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canon-transgender-virgil · 3 years

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Check In (Intrulogical)

A/N: Finished this fic relatively quickly! It's a lot shorter than the Roceit one I posted earlier this week but it's still kinda a long fic lol!

Summary: Directly following the events of WTIT, Remus pops into Logan's room for what he claims is a quick chat, but that quickly grows into something more when the two actually get to talking.

Content Warnings: innuendos, swearing, intrusive thoughts, implied NS/FW (but nothing happens, dw), hurt-comfort

Logan had taken shelter in his room the moment Thomas got home from his outing with Nico. The logical side couldn’t stand to be around the other sides at the moment and he needed to sort out what was going on in his head.

The spectacled side took a deep breath and sat at his desk, staring at the wooden tabletop before slamming his fist down on it. “Fuck!” He yelled at the top of his lungs, infinitely thankful for the magic soundproofing around everyone’s rooms. What would the others think if they heard the rational, level headed (yeah right) Logic yelling expletives at random in his room?

He straightened his tie and glasses and got up, summoning a straw dummy labeled “Thomas”. He stood in front of it and glared at the doll, visibly angry, before he began ranting to it. He talked and talked, yelling at the dummy about how angry he was at being constantly ignored and pushed aside and made fun of, and if the familiar 10 notes announcing a certain Creativity’s presence hadn’t gotten his attention, he would have continued.

“My my Logan, you’ve got so much to say and no one to say it to, huh!” The moustached side raised an eyebrow, smirking at the nerd.

“...what do you want, Remus.” Logan’s words were curt, like he was trying to say just little enough to make the Dark Side leave.

“Gosh, I can’t just talk to a friend?-”

“We are not friends.”

“Ouch!” Remus pretended to be injured. “You’re so prickly, like a kinda sexy cactus! What’s up your ass today?”

Logan stopped and consulted his flashcards, hearing Remus snicker at this and trying to ignore the fact that his face was burning slightly. “Um… Ah.” He found the card he was looking for and examined it a little. “Nothing is ‘up my ass’ today, Remus. You know full well why I’m upset.”

“Uh huh, cuz I called you out on your lying ass.” He sounded irritatingly proud of that fact.

“Yes, well, you got what you wanted. Are you just here to rub it in my face?” Logan stared at Remus, though he noticeably avoided direct eye contact with the gremlin of a side.

Remus frowned. “No, actually.”

“Then you’re here to make me… feel… worse, correct?”

“Nope!” The green-sashed monster grinned.

“Then what do you possibly hope to gain from this interaction?” The blue tied Side frowned. Remus wasn’t here to bug him, or to upset him further? What reason, then, did he have to come to Logan’s room?

“It’s like I said earlier, I wanted to talk to you!”

“...what about?”

Remus shrugged. “I dunno! What do you wanna talk about?”

Logan blinked. “...excuse me?”

“Yeah! Let’s hear what you wanna talk about!” The Duke sat down on Logan’s bed and grinned up at him.

“...” The teacher was silent. “...you’re mocking me, aren’t you?”

“Huh?” Remus blinked and raised an eyebrow. “Why would I-?”

“Yes, I figured as much. Remus, I don’t have time for your games and if you’re simply going to make fun of me you can just-”

“Woah! Pump the brakes Lo, who said I was making fun of you?” The green side looked legitimately confused.

Logan crossed his arms. “Remus, statistically speaking, a total of… Zero sides share any of my interests. A total of three sides have shown aversion to or have mocked the things I consider interesting or enj- er, have a vague liking towards. Why should I believe you aren’t here to add to the latter set of data?”

“First of all, because I sat through that whole talk.” Remus joked. Seeing that Logan just rolled his eyes, he continued. “And secondly, because we also have some of the same interests! Your census of mockery only includes J-Anus, Emo Boy, Hop-Pop Patton and my dumbass brother!”

“Really? Then what are some of those shared interests, oh Duke of Imaginary Death?”

“That was terrible, one.” Remus held up his pointer finger. “And two, we both like chemistry, and poisoning, and astronomy-”

“Wait wait wait.” Logan held a hand up to silence Remus for a moment. “You… like astronomy?”

