hand, the flask and tin cups were pulled toward him. He poured her a cup of tea, gesturing again to hover napkins, a small sugar-jar and a spoon from the basket. Once he’d presented her the mug, he unwrapped and opened the white paper bag. Inside was a small assortment of muffins and fairy cakes, “I would have baked us a cake, but we were a little too short notice. I hope that’s okay…”

She took the jar, adding two teaspoonfuls of sugar to her brew, “Silver, this is more than okay. I was expecting sandwiches or something small, not all this. How long did you stay up last night?”

Somehow, unlike the stares or most of today’s endeavour, that managed to prompt a bashful response from the hedgehog. His cheeks lit pink as he claimed a pasty of his own, “It took a couple of tries to get them perfect, but It wasn’t too long. I got up a few hours earlier rather than staying up late, I just wish I’d had a little more time.”

“Don’t be silly, I only planned the walk while you did so much; even though this was all my idea,” She passed him back the jar as he poured the flask.

He added far more sugar to his cup, the blush had spread from his muzzle to his ears, “But this is just what we normally do. If we’re pretending to be boyfriend and girlfriend, shouldn’t I be doing more?”

Having something to eat, as well as seeing his blush, seemed to reduce her own embarrassment, “This isn’t about actually embodying those roles so much as just making others think we are. You don’t have to go to extra effort like that, you do more than enough by just being you. A lot of people already debate whether we are a couple,” She managed to smile, blowing her tea to cool it, “All we need to do are the public things, the more blatant things. Go out together, hold hands and hug in public, those kinds of things. Don’t worry too much about the little details.”

“I’ll try not to, but I promised to do this right,” He affirmed as she took a sip. Despite his flush still lingering, he gave a proclamation, “I’m going to do my best, I’m going to be the best boyfriend possible!”

“Y-You’re so naïve,” She pretended to sigh and grumble, turning her attention towards the meal.

He’d probably said that both to renew his promise to her and to bolster himself for the coming task. Just as she’d begun to overcome her embarrassment, he’d managed to stoke it again. Despite that fact and despite the renewed heat on her face, Blaze flicked her sunglasses up. She couldn’t keep hiding forever and brewing thoughts were becoming too much to contain.

He wasn’t wrong to have done all this, and Blaze knew she should be showing more gratitude, but the feline’s state was making that impossible. The hedgehog had also led her to think on an interesting aspect of their plan; just what should they be doing, what would convince the public and what were they willing to do? Were there lines she wanted to draw and what lines would he like to draw? A certain concept, a thought, fluttered up to reach her brain that Blaze couldn’t help pondering. There was no easy way of broaching it though. Two questions were gnawing at the back of her head, a thought that was relevant to this concept, but she wasn’t willing to entertain.

Was she willing to kiss him, and would he be willing to kiss her? If they did kiss among the public, that was all the proof they’d ever need.

Last night she would have said yes to that question without hesitation. If it meant completing their ruse, she’d be more than willing. But as these feelings spiralled both in her head and through her gut, Blaze couldn’t help but squirm. She threw Silver a quick glance only to find him entirely focused on his meal, being up so early and going to the bakery had perhaps caused him to miss breakfast. He was willing to go so far for her, could she plant her lips on his for her own sake?

For a split second, her eyes drifted to her muzzle only to be torn away and thrown to the plaid blanket beneath them. She wouldn’t have been opposed to it before, so she supposed she wasn’t now, just a lot more nervous about it. If they did it, it’d only have to be a peck; nothing too scandalous, something small. Blaze had chosen him to play this role for a reason, she trusted him and was willing to do things with him that she wasn’t comfortable doing with others. She could see herself doing it, embarrassment aside, but what about him?

Silver was like her; he’d never been in a relationship before. While she’d accept him as her first kiss, would she be his? Would he want her to be his? Well, she’d brought up not knowing how to draw stares before. Perhaps she could ask through that? Now that the concept was in her head, Blaze wanted to know if there were any boundaries between them; was he saving certain things for someone else? As he reached for his next pasty, she took a deep breath and made a move.

“Well,” It was going to be roundabout, but she had to prompt this discussion somehow, “Is there anything you think would make it more obvious that we’re a couple? Something quick and easy, anything we can do to get the message across. I was up last night considering options but couldn’t come up with a concrete solution.”

“We already do most of the things couples do, right? We hug, we hold hands and we visit all kinds of places together,” He pondered aloud, tugging at what little exposed chest fur he had as he thought, “I guess there’s other stuff we can do; like writing each other love letters, wearing clothes that match or just telling others how much we’re in love. More blunt stuff,” Silver managed to answer, “I think that’s what couples do. You know, they kiss and stuff; give people some kind of undeniable sign.”

What he thought couples did; he’d phrased it so innocently but implied so much. He’d hit the nail on the head, brought up the very object of her curiosity. He’d been so casual, did that mean he was willing to do it?!

“R-Right, yes, th-they…” Her stuttering came to a head, her tongue was useless; she should have taken a moment and considered her words.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Blaze? You’ve been kind of red all day,” He, so helpfully, informed her.

“Yes, don’t worry, I’m fine,” She waved him off, almost pulling down her shades but catching herself before she could, “I’ve probably just caught a cold, they’re common at this time of year.”

That’d surely worried him, her brain was going a mile a minute. Blaze knew he’d never been in a relationship, but that didn’t mean his heart wasn’t set on someone. She didn’t know who they could be, a fact that made her want to assume that there was nobody, but a larger chunk of herself wanted to be sure.

“Silver,” She was fighting to keep a straight face, attempting to hold back her stutter merely forced Blaze to pause and hold her breath, “Have you ever actually…” She knew it was better to be blunt, best to keep things simple, but it was the most embarrassing way to ask, “Kissed anyone before?”

“No,” His reply was immediate, he didn’t even blink!

“Oh,” He looked confused at her response, “I-It’s just that, most people think first kisses are important. I wouldn’t want to take something like that from you. By having you pretend to be my boyfriend, I feel like I’m already asking a lot,” She was blabbering, not asking what she really wanted. Her fists clenched, “I-I wasn’t sure if you’d be okay with kissing me or…”

“Blaze,” He crawled closer, their knees almost came to touch, “You’re my partner. I agreed to do this because I want to help you, you’re not asking anything of me. I decided to do this, it’s not like you’re forcing me.”

“It’s still…” She wrestled with herself. There was only one way to reach her desired answer; to ask her desired question, “Is there anyone you’d want to be that first kiss?”

“Well, people only kiss those they’re close to, right? Specifically, the person they’re closest to and want to stay with…” He defined, clearly deep in thought but trying to relax her at the same time, “I’m not an expert on it or anything, but that’s how it always seems in books. I don’t really know a lot about this dating stuff, just what I’ve heard from Amy really.”

The mention of Amy immediately explained a lot of things; his change in garb, the holding of her hand and this picnic. Though they’d only met a handful of times, across both this and their past life, the pink hedgehog overabundant love for Sonic made sense as an informant to Silver’s understanding. She was though, admittedly, a terrifying informant.

Swallowing, she nodded, “Yes, that’s not how it always is but that’s how people romanticise it, Silver. If there was someone you wanted to kiss, that should be someone you care about in a way that’s different to how you care for everyone else.”

“Well, the person I’m closest to is you, Blaze. I don’t think I could ever share the kind of bond we have with anyone else,” That feeling was undeniably mutual, she knew where this was going but he wasn’t done talking. She felt the butterflies squirm in her stomach, “So, if I was going to kiss anyone, I guess I’d want to kiss you.”

Her heart skipped beats and she couldn’t help but shift, he’d called out her blushing before but now it was surely worse. He’d used such simple and honest words, the likes of which she had no defence against. His heart was on his sleeve, she couldn’t deny its existence; there was no front, there was no lie.

“Just, promise me you’ll say if that changes,” She insisted, taking on a sterner tone in an attempt to smother her slurring, “If, for whatever reason, you either don’t feel the same about us or you meet someone or… whatever it is, just promise you’ll say.”

“I don’t think that will ever happen…” She couldn’t help but frown at that. His eyes softened, her concern had gotten through to him, “If that happens then I’ll say, but I’ll still help you in whatever other ways I can. You’re my best friend and I want you to be happy.”

“Good,” She managed to huff, “A-And thank you.”

A moment passed. While he’d smiled at her response, after another sip of tea and a few bites, confusion crossed his brow and he dared to ask, “Blaze, have you ever kissed anyone?”

“No, I haven’t really considered…” Well, she had no more than a moment ago. She’d worried about whether he’d be okay with her kissing him, albeit to further their ruse. With that exception though; “I’ve never even thought about it. I worried so much that it’d be a suitor that I never considered who I’d rather k-kiss instead.”

She longed to snuff her stutter, but an immediate shift in Silver’s demeanour caught her off guard. His brow hardened and he’d set down his food, shifting closer still to put his hand atop hers, he said, “Well, now you will be able to think about that without worrying. You’re amazing, whoever you chose will be so lucky; after all, they get to be the closest person to you.”

He was just being protective, being a good friend and bearing his sense of justice, but the combination of his honesty and physical touch sent her senses into further disarray. She couldn’t meet his eye and, for what felt like hours, she couldn’t bring herself to speak. Part of her was screaming to admit, as he had, that Silver was the only person she’d truly consider kissing but another part kept promising Blaze that saying so would lead to ruination. He’d ask more questions, or he’d ask if they should kiss or something else naïve yet heartfelt.

“I-I only asked because…” Her tail was dragging across the ground without her consent, “If this goes on for too long, people might expect us to kiss. I’m glad you’re okay with that.”

“If you’re okay with it then I’m okay with it,” He swore, squeezing her hand, “First kisses are supposed to be important but, I guess, since we’re not actually together, it wouldn’t count if we kissed? So, you don’t have to worry about that.”

The way that was worded, it was almost an invitation to kiss him whenever she felt like it. While it didn’t outright state it, it implied that they could essentially practice using each other. Somewhat stunned, Blaze could only manage a meagre, “S-Sure, I guess so.”

“If you ever think we should, just say and we can!” He promised, as though it were the most normal thing in the world.

Thoughts and emotions bubbled and boiled; his hand was still in hers, had he even noticed? The butterflies had never settled in her stomach, but their vigour seemed to have been renewed. What was wrong with today, what was wrong with her today? Ever since she’d woken up, something had been off. Everything they’d done so far was regular for them, they’d regularly visit the beach and picnic, let alone hold hands and talk.

“Oh, huh,” The engine of her heart skipped a beat, bringing her train of thought to a ludicrously quick stop. What could possibly fall from his mouth next? “We’ve got the same hair now.”

The most bizarre concoction of relief, embarrassment and anguish flared across Blaze’s face. Her muzzle was cast in scarlet, but not the burning red of before, “Yes, I suppose that’s true,” Pushing herself, to speak more quickly proved unwise. Rather than complementing the change, her blush led her to chastise him, “You should take better care of your quills. I-If you kept them like this, they wouldn’t get into such a mess.”

Despite her rudeness he continued to smile at her and enjoy the meal, “They’re getting a little too long again,” He admitted, trying to look over his shoulder at those fluffy extremities, “Maybe I should cut them more properly.”

Despite her initial outburst, this conversation was a relaxing breath of fresh air compared to their last one. Drawing her tea to her lips, she tried to talk from her heart rather than her flushed face, “I wouldn’t clip them too short, just short enough that they’re easier to manage. I could do it tomorrow if you’d like?”

“That’d be great! We can try to have a more relaxed day,” He immediately grinned, but a realisation overtook him, “Wait, would that be our second date? Or would we just be doing that as friends?”

“It can be whatever we want it to be,” She practically blurted out before quickly realising what that implied, “I-It’ll be in private though, so we hardly have to call it a date. Perhaps, if someone asks about your quills, then we’ll say it was, but we can actually treat it like a normal day.”

“Alright, that’ll work!” He practically cheered, finally releasing her hand and drawing out another pastry from the box.

She took that opportunity to change her grasp, holding her teacup in both hands. Despite her pyrokinesis and the mug’s heat, her hand felt substantially colder without his touch. This grogginess was playing games with her senses now, what could be next?