“Sure! What’s more existentially terrifying than imagining going hurtling right into the sun, or a black hole, or-” Remus’s eyes widened as he talked about the possibilities.

“Thank you, Remus.” Logic sighed. “But… why talk with… me?”

“Cuz… I kinda owe it to you? After being a dickhead all day?”

Logan blinked. “You didn’t have a phallus for a head today?-”

“Figure of speech, teach.” Remus explained curtly.

Logan ‘ah’d’ and nodded.

“And anyways… I wanted to apologize.”

That caused Logan to stop. “...you… wanted to apologize… to me?”

“Yeah, it’s weird for me too, but it’s true! I didn’t mean to make you so mad you - figuratively - blew up, I just wanted to prove a point.”

“I appreciate your use of the word figuratively Remus, and… thank you.”

“No problem!” Remus grinned and thought for a second. “So… wanna talk about forensics?”

Logan’s eyes lit up. “Do I ever!-” He stopped. “Ah, uh, I mean… If you’d like to…?”

Remus giggled. “Cute! But you don’t have to hide that, not around me at least!”

“...thank you…” Logan smiled softly and the duke’s heart just about stopped.

“Uh, um… no problem Nerdy Wolverine.” Remus smiled weakly at the cute nerd.

The logical side rolled his eyes and playfully pushed Remus’s shoulder, which brought the moustached side’s attention to just how touch starved he was - a problem for another day, Mus.

“So what d'ya wanna talk about? Black lights, true crime?”

“Both interesting conversations, but… how about another topic you mentioned earlier?” Logan sounded timid, like he was scared Remus would stop listening if he dared to change the subject.

“Oh? What’d you have in mind?” The intrusive thot tilted his head at a sickening 180 degree angle, but that didn’t seem to bother Logan.

“You mentioned being fascinated by astrology as well. Would you like to talk about that?”

“Of course I would, my nerdy Astro-Boy Toy~” Remus laughed at his own nickname, to which Logan rolled his eyes again. “What about space, starlight?”

Logan’s smile grew ever so slightly, thankfully drawing Remus’s attention to that as opposed to his pink cheeks. “Well… let’s talk about constellations. You’re a storyteller of sorts, what’s your favorite constellation origin story?”

“Ooh, how fun!” Remus grinned. “Well, I personally love the story of Aquila, the king who got turned into a golden eagle messenger thing because Zeus got jealous of how much people liked him! You know, he’s the one who brought Zeus his cupbearer, Ganymede? That’s where the Aquarius constellation comes from! He was some Trojan prince, he ended up being the god of homosexual love! Historians think his name was a euphemism, since it’s a combination of the Greek words for ‘gladdening’ and ‘genitals’!”

Logan nodded and watched Remus explain the stories, smiling at how enthusiastically Remus shared the information. Remus noticed this and stopped. “Well, how ‘bout you, teach?”

“Huh?” Logan blinked, being pulled from his thoughts by the sound of Remus’s voice.

“You wanted to talk about constellations! What’s your favorite story?”

“Oh, um… I enjoy the story of Orion, the hunter who killed so many innocent creatures that Gaea sent a large scorpion to kill him and then put both of them in the stars for all eternity.”

“Huh! So that Scorpio constellation…?”

“Yes, that’s its origin story as well.” Logan smiled.

“Funny! I would never have guessed it!” That wasn’t true. Remus knew each and every constellation origin story like the back of his palm. He loved Greek mythology, but the only thing he loved more than that was seeing how Logan’s face lit up when he got to explain it. “Any other stories?”

The teacher blinked and adjusted his glasses. “Oh, um… I also enjoy the Cassiopeia story…”

The duke’s face brightened, eagerly awaiting Logan’s explanation. The spectacled astronomer’s face turned pink when he realized this, not sure what to do with this sort of attention.