She managed to turn her attention towards the picnic spread, quickly reaching down and claiming another pasty. It was only as she did that, that Blaze realised why he’d brought up their matching ponytails. He’d mentioned matching clothes before, clearly implying the likes of matching shirts and wedding rings, but their current hairstyles were a way they matched. While she didn’t think it made them look more like a couple, he had planned this out even more than she thought.

Attempting to distract herself, she began to eat the baked good and tried her hardest to focus upon its creamy flavour. Despite how delicious it was, it was not enough. Blaze found herself dwelling upon the shift in how she viewed their relationship; the change she had undergone but he hadn’t. She’d done all this to avoid marrying a suitor, but who did she want to take the place of a suitor? She’d convinced herself that this was for long term convenience, that it would give her the chance to find someone, but, the truth was, she hadn’t planned to look. She hadn’t considered where to start, let alone where to find someone she trusted as much as Silver. She couldn’t see herself being closer to anyone than she was to him; their bond had lasted beyond her death and into this next life, they’d survived the unsurvivable together. Who could even come close to filling his role?

She’d never considered her endeavours with Silver to be romantic, it was simply how they were with each other, but some combination of their lifted burdens, their actions’ current context and time had freed this realisation from her subconscious. Time was surely an important factor, in their last life things hadn’t had the opportunity to blossom this far; they hadn’t had the chance to grow both physically, as individuals, and as a pair. This time though, not only had they been in a more comfortable position for growth but they’d both learned what life was like without the other; they understood what that loss felt like. Not to mention, they were newly adults now; they’d aged further than that last life. No wonder she was embarrassed, she’d asked the only person she’d consider dating to pretend to go out with her.

She didn’t think she’d change much physically, but Silver had undeniably grown while she hadn’t been paying attention. The most obvious changes were physical, he’d grown taller and his shoulders had broadened, but there’d surely been internal shifts that Blaze couldn’t quite discern. Silver was still very naïve, his heart was attached to his sleeve and he’d shown his want for justice throughout the whole endeavour, but his living in a more peaceful world had led him to acquire hobbies and interests. She was seeing him at his best, better than he’d ever been. Many of his skills, his interests too, either matched or complemented hers.

Having finished the pasty just as her thoughts concluded, Blaze threw him another glance. He was fairly focused on the coast, absentmindedly making headway on a third pasty. Following his gaze, she found that his eyes had landed upon a flock of migrating birds; a sign of the coming Winter. This would be their last chance to walk the beach comfortably for at least three months. She should have been making the most of this.

She reached into the bakery bag, drawing out a muffin before pushing the bag his way, “Come on, let’s hurry and head down again.”

----

Unfortunately, despite now understanding her state, Blaze found herself no better equipped to combat her embarrassment. Talk was less scant than it had been last time, Blaze was trying her best, but she still wasn’t comfortable with this sudden upwelling of understanding. She’d stutter and stammer, catch herself staring, tear her eyes from him and, occasionally, chastise him when her embarrassment became too much to bear. It wasn’t perfect, but at least they were talking this time.

Still, she was managing to walk hand in hand with him. The hedgehog himself, seemingly in response to her slightly calmer demeanour, had shed most of his worry. He’d panic, just a little whenever she told him off too harshly, but he was certainly smiling more now. They were almost walking shoulder to shoulder, Silver on the water’s side, approaching the rockier far edge of the beach; where sand gave way to low crags, a prime site for rock pools. Of course, as a result of that, this part of the beach was particularly swamped. Many families with younger children were searching for the likes of hermit crabs and trying to make memories.

As they reached the shift in ground, Silver came to a halt. Before she could even fully turn to him, his hand had slipped from hers; both his left palm and right were suddenly on her shoulders. Her eyes collided with his and a pair of stern brows. The concern that she’d just thought abolished had returned in an instant, bringing her prior embarrassment with it.

“Is this going to be okay? Are there too many people over there?” He asked, his concern and care on display, “We can turn around if you want.”

Blaze looked over her shoulder, both to better scan how many families had gathered and, more primarily, to simply hide her renewed blush. The hedgehog’s hands were in the exact same position they had been last night; she had looked him in the eyes, returned his touch and thanked him for his aid. Right now, she could only think to avoid his gaze and call him naïve.

But she didn’t want to do that. There were families by the rockpools, yes, but before today she would’ve been entirely comfortable among her people and beside him. Her boosted bashfulness had swollen to such an extent that not only was Silver pointing it out, he was actively concerned about it. She couldn’t let this stick; she couldn’t let it drag into the future days! She’d promised to take initiative and that was exactly what she’d do.

Her hands came to latch on his biceps, her brow steeled, and lips pursed as she met his eyes once more, “W-Well, what about you, Silver?”

“Wh-What about me?” He asked, concern quickly being dashed by confusion.

“You’ve said it before, but I’ll ask again; are you okay with this?” She had to be more specific. She took a step forward; surprised, he almost stumbled back, “Are you okay with us being seen like this?”

“I am!” He swore without hesitation, “As long as you are, I am.”

“So, you do want to be here with me?” She went further, tightening her grasp and taking another step. As long as she kept moving, she could overlook the stutter in her voice and the heat on her muzzle. If she controlled the pace, if she took hold of the momentum, then she could manage all of this.

“Of course I do,” He immediately answered. His seriousness grew further but it couldn’t match hers, she’d always known this, “Even if we weren’t pretending to be together, you know I like being with you.”

He had no idea what she’d prompted from him but, essentially, she’d managed to tease free an admittance that he wanted to be here with her. That fact he’d admitted to wanting to be there, regardless of their overall scheme, went a long way to setting her at ease. Despite that though, she still had a point to get across.

“And as long as you’re okay with this, I’m okay with this. This was all my idea after all,” She forced her amber orbs to burn into his brighter set, “Don’t worry about me being uncomfortable, but I want to know if you are,” Blaze refused to let herself flinch and denied herself even the right to blink. She rose to her tiptoes and brought her head closer to his, mirroring the way he’d leaned down to her last night, “As long as you’re okay, I’m okay.”

“R-Right,” His stutter wasn’t born of embarrassment, merely a combination of surprise and confusion. He broke from her gaze and took a deep breath. His grasp had tightened when he met her eyes again, “Let’s do it then, it’ll be easy.”

“If you change your mind or worry about anything, you just have to say,” She wanted to press her forehead against his, but height wouldn’t allow it. Instead, she opted to take yet another step. With that, they escaped the shade of the cliff, “You can rely on me just as much as I do you, you know this?”

“I do, of course I do! I don’t know what I’d do without you,” He insisted, not so much embarrassed but flustered by her endeavour. Strangely, Silver somehow looked cuter still when positioned like this. Despite that, he managed to keep talking, “You look out for me and I look out for you, th-that’s what we do.”

She let herself drop to her heels, her arms left his, “Good. Then we’ll make it through this,” He, almost lost and confused, replicated her release; allowing her to turn back towards the rockpools, “We’ll look out for each other, no matter what.”

They resumed their approach, many eyes had turned upon them but, noticing their shift, were quickly dropping towards the pools. Blaze hadn’t had the gall to retake his hand, but she was still leading, she was succeeding!

This would be easy. If she could keep a tight grip on herself and control of the pace, then she was certain she’d make it through today’s date at least. Tomorrow would be a more private affair, prime for both self-discovery and prying further into how he felt. She wasn’t sure how long this fake dating scheme could last now, it would be immoral to steal kisses from him with her new understanding, but hopefully this state’s replacement would eventually grant her that freedom. She couldn’t help feeling embarrassed by that thought but, as long as she could subdue it, overcoming this meant future efforts would become easier. She just had to chip away at these feelings, work and practice until she could properly control th-

“Oh, I meant to ask earlier,” Her ear twitched, registering the return to his more casual tone, “Why’re you wearing a swimsuit under your dress, are we going swimming later?”

She’d entirely forgotten that was a choice she’d made; a choice that’d become especially obvious when his hands found her shoulders and she’d drawn so close. As Blaze’s cheeks reddened, and her temperature spiked, the undeniable became clear. She was far from overcoming this embarrassment. With a quick fumble, her sunglasses were made to lower again in a half-hearted attempt to hide her panic.

“It’s just, I didn’t bring my stuff with me,” He continued, seemingly oblivious, “I don’t want to ruin these-

“Sh-Shush!” She took hold of his hand again, dragging him towards the rocks with a speed unmatched by any prior, “It’s fine, don’t worry about it! Let’s just go find some crabs, o-or something.”

Finding her ideal partner, the very goal of this scheme, had taken no time at all, but being comfortable seeing him in such a light… that was going to take much longer.

#silvaze #Silver the Hedgehog #Blaze the Cat #sonic the hedgehog #sonic #silverxblaze #Marine The Raccoon #fanfiction #writing

[lunasilvermorny]

Festival Fun SQ - Part 1 - It’s already all over the place, and we’re just starting.

Okay, let’s do this!

Ooooh, I love this loading screen.

2 out of 4 pairings are actually together in the headcanon, so I approve!

Ah, yes. We all know that every love story always starts with... gardening? Anyway, JC, can you pick up the pace already?

I promised myself I’ll try to be patient, but...

Okay, okay.

Positive attitude. Let’s continue...

Ahhhhh.... Care to elaborate a bit, MC?

I feel like we need a bit more context.

Jesus Christ, who did you murder?

So, it’s been a while since I played this game...

But you all see that dragon in the task-bar, right?

Charlie, what did you do?

Charlie: First the task-bar, then the world!

(Future me: I get it, it’s a clubs thing... I’m sharing some of my original notes too, okay? Just roll with it...)

Hagrid: Nothin’ like child-labor, I always say.

Just wait till 2020, mate.

No one is laughing now...

You’re talking to Luna... obviously, class would be the best part for her.

I can see her and Rowan squealing in excitement already.

Wait a minute, Rowan’s going to be here, right? Right, JC?!

It’s a year-5 achievement. You better make sure he’s there!

Well, that’s a huge leap... I think you added 10 levels by mistake.

Not that I'm complaining, but...

It caught me off guard.

Why do I feel like Tonks is contemplating their friendship as Luna’s talking?

I can’t be the only one that immediately thought of the "There’s a horse in the hospital” bit by John Mulaney.

Either Tonks has the biggest “bro” attitude out there, or she lives vicariously through MC.

Damn, so bitter...

But he’s 100% right, to be fair.

JC, lamp-shading it won’t make it less creepy, you know. I hated how everyone ganged up on her in the Valentine’s Day SQ. I really hope it will be a bit more subtle this time.

You mean the one where you’re still not a romantic option?

Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s cool they added Jae and Chiara, but I don’t get why Badeea is an option but Liz isn’t. It’s not like Badeea is super popular in the fandom. I really hope some day my girl Liz would get the love she deserves.

Wait, wait, wait, wait... Stop, stop, stop.

This is happening during year 5, right?

Okay, I actually really like it because in my headcanon Barnaby remains good friends with Ismelda and Merula, so it fits perfectly.

Okay, let’s get back to the plot.

Is Badeea painting a Puffskein in the background? 

(Once again the background sub-plot is more interesting than the main plot.)

Wow, the change in attitude once MC arrives is... Yikes.

Sure, JC. Merula likes MC. Very convincing.

Stop making me relate to Ismelda!

Again, I feel like I’m going to mention it a lot - it’s a year-5 SQ, JC!

You better not shove year-6 Ben down my throat.

Also, Rowan is nowhere to be found... You’re so damn lazy!

My angel deserves so much better than this... At least now I know that JC doesn’t give a shit about players that aren’t up-to-date with the latest chapters...

But why, though? I get why Penny, but Merula is not popular and she never showed any kind of social-initiative before. She wants to be the strongest witch, but it doesn’t have anything to do with a popularity-based title.

If I remember correctly. she criticized MC in one of the previous SQs for listening to Penny and said that power is more important than popularity.

So why would she want to win something that is completely dependent on a popularity status?

Oh right, it’s a JC game. There is no logic or consistency. Sorry. Carry on...

I was so bored, I didn’t even notice the “neither” choice...

Okay, let’s just be a supportive friend, then.

I mean, if it’s between Penny and Merula, then it’s a no-brainer.

But literally anyone else, and my answer would change. (Chiara FTW!)

Awww, see what I mean by her being a bro?

So damn supportive when she's not screwing everything up.

I-

I gotta say, I like this little Ravenclaw gathering.