“Well, Cassiopeia was a queen in Ancient Greece and she claimed to be the most beautiful thing in creation, which Posideon took personally since he had made what he considered to be the most beautiful creatures, and those were the sea nymphs. So Posideon sent Cetus, this giant sea monster, to torment the town, and he told the citizens that if they wanted him to get rid of the monster, Cassiopeia would have to apologize. She didn’t, so they asked if they could do anything else, and Posideon said if they sacrificed Cassiopeia’s daughter Andromeda to him that Cetus would go away, so the townspeople kidnapped her and brought her down to the pier. Poseidon didn’t like that, of course, since he was really just trying to get Cassiopeia to apologize and didn’t want some poor mortal’s blood on his hands so he let Perseus save her and kill Cetus.

“As punishment for almost letting her daughter die to save her own pride and for insulting the gods, they put her in the sky upside down on a chair to humiliate her for the rest of time.” Logan had gotten pretty excited while he explained the story, grinning widely as he finally finished it.

Remus was silent the entire time, watching how happily Logan told him a story he’d heard a million times before and thinking about how nice it was to be able to hear it from the nerd’s perspective.

Logan, finally remembering Remus was there, coughed softly and adjusted his tie, his smile fading. “Um, apologies, Remus. Thank you for letting me ramble.”

“Lo, you were telling a story! That’d be really dickish for someone to just cut you off during a story, you know?”

“I know, but I still appreciate it.” Logan yawned and Remus realized he looked tired, like the story had exhausted him.

“You wanna take a nap, teach?” The duke frowned and tilted his head.

“I… I have to finish up my work for the day…” The logical side moved his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

“...Lo?”

“Yes…?”

“You had a long day. Yes it was cuz I was being a bitch, but still, you need to get some sleep. Or, y’know, I’m gonna be even more of a bitch to deal with!” Threatening intrusive thoughts usually worked to get Janus to go to bed when he refused to sleep, so he figured he’d try the technique out on Logan.

The nerd however simply shook his head and laughed softly. “I don’t think so, Remus. I can… I can handle you…”

“You couldn’t today, could you?” Remus accidentally blurted out before immediately covering his mouth. “Oh my god I didn’t mean that-”

“It’s fine, Remus.” Logan stated, rubbing his eyes. “You’re right. I couldn’t handle you today. But I really do have to finish working on this-”

“I’ll stay with you if you go to bed!” The duke once again blurted out. “Cuz I don’t think you’d wanna stay alone with Orange so close by, y’know? I can stay and like, fend him off!”

Logic blinked at the proposition and squinted. “...you… want to stay with me? Why are you so adamant about me getting proper sleep?”

“Well one, cuz it’s already 10:30 at night, and two, cuz… you know, I don’t wanna end up actually hurting you!”

That further surprised Logan. “You don’t want to end up hurting me? I was under the impression that that’s something you enjoyed.”

“Well…” Remus was hesitant to explain - that tipped Logan into the fact that it was probably something more than that.

“What’s really going on Remus?” The stern side crossed his arms and stared at the Creativity.

“...okay, I don’t wanna be alone tonight!” The duke stomped his foot and crossed his arms, looking away. “My nightmares have been getting worse and Janus is hanging out with Roman and Patton today and Virgil hates my guts so I figured I’d at least try to hang out with the one side that for some reason still tolerates my dumb ass!” He sounded a little hurt, and added, “Or, one that wouldn’t immediately kick me out or hit me with a broom at the mere sight of me.”

Logan blinked. “Nightmares? You suffer from nightmares?”

Remus sighed and tugged on his sash. “Yeah, they suck ass - not in a fun way - but it’s part of the job description, y’know?”

“I don’t. But… does this mean you also suffer from intrusive thoughts?”

“...yeah… They’re kinda the reason I came in here in the first place...”

The logical side sighed. “Remus, you could have told me sooner you just needed company. I’m not the best at keeping up conversation but I could have at least put on a movie for you to refocus on something other than your intrusive thoughts.”

The duke blinked. “You… you’re not gonna just kick me out?”

“Why would I? You’re in need of assistance and I’m going to provide it for you.” Logan got up and rummaged through his DVD stack. “What would you like to watch?”