I wish there were more activities for MC and the other characters from her house. Because even though Tulip is not technically a part of this, it’s still nice to have a scene with Talbott, Andre and Badeea.

Also, this skunk spell... Tulip is going to abuse it, I guarantee it.

To be fair, just making all the outfits is enough work already.

But wait, isn’t he a dateable option as well? I’m confused.

I said it before, but in these type of SQs, Andre is the best!

Of course she understands, mate. You deserve way more than you’re getting out of this whole deal, trust me.

Haha, Tulip’s blank stare in the background... Cue the “They ask you how you are, and you just have to say you're fine, when you're not really fine...” meme.

Can we all embrace a collective headcanon where Andre’s actually getting compensation for all his hard work?

Luna has enough money to spare, there’s no way this bloke is not getting paid for this.

That’s usually how it works, mate.

No, no, no... Please don’t make it that everyone’s pushing her into a corner again, it was so awkward!

I can’t go through it again...

Also, it’s Luna. She chooses her dates, not the other way around.

Called it!

Though, to be fair, who didn’t see it coming?

Guess...

-------------------

Wow, they really didn’t give me a lot to work with, huh?

Well, the post is long enough, so... Hopefully there will be enough interesting stuff happening in the next post.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #festival fun sq #hphm mc #hphm year 5 #luna silver #andre egwu #badeea ali #talbott winger #tulip kasaru #nymphadora tonks #charlie weasley #rubeus hagrid

[namelessvoid77]

a list of what you are allowed to refer to me as

id like to preface that i am like 75% serious with this. i do not like to be perceived.

if you are a stranger you may refer to me as:

-It

Please note that these must be capitalized when speaking over text, and you must use vocal capitalization when speaking in person. You know what I mean.

if you are an acquaintance you may refer to me as:

-my lord

-my liege

-your honor

-your highness

-your grace

Mutuals do count as acquaintances.

if you are an enemy you may use:

-esteemed nemesis

-menace

-plague

-burden

-torment

-misfortune

if you are a close friend you may use:

-my Real Name

-He

-boy

-any of the above titles

You may notice that the close friend category has a lot of more masculine terms. this is because i trust my close friends to use masculine terms while still respecting my (non)identity.

FAQ:

How will I know what category I am in?

I will Inform you if you are wrong.

How will I know your Real Name when I become a close friend?

I will Inform you.

Do you really want us to follow these title rules?

I mean, mostly. While this can be interpreted as an elaborate shit post, I also genuinely do not want you to use my Real Name if you don't know me that well, and also only it/its pronouns if you don't know me that well. I would also genuinely appreciate if mutuals and acquaintances used the acquaintance title.

Why???

I'm a gender nihilist. You can look up what that means, there's a decent explanation on the anarchist library. It basically means that I don't think gender is a construct that is necessary to society, so I choose not to observe it. That being said, I will obviously respect your preferred pronouns/terms, as I am not you.

Does that mean you're agender/genderfuck/[insert other nonbinary identity]?

No. If you refer, or even think of me, as those identities, stop. Please. I don't like it.

If you don't like to be called nonbinary, then why do you use mlm/nblm?

Well, would you like to present me with a better option? I do technically prefer queer, as I am also attracted to women and nonbinary people, but I do like to clarify that I have a preference towards guys/masculine individuals. So, if you have a better way for me to do that that doesn't require a sentence long explanation, let me know.

Was this post just an elaborate way to describe your identity?

Maybe. But I would also like you to actually use the terms.

Thank you for reading.

#identity #gender #gender nihilism #gender nihilist #lgbtq+ #lgbt+ #lgbtq #lgbt #pronouns #preferred terms #nonbinary #queer #nblm #nblnb #mlm

[the-anonymous-public-diary]

Hello curious new friend!

I bet you’re wondering what this blog actually is, huh? Kudos to you for even caring in the slightest! Well, anyway, sit back and let me explain it to you!

One night in a fit of (accidentally self-induced) bipolar mania I was struck with a sudden urge to write a diary entry for the first time in what seems like a decade. And it just so happens that I got a new pen-tablet not too long ago. Thus, I decided that not only would I write an entry, but I would also make my journal entry a bit of an art project! I opened Photoshop and began letting my thoughts go where ever they wanted. Then, I got to about what I would consider the middle of my entry, my mania fed me another idea that I thought was actually somewhat brilliant, and subsequently chose to act on that as well!

So, the reason I created this side-blog was to have a place to post any diary entries that I happen to create from here on out. I feel it might be somehow cathartic to share what I'm going through with total strangers on the internet.

But that’s not all!

I would like to invite you, my most wonderful reader, to send in your anonymous diary/journal entries too!

The choice is yours! Be as creative and elaborate as you want! You can take a picture of your handwritten entries from your actual diary or from other physically written journaling. Alternatively, you could even screenshot digital entries from your PC or phone! Perhaps you are still concerned about your level of anonymity. In that case, you can go a step further to keep yourself on the sly by sending your entry with instructions for me to write it up on your behalf. Alternatively, if you prefer, you could take the leisurely and more incognito route and let me do all the hard work for you! Just give me a general gist of what is bothering you and let me know that you want to hand over creative control to me. I’ll do my absolute utmost to come up with something that might maybe just slightly resemble an entry to do with what you’re going through. Admittedly, you’d likely end up having to squint, stand on your head, and then translate it to braille for it to fit, but I promise to try my best!

So, welcome to: The Anonymous Public Diary!

I don’t know how you found this blog, but I sure am glad you’re here! I would seriously love to see this blog flourish as I think this could become something amazing!

Yet, still, it’s really going to depend on those of you who choose to submit your entries. I don’t think this will even get off the ground if I’m in this endeavor alone.

So, please, won’t you consider joining me on this journey?

Rules/guidelines under the cut for those who are interested in submitting!

The Anonymous Public Diary Rules/Guidlines:

No one will know that it’s you unless you want them to! You can be as public or as nameless as you prefer!

No one is going to judge you! Your thoughts, feelings and experiences are all valid and just as important as anyone else’s!! (I’ll be blocking any bullies I see interacting! Oh, and don’t be afraid to let me know about any I happen to miss!)

You are welcome to vent, ask for advice, or even just share about a cool thing you saw! Anything goes! (However, be cautious with adult things. I’d rather not lose this blog to the “sensitive content” brigade. Remember, creative euphemisms are a wondrous tool! A bratwurst isn’t always a bratwurst if you phrase it right!)

Your entry can be a single sentence if that’s all you feel is necessary. Or you can max it out all the way up to a full page! (My limit for writing your entry for you is 250 words.) (The limit for screenshot/photo posts is 5 pictures. Should it be required, I will crop and/or resize images as necessary.)

This is the REALLY important bit you should note:

I am a Norse Pagan, Non-binary, Pansexual in my 30′s. I am the parent of a Trans-female under 10yo, my sister whom I love despite our distance is a POC and Bisexual. And finally, one of my two best friends is the child of immigrants, a POC, and also a Witch.

I will not tolerate intolerance, bigotry, sexism, racism, or any other form of dumb-assed fuckery regardless of how seemingly innocuous or morally grey!

If any of the above-mentioned sub-human behavior was perpetrated against you, by all means, submit that post/ask! That’s a seriously heavy burden to carry and you shouldn’t have to do it alone! Let us help carry that weight!

HOWEVER! If any of the above is in your submission/ask and you are not the victim of the scenario I will be blocking and reporting you without a second thought. And if you’re unsure about if what you’re submitting falls under those categories my advice is to either: A) Do some research before submitting and/or note that you’re unsure so that I can make the final decision. (I understand that sometimes we can mess up in small ways because we may not know the full extent of what the definitions and/or behaviors are) OR B) Don’t fucking send it! This option is for those times when you DO know that what you’re doing is wrong, immoral, and overall fucked up but you just can’t help yourself. This option is for the people who CHOOSE TO do harm because they’re still stuck in their 5th-grade bully mentality and have never bothered to grow ever since then.

#diary #journal #anonymous #public #submit #secrets #submit your diary #submit your journal #share your secrets #The Anonymous Public Diary #DEZtalks

[basicsofislam]

ISLAM 101: 5 PILLARS OF ISLAM: ALMS AND CHARITY: FIQH OF ZAKAT IN DETAIL:

HOW IS ZAKAT PAID? (Part2)

IS IT BETTER TO GIVE ZAKAT SECRETLY OR OPENLY?

The comparative virtue of secretly and openly giving zakat or sadaqa differs according to place and time. Although it may be better, on occasions, to give openly, at other times, opting to pay secretly may provide a wiser option. Verses and hadiths elaborating on both these circumstances afford us different clues in relation to this point. For example, “To give alms in public is good, but to give charity to the poor secretly is better for you and will atone for some of your sins,” (Baqara 2:271) “Those who spend their wealth by night and day, in private and public, shall be rewarded by their Lord”(Baqara 2:274). Based on these Qur’anic statements, we ascertain the diverse benefits of secret and open charities depending on time and place. Yet, Muslim scholars have preponderantly advised an open payment of zakat while recommending the secret offering of other charities.

Though an open payment may act as an encouragement to others, a secret payment forestalls the emergence of vices, like pride, arrogance about one’s means, and showing off. A person may be able to steer clear of these vices while performing zakat, which is, after all, an imperative obligation which is supposed to be performed with the intention of purifying the wealth; however, as for sadaqa, a voluntary activity, falling prey to these vices may come more easily. It is for this reason while enumerating the seven groups of people to be shaded under the shade of the Throne, on a horrendous Day where no other shade exists, the Messenger of God also includes, “those whose left sides are oblivious to what their right sides have given (as charity).”7

Therefore, it is essential to give voluntary sadaqa or charities secretly, and for this reason, it is said that a supererogatory sadaqa given in secret is 70 times more virtuous and valuable than that which is given openly. The Noble Messenger articulated the following: “Goodness never exhausts, sins are not forgotten, and God never dies; so do as you wish.”8 Indeed God is Alive and Eternal, a Watcher and Guard over all things perpetrated. As verified by this additional declaration: “We have shown him the right path, whether he be grateful or ungrateful” (Insan 76:3). In other words, human may either nurture a profound gratitude towards the Being Who has, through innumerable ways, made him aware of His transcendent existence, or ungratefully, throw into dissipation all his privileges, including himself, by shamefully choosing the path of disgraceful rebellion.

Note that giving explicitly may involve a degree of disdain on behalf of the benefactor as s/he acquires personal insight to the needs, condition, and circumstances of the beneficiary. In addition, a hadith such as, “The hand which gives is better than the hand which receives,” might spuriously justify disdain in souls lacking full insight into the Message. But clearly, disdaining and abasing a Muslim has indubitably been decreed forbidden.

A further difficulty arises if the recipient is not known to be poor by the public—someone who has kept his/her need quiet, so to speak—in which case giving the sadaqa overtly may incur the ill-thought from both the donor and others that the recipient is accepting the donation without a genuine need. Here, then, is another example of how each act of faith becomes both an opportunity and a trial—for it is not right to indulge in such thoughts about others, and we risk rapidly and completely annulling any potential benefits to ourselves if we fail to check our tendencies to judge or criticize in this way. Thus, in order to fend of Satan’s whispers and the personal embarrassment the poor may experience, the best method remains that of our predecessors—one in which we secretively place the sadaqa in a location which is easily accessible by those in need, and then swiftly leave.

Perhaps we could make an exception for those towering spiritual figures who, by virtue of having already conquered their own egos, are not easily affected by the side-effects which plague the majority, and by whose leadership in the field of charity, many more souls might be drawn into random giving. For these noble individuals, visibility in the act of sadaqa might be appropriate. But this would certainly be an atypical situation—not a recommended practice for the average person.