Remus stretched and looked over. “Whatever ya want, Sub-astute but Super Cute Teacher.”

Both sides flushed red when they realized what Remus had said.

“...interesting nickname, Remus.” Logan gulped, looking down.

“Yeah, uh…” The duke laughed weakly. “Well, I guess that cat’s out of the plastic bag it was choking in, huh?”

“What, that you think I’m cute?” The teacher looked over at the moustached Creativity. “You already called me sexy.”

“Well yeah, but that felt less… sappy, than calling you cute. And anyways, I meant that I was into you. Ooh, do you have Coraline?”

Logan stopped. “...repeat that, please?”

“The Coraline thing?-”

“The thing before the Coraline request.”

“Oh yeah, I like you.” Remus was right to the point, like always. “When I saw you take the shuriken to the face and just keep on moving right along… God, that was an image!” The duke gripped his thigh and shook his head, stopping himself from reaching down his pants.

“And you’re telling me this now… why?” The teacher was still reeling from the initial confession.

“We don’t get to talk one-on-one a lot! Plus, I don’t really like talking about cutesy emotions - that’s Roman’s department, y’know?”

Logan nodded slowly.

“Anyways, I changed my mind on the movie, can you put on Monster House?”

The spectacled side nodded and got the CD for Monster House, putting it in the DVD player and sitting next to the green-sashed side. He should have figured Remus wouldn’t be the type to linger on his feelings, and he was grateful for that at least. He couldn’t handle talking about feelings for long periods, especially not his own, but to have one of the most passionate sides just drop the fact that they liked him and immediately move on from that fact? It was odd. He almost couldn’t believe it.

Remus meanwhile was laying on the bed and watching the movie intently, smiling brightly at the screen before realizing that Logan had gotten into bed next to him. He turned over a little and growled “seductively” at the teacher, who laughed softly at the dark creativity. The sound caused butterflies to erupt in the duke’s stomach, flustering him a little. He smiled back at the logical side before returning his attention to the movie.

Logan meanwhile admired Remus, watching as he talked excitedly about the movie. He found it strangely endearing, how excitable Remus got when he was able to talk about things he found interesting. He didn’t have much time to think about it though, as he found himself falling asleep soon after the thought passed through his head. The astronerd yawned and passed out, sleeping peacefully next to the intrusive side.

The duke didn’t notice until he felt warm arms wrap around him. It startled the hell out of him, but he relaxed after he realized it was simply the sleeping teacher clinging to him. He carefully took Logan’s glasses off and turned off the TV before closing his eyes and falling asleep.

**The next morning**

Logan woke up first the following morning, still a little tired but feeling much better than he did the previous night. Vision blurry, the blind scholar felt around his nightstand for his glasses before realizing he was curled up into another person. He quickly got his specs on and saw the sleeping form of Remus below him, remembering that Remus had asked to stay with him the night before.

He looked at the sleeping creativity, who looked much more peaceful (and admittedly much cuter) asleep than he ever did awake. Still feeling somewhat tired, the Sherlock kinnie looked away and closed his eyes, feeling his face start to burn. When did he start thinking of Remus as “cute”?

Logan didn’t have too much time to dwell on it as he heard Remus start to stir. “Ugh… morning starshine…”

The teacher jumped and sighed. “Oh, good morning Remus. Did you sleep well?”

“Like an asphyxiated baby… you?” Remus groaned and stretched, waking up a bit more.

“I slept well too.” Logan fidgeted with his hands. The dark creativity, sensing the spectacled nerd’s unease, sat up and went to get off the bed. He was somewhat shocked to feel Logan tug on his sleeve. “Stay. I wanted to talk about what you said to me last night.”

“Oh… that.” Remus sighed and sat back on the bed. “What about it?”

“I… I’m not entirely sure what it feels like, but I think I reciprocate your feelings?”

Remus’s expression changed from slight concern to a poorly hidden malicious grin. “Oh? You’re into me?”

“I… think I am.” Logan nodded slightly.

The duke was silent for a moment before bursting into a grating cackle. “Oh- oh my god! Oh my god, you’re gonna kill me nerd!”