Putting the Qur’anic balance into the picture, it can be ascertained that, occasionally, it is preferable to opt for an open payment of zakat, however, as mentioned earlier: “To give alms in public is good, but to give charity to the poor secretly is better for you, and will atone for some of your sins. God has knowledge of all that you do” (Baqara 2: 272). There is a balance, in other words. In similar fashion to salat (prayer) and sawm (fasting), the performance of obligatory actions is an instrument of public encouragement, as well as clearing its performer from likely incriminations. The highly potent and symbolic words of the Prophet in reference to those deliberately falling back from congregational salats were as follows: “I have contemplated leaving a deputy to lead, then burst in on those who, without excuse, fall back from salats, and set their houses ablaze.” In addition, the outer manifestation of a life of faith, of an adherence to the practice of Islam, is not a trivial matter, as verified by another hadith “Whoever performs our salat, faces our qibla (the direction turned towards during salat, towards the Sacred Ka‘ba), and eats what we slaughter is a Muslim under the guarantee of God and His Messenger.”9 In effect, the belief of a Muslim is reflected and generally understood by others in terms of the publicly performed obligatory deeds; therefore, there is benefit in offering these openly, to dispel any possible suspicion and spare witnesses from the easy temptation of judging another believer; in addition, public contributions of zakat provide an inspiration to those outside of the faith who might feel invited to submit after witnessing the all- encompassing mercy espoused by the Qur’an.

The actions of Abu Bakr and Ali, may God be pleased with t hem, who had totally comprehended the balance displayed in the Qur’an, are exemplary. The former, having had

dirhams worth of wealth, donated a quarter of it at night, another quarter at day, another quarter in secret and the last quarter in public; thus he actualized all the facets emphasized in the Qur’an. The latter openly donating his 4 dirhams, and then remarked, “O God, let this be an encouragement”; while during a secret donation, he prayed “Only for your sake my Lord.” While giving at night, he prayed again: “May my night be alight;” and during the day, he uttered, “O God illuminate my day.”10 There it is: a display of the Companions’ astounding sensitivity and their profound vitality in bringing Islam to life.

CAN DEFECTIVE PROPERTY BE GIVEN AS ZAKAT ?

The awesome balance set by Islam in all fields is also visible in the fundamentals of offering and collecting zakat. While instructing the collectors to avoid collecting the “best possession,” the benefactors are themselves encouraged to choose to give their best as an invaluable means of reaching the spiritual summit, a fact attested to by the Qur’an: “You will not attain righteousness until you spend of what you love” (Al Imran 3:92). Anas ibn Malik narrates the following in relation: “Of the Ansar (Medinan Muslims),” Abu Talha was one of the richest, and Bayruha—a garden across the Masjid al-Nabawi (the grandmosque at Medina), was his most beloved possession. The Messenger of God, on occasions, used to enter it and drink from its clean water. When the verse, “You will not attain righteousness until you spend of what you love” (Baqara 3:92) was revealed, Abu Talha went to the Prophet and proclaimed the following: “If this is what the Almighty God has decreed in His Book, then from now on Bayruha, my most prized possession, is a charity for God. I anticipate its rewards and benefits from Him alone. O Messenger of God! Do with it as you wish.” The Prophet responded delightfully, “How beautiful! This will bring a multitude of rewards and a copious recompense in the afterlife. I have heard your words on this subject, but if you ask me, divide it between your relatives,” and upon this Abu Talha divided it between his relatives.”11 Indeed, it is evident that in order to become an ideal servant of God, one must donate, for His sake, one’s most cherished items. Those who aspire to Paradise undoubtedly will present, with paramount pleasure, their best crops and produce.

In a hadith conveyed by Abu Hurayra, the Messenger of God reveals, “Whoever donates an amount equivalent to a handful of dates out of his pure earnings—and certainly God accepts only that is pure—God will take it and, just how one of you rears his foal, he will raise it to the size of a mountain.”12

Through another hadith, again transmitted by Abu Hurayra, the Prophet earnestly announced, “O humankind! God is Pure and He only accepts what is pure. God has also commanded the believers what He has commanded the Prophets, namely “O Messengers! Eat of the pure things and act with righteousness” (Mu’minun 23:51); and for the believers, “O you who believe! Eat of the good and clean things which We have provided for you, and be grateful to God, if it is He whom you worship” (Baqara 2:172).

In tandem, a person must put himself in the shoes of the recipient, and thus avoid giving substandard or defective items. The Qur’an elaborates the following caution in relation to this very fact:“…and seek not the bad (with intent) to spend of it (in charity)” (Baqara 2:267). In other words, one must be absolutely alert in preventing any illicitness, such as this has been forbidden by God, from coalescing with one’s donations—either accidentally or by virtue of neglect on our part.

Consequently, all manner of “filth” must be kept well at bay from honest and pure earnings, and the charity should be presented from the purest portion—the portion which the benefactor himself would gladly accept in the reverse scenario, were he to find himself the recipient instead. In practical terms, this means ensuring that gains are not secured through means which are, themselves, illicit; and to make certain that the offering meets the highest trade standard, in terms of both the quality of the goods and their real value.

During the blissful era of the Prophet, people used to leave bunches of dates at the Masjid al-Nabawi for the poor to eat. One day, after having seen a few defective bunches, the Prophet (upon whom be peace) pointed with his stick and said, “If the owner of this charity wished, he would have donated a finer bunch. Its owner will, in turn, be reciprocated with a similarly defective return in the afterlife.”13

WHEN IS THE MOST VIRTUOUS TIME FOR OFFERING ZAKAT ?

After having reached its nisab, a property on which a year has elapsed becomes subject to zakat. Yet, the generally prevalent practice is to offer it during the month of Ramadan. Although this remains the overall accepted routine, there are others who maintain that zakat should best be given before its deadline or during the season of harvest. All these views, certainly, are predicated upon various proofs, which can be recapitulated as follows.