The scholarly side tensed up and blinked. “Excuse me?-”

“Are you fucking kidding me?! What kind of goddamn loser are you, to think I - or anyone really - would like you?! Especially after the bullshit you pulled yesterday, like Jesus Christ you’re pathetic!”

Logan’s heart sank as he heard Remus say this. “So you were, what, mocking me?!”

“No shit, Sherlock!” The intrusive side cackled once again before morphing into a huge octopus-human hybrid monster and grabbing the teacher. “You’re so fucking stupid! What on Earth made you think someone like me would like someone like you?! You’re lucky any of the others even talk to you anymore!”

Logan panicked as the tentacles pulled him up to Remus’s razor sharp teeth, about to chomp down on his head, when-

“Lo! Logan, wake up!” The logical side heard Remus’s voice coming from somewhere it should not have been, and Logan woke up with a start. Remus frowned as the teacher practically flung himself away from him.

“Get away from me!” Logan’s voice sounded frantic and panicked, like a cornered animal.

“Woah, woah!” The creativity held his hands up in surrender. “Teach, it’s me!”

The teacher took a few deep breaths and grounded himself, looking around. “...right, right… Apologies, Remus…”

“No problem, Nerdy Wolverine. Now, care to tell me what happened?”

Logan sighed and moved over to Remus, explaining to him his nightmare, tentatively telling the nightmare inducing side that he’d tried professing his mutual love to the other before getting horrendously mocked and belittled.

“Sounds a lot like my Nightmare Nico scenario. Has this happened before?” Remus had managed to ignore his thundering heartbeat and the cheering going on in his head - Logan likes me back!! He could focus on that later. Right now, Logan needed his help.

“No. I don’t normally dream, period, so to get a nightmare is extremely unprecedented.”

“Huh… so, I’m the reason you had the nightmare?”

“That would be the logical conclusion, though I had assumed that your effects would be… muffled, in my room?”

“Maybe it’s a mix of psychological and my effect on you guys? Like you were stressed or anxious about last night so my ability to give people nightmares got amplified?”

Logan nodded. “Interesting hypothesis, and it’s… definitely possible. I apologize for yelling at you earlier.”

Remus shrugged. “Eh, it’s okay, I’ve heard worse.”

The nerd nodded and the two were silent for a moment before Remus sighed and asked what they were both thinking. “So. I like you, and you… apparently like me back? What does that make us?”

Logan hesitated. “I… I’m not sure. What would you like us to be?”

The duke grinned. “How about boyfriends?”

The scholar smiled. “I think I’d like that.”

Remus beamed brighter and moved a bit before stopping. “Can I kiss you?”

Once again mildly surprised by the other’s bluntness, Logan nodded and scooted closer to the dark creativity. Remus quickly pulled the former into a kiss.

Logan was the first to pull away, flushed red and smiling to himself. “I think I could get used to this.”

Remus grinned and took the scholar’s hand. “Me too, Lo. Me too.”

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #intrulogical #ts logan #ts remus #tw innuendo mention #tw swearing #tw implied ns/fw (but nothing happens)#hurt comfort #long post #sanders sides fanfiction #lucifer writes

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lifeofkaze · 3 years

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An Art of Balance #6

A/N: If anyone’s interested, the perfume Lizzie is wearing is one of my all-time favourites, Aqua di Gioia by Giorgio Armani. It’s really poorly described here because my olfactory recognition doesn’t go beyond ‘good’ and ‘bad’, but well. It’s divine though. Also, bear with me if sth astrological is wrong, this stuff is complicated! Katriona Cassiopeia (aka KC) belongs to my lovely friend @kc-needs-coffee

Word Count: ~ 2.100

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Chapter 6: A New Perspective

As it turned out, Orion’s decision to name Everett Hufflepuff’s new Beater had been the right one. He still had a way to go, but he immediately fell in line with the rest of the team. What he lacked in precision, he made up in strength.