PAYMENT DURING RAMADAN

The practice of giving zakat in Ramadan is by and large based on two notions—namely to benefit from the special month’s blessings, and to put a smile on the faces of the poor in preparation for Eid. While it remains essential to perform deeds within their specific time frames and in line with their particular requirements, their performance at sacred times and places, it is hoped, brings even greater rewards. For instance, offering salat at theKa‘ba or Masjid al-Nabawi is considered more valuable in comparison to other places. This isactually implied by the words of the Noble Prophet, who declared that there are only three mosques in the world that, on their own, are worth traveling to—Ka‘ba in Mecca, Masjid al-Nabawi in Medina, and Masjid al-Aqsa in Jerusalem.14

As for timing, the blessings of Ramadan are evidently manifest; it is considered the “sultan” of the other eleven months, containing a night superior to a thousand months. Therefore, completing an obligation like zakat within the parameters of Ramadan is believed to be an opportunity to greater rewards, as well as serving its prime role of relieving its benefactor from a compulsory duty in a timely, scheduled manner. Narrated by Anas ibn Malik, the ensu ing hadith alludes to this. The Prophet was asked, “What is the most virtuous fast after the fast of Ramadan?” He responded, “The fast of (the months of) Shaban, in reverence to Ramadan.” He w a s t hen asked: “Which sadaqa is of greater virtue?” And he replied, “Sadaqa given in Ramadan.”15

#allah #god #islam #muslim #quran #revert #convert #convert islam #revert islam #reverthelp #revert help #revert help team #help #islamhelp #converthelp #prayer #salah #muslimah #reminder #pray #dua #hijab #religion #mohammad #new muslim #new revert #new convert #how to convert to islam #convert to islam #welcome to islam

[potatowitch]

Quality of Life Wishlist for DA4

This will be a very long one but I have some Thoughts about little tiny things that I think are missing from Origins, DA2 and Inquisition that I hope Bioware thinks about when making DA4.

Make banter guaranteed to activate every 15 minutes or so, regardless of where you are, unless you are in combat or a conversation with an NPC.

Make armor look different depending on race/origin. My Dalish elf shouldn’t be forced to wear shoes just because the other three races would. Same goes for stronghold/home outfits/pyjamas - why you have to download a mod to let your elf wear the elf NPC clothes in Skyhold I’ll never know. They’re literally already in the game.

Let the MC respond to companion banter more, even if it’s the way Hawke does in DA2 where a dialog wheel doesn’t show, they just make a small comment.

Make it easier to increase inventory size, similar to buying backpacks in the first 2 games. Having to spend Inquisition perks to increase inventory size bugs me.

Better hair options! Even if all the “long” hair options have to be updos to minimize clipping, there is no reason to have fifteen different variations of “bald/shaved” and only one “long hair that’s been put into a braided bun” option. Give me LONG ponytails. Side braids down the front. Pig tails. Elaborate braided buns. Long hair that’s been pulled back from the face. Space buns. Anything.

Tintable weapons. Bothered me to no end when I would make a dragonbone weapon in Inquisition and it had to be that weird orange gold colour.

Let me swim but please do not make me fight anyone underwater. Every single time it happens in a game, any game, I want to vomit.

Make companions actually utilize the jump function. I don’t know how difficult this would be to program but I got real sick of companions getting stuck behind fences because they didn’t realize they could jump.

Let me make my own notes on the map. An example: adding a pin that says “saw a dragon here. come back later when higher level”. The original Neverwinter Nights game did this and I loved it.

Way to do some war table functions without having to return to a stronghold, similar to how the Descent DLC did. For example, I should be able to do every war table mission from Skyhold, but if a war table mission takes place around the Hinterlands I should be able to order it to be done from a table in Redcliffe.

A different quiver. Please. Even if it works the way it does in Skyrim where it matches the bow. I am So Bored of the same quiver that matches none of my armor.

Companions have their own personalised mounts that they summon when you get on yours, so they can ride with you and they can still banter. World of Warcraft does this with companions on the Broken Isles in the Legion expansion and I appreciate it. Imagine Blackwall having a black horse with Grey Warden insignia on the saddle. Vivienne’s horse being a beautiful white stallion with an elaborately braided mane.

Expanded tactics, similar to the first two games. I miss being able to tell Alistair “hey if someone attacks Barkspawn please immediately taunt them”.

Please consult someone who actually wears makeup on what shadow, liner and blush are meant to look like.

Let me save a preset in the character creator so if I want to replay my main I don’t have to take a million screenshots of my sliders then try my best to recreate them from an image. I should not have to install mods to do this.

Don’t make me travel to Kirkwall to change my hair. In both DA2 and Inquisition your character has a bedroom, why can they not just have a little mirror on top of their dresser to change hair and makeup? Fair enough if you want to change facial features, tattoos and scars, but hair and makeup? Come on.

Better eyebrows and lashes.

Please include ALL tattoo options from Origins, DA2 and Inquisition, ESPECIALLY if we’re bringing back the Warden, Hawke or the Inquisitor for any reason.

Let me give my elves cartilage piercings. Let me give everyone facial piercings.

More diverse body types, even if it’s similar to the way Bioware does it in SWTOR (you have petite, “average”, curvy and buff options - it’s not a lot, but it’s better than what we have). I really like the system that Guild Wars 2 has where you can pick a base body type from 10-15 options and also edit your height, but I know that might make things difficult to program for cutscenes.

Can I have some healing spells back? Even if it’s just one or two? Don’t love how if I’m out of potions in Inquisition all Solas can do is be like “here. have a barrier. hope you don’t die because my resurrect is on cooldown lol”

Find a balance between Inquisition’s “you only have 8 spells slots” and Origins and DA2′s “your action bar covers the whole bottom of your screen”. Maybe 12 spell slots?

If we must have a “squad goes to a party” level, please make the outfits pretty and race/origin appropriate and Do Not give everyone the same outfit. Better yet, upon entering the level, bring up a temporary character creator that’s like “here are a couple of outfit options, also do you want to change your hair and makeup for this mission specifically?”

Body scars and body tattoos, especially for Dalish elves. Let my vallaslin go down to my titties.

A more customisable HUD/UI. Let me make my quest tracker smaller! My action bars smaller! My companion portraits SMALLER! They take up so much space!

I really hope they bring back the companion armor system from Inquisition. I love how the basic armors look different depending on which companion you put them on and I hope they keep that in DA4.

Let me choose whether hats are visible for specific companions. I don’t want everyone wearing their helmets but Cole’s hat, Vivienne’s headpiece, the flower crown, the Qunari face paint and the mage hoods are Important and I like them and want to see them.

Capes? Can I have some capes? I’d like a cape.

#dragon age #dragon age 4 wishlist #dragon age origins #dragon age 2 #dragon age inquisition #how do tags work #long post #trinity is rambling again #i have Opinions ... again #i typed this up with Inquisition unpaused in the background hoping it would help me get the Dorian and Bull romance going #but no #all that happened was solas and dorian bickered #no input from bull at all #thanks dude #uh #dragon age 4 #is that everything i need to tag? #lmao