Orion had taking his individual training on himself. As the team’s captain, he saw it as his personal responsibility to ensure every one of his teammates was able to reach his full potential. Everett was a fast learner, but it would take him a few more sessions to even be remotely able to hold a candle to the Ravenclaw Beaters.

Rath and Cassiopeia had been a well attuned team for many years now, both as skilled a Beater as they came. They would need any protection against them they could get, and the match against Ravenclaw was approaching fast.

Although Orion wasn’t the type of person to let his mind be clouded by worries, he had to admit he wasn’t entirely sure they could get Everett into proper form in time. He had been voicing his concerns to Lizzie the other day, during one of their tutoring sessions. If anyone knew what it took to become a Beater in a short amount of time it was her.

Lately, Orion had found himself looking forward to their meetings in the greenhouse, despite his already tightly packed schedule. It was refreshing to discuss their team matters with someone that didn’t flood him with a multitude of statistics for a change. Lizzie had a different approach to things than him, but they weren’t polar opposites like he and Skye. Exchanging views with her had provided him with a new impulse more than once.

In fact, he had come to enjoy her presence in general, even more so than before. They had always been friends but his knowledge about her had pretty much begun and ended at the Quidditch pitch. Seeing her outside team meetings and practise had allowed him to get to know other sides of her. He’d had no idea Lizzie had been part of the duelling club until last year. Or that Arithmancy was one of her favourite subjects. Or that she used a perfume smelling distinctively of jasmine and mint.

Orion had a harder time bonding with her friend Rowan. He hadn’t had any points of contact with her before he had started tutoring them. Now, several weeks later, he still knew hardly anything about her. She seemed to be exceptionally smart, but also equally as shy. Most of the time she would consult her textbook about the plants he tried to teach them about, while Lizzie paid it no mind, listening to his explanations instead.

Orion couldn’t help his impression that Rowan was struggling with his unconventional style of teaching. He didn’t refer to books more than he had to, rather letting his instinct and experience guide him.

Having trained with him for years, Lizzie knew his way of conveying knowledge was not always straightforward. Rowan, however, had a hard time letting go of protocol. She was clinging to the academic theory as if her life depended on it. Following the rules could help with a lot of problems, but she would never master the delicate nuances advanced Herbology had to offer, if she wasn’t willing to tread paths unknown to her.

“And what exactly is the difference between dried foxglove petals and desiccated foxglove petals?”

McNully snapped him out of his thoughts and back to where they were sitting in the Great Hall. It was study time and most of the students were gathered at their House tables, brooding over their homework.

They had been discussing their latest Potions essay, covering the effects sourcing methods had on the quality of ingredients.

“That is what we are supposed to illustrate, I believe.” Orion dipped his quill into the ink bottle they were sharing and tried to pick up where his wandering thoughts had let him off. His eyes wandered casually across the other Hufflepuff students lining their table.

It lingered where Skye and Lizzie were sitting. Lizzie was rapidly flicking through the pages of her textbook with a puzzled expression. Skye was talking insistently at her, looking equally as bewildered.

Several heads shot up as Lizzie audibly slammed her book shut and clambered off the bench. When Skye made no move to follow her, she jerked the other girl up off her seat and motioned with her head towards where he and McNully were sat.

They quietly walked towards the head of the Hufflepuff table. Seeing them approach, McNully reached for his wheelchair that was blocking the way. He moved it aside to allow the girls to join them. Orion smiled.

“What can we help you with?”

Wordlessly, Lizzie held up her copy of Unfogging the Future and slid into a seat between Murphy and him. She reopened the page she had been examining before and gave a frustrated sigh.

“I cannot tell you how much I hate Divination, I really can’t. You’re good at this, aren’t you?”

Orion supressed a smile. “So I am told. What bothers you in particular?”

“It’s those bloody birthstones,” Skye explained. “No matter how often we go over it, Lizzie and I always come to different results and we can’t find the mistake.”

They handed him their notes and Orion quickly gave them a check before returning them.

“That is because both choices are correct. There is more than one birthstone for each of the zodiac signs. You both chose the right stone for the right sign, but in different parts of the time span covered.”

Skye groaned in frustration, earning her a chiding glance from Professor Flitwick, who was supervising them today. “What do you mean, more than one? Why can’t this stuff be straightforward for once?”

“Everyone is different and such is reflected in the stones fortifying our inner strengths. Why should there be so little birthstones when there are so many traits to represent?”

Both girls looked at him with blank expressions.

Patiently, he flipped the pages to one of the star charts at the back of the book. “The astrological year is divided into the twelve zodiac signs. Each zodiac sign is subdivided into three decades, meaning a set of ten days. There are additional factors to consider, but simply put, there are three birthstones for each sign, representing one decade each. That is why you come to different conclusions, you didn’t factor in the time of the month.”

He contemplated telling them about the stones meant to counteract each signs weaknesses. But seeing Skye pinching the bridge of her nose, while was Lizzie trying to process what he had just said, muttering “I hate Divination” under her breath, he decided against it. Better not too much at once.

“How do you know all this nonsense?” Skye was shaking her head in disbelief.

“I know all this because it is explained in the introduction of the chapter you two apparently weren’t reading too diligently.” He turned the pages back to the beginning and pointed at the paragraph on the first page.

Lizzie’ cheeks flushed a bright read as she quickly scanned the text. “I can’t believe I overlooked this.” Embarrassed, she quickly snatched the book out of Orion’s hands and got up. “Thanks for helping anyway.”

They made their way back to their places, the scent of jasmine and mint lingering behind. Orion was always glad if he could help a friend. A few seats down the table, Lizzie was discussing what he had just told them with Skye. He thought back on what Penny and Murphy had said on the train ride to Hogwarts a few weeks earlier.

Lizzie really had changed a lot. She seemed to be standing taller, an air of effortless confidence around her. The blush on her cheeks had made her look really pretty, reminding him of how the rush of the wind brought the colour to her face when she was flying. She was moving differently as well, more graceful and fluently, her hips swaying ever so slightly with every step she took. He had never noticed her hips swaying like that before.

McNully nudged his shoulder. “Uhm, Orion… if you don’t want to rewrite your whole essay, I’d move my quill if I was you.”

He snapped out of it and looked down at his parchment. The ink was dripping from the tip of his quill, forming a large black puddle at the end of his last sentence that was quickly spreading onto the rest of his half-finished essay.

Orion cursed under his breath, immediately drawing his wand to vanish the excess ink. Fortunately not too much of his work was ruined.

McNully raised his eyebrows. “Such a strong language, my friend. I have only heard you curse three times, so far. One time was when you crashed your broom into the commentary box and broke your wrist, the second time when you forgot the time while broom balancing and almost missed your Defence Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. exam and the third time when you burned yourself on your cauldron and spilled Wiggenweld Potion all over Professor Snape. This reaction is 87,9 % surprising.”

He felt the heat creeping up his neck. McNully was right, he wasn’t easily enticed to displaying his emotions verbally. He hadn’t meant to let himself slip like that.

Choosing not to answer his curious friend, he committed himself to restoring the missing part of his essay. But McNully wouldn’t let it pass like that.

He was nodding in the direction of Lizzie. “I wonder if she knows how much attention she is attracting.”

Orion gripped his quill a little tighter, concentrating on finishing his sentence. He fought the urge to follow McNully’s gaze.

“Our friend has a captivating personality, for sure. But would you mind lifting the veil of ignorance from my eyes and tell me how you reached such a conclusion?”

For a moment, McNully smirked knowingly before he directed Orion’s attention over to where their roommates were sitting. He could easily make out what McNully had been referring to. Everett was eyeing the girls up without even trying to conceal it.

“Him, of course. He’s been checking Lizzie out ever since she came over to us.” He smiled innocently at him. “Why, who did you think I was talking about?”

Orion’s brow furrowed in concern. He didn’t like the predatory look on Everett’s face. This guy had somewhat of a reputation.

“Yeah, I don’t like the looks he’s giving her either,” McNully echoed his unspoken thoughts with a scowl. He leaned closer to him, putting his elbow on Orion’s shoulder in conspiratorial way. “I think we should do something about it, don’t you? And by ‘we’, I obviously mean ‘you’.”

Shaking off McNully’s hand, Orion gave him a disapproving look. “And why would I do that? He is our new Beater if you don’t recall.”

“For the sake of the team, of course!”

McNully started reciting his calculations. “I’d put the chance of him going for our little Chaser prodigy at roughly 80 %. There are some variables unaccounted for, but I’d say the chances of Lizzie falling for him lie at something around 54 %. Which would affect the team’s dynamic gravely. And we can’t have that decreasing our- I mean, your odds on winning the Quidditch Cup.”

Orion blew onto his parchment until the ink had properly dried. “You talk as if he was actually hitting her up. All he did was looking at her.”

And there was certainly nothing wrong with looking.

“Lizzie can fend for herself if need be. Besides, who am I to interfere with the course the heart is deciding to take.”

McNully looked at him as if he had lost his mind. “Mate… I don’t think the heart has much to with it if you get my drift. Seriously, do something.”

“Don’t worry, I will.” He stood up and handed Professor Flitwick his work of the day.

McNully raised one eyebrow at him. “And what would that be?”

Orion gathered his strewn books and notes. “Finding balance inside and outside of my mind, my dear friend. See you at dinner.”

#art of balance #lizzie jameson #orion amari #orion x mc #orion amari x mc #hphm #hogwarts mystery #skye parkin #murphy mcnully #quidditch #quidditch squad #the quidditch squad

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hphm-etched-engraved-everlasting · 4 years

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11. Clara

Author’s Note/Table of Contents

It wasn't the first time I trekked into the Forbidden Forest as the sun set below the horizon. With the sleepwalking curse prevailing over the student population in my fourth year came multiple trips into the Forest to not only locate the Vault, but also interact with some of the most dangerous and tame beasts that lived there. I should have been used to the prospect of going into the Forest every time we encountered trouble, but I was halted at one point by Professor Dumbledore and Mr. Filch, and was even delivered a year-long detention which put a damper on the triumph. I didn't want this trip to go to waste--especially since my life, my siblings' lives, and the lives of innocent agents were now at risk--and so I timed my excursion accordingly, glancing over my shoulder every so often to avoid getting caught.

The normal howling winds now brushed past in faint whispers, the hard-packed dirt beneath my feet concealed with leaves that had only begun to fall. The dense white fog greeted me as I delved deeper into the forest's open arms, and I tried to imagine that the tall trees were just providing a common shelter, protecting all that called the forest its home. Before long, the school faded out of sight, hidden behind the mist...and that was when I heard the sound of familiar hooves approaching me, trotting over the ground.

I didn't have to rub my eyes to recognize the all-too-familiar Centaur.

"Thanks for meeting me, Torvus," I greeted him with a wave.

Torvus grinned upon seeing me, his eyes brightening. "I am happy to indulge the human who returned my herd's arrowhead and helped bring an end to my exile," he simply told me, nodding. "Were you able to defeat the dragon in the Cursed Vault and break the curse trapping the students in the portraits?"

I haven't forgotten how Torvus helped train me and Merula to fight a beast as strong as the Hungarian Horntail in the Vault. Honestly, I was happy I was able to return alive, though I knew the child that wondered about Jacob's whereabouts had been all but left behind, brutally destroyed.

"Yes. Thanks to your advice about working together, we were able to subdue the dragon and break the curse," I answered. "Unfortunately, none of us were prepared for our professor, Rakepick, betraying us in the Vault. We managed to make it out, but..."

Teamwork wasn't always what made the dream work. Trust could only go so far before someone decided to reveal their true intentions, destroying what trust we had.

A family, Rakepick called us. A family that tore apart so mercilessly at the seams.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Torvus finally said.

Even that sounded weak to my ears.

"What of your brother? Did you manage to find him?" Torvus eventually asked.

"I did, but he left shortly after to chase after Rakepick," I explained. "I hardly got to speak with him. In a way, it seemed less painful when he was stuck in the portrait, back in the buried Vault. At least then he didn't have the choice of avoiding me if he ever saw me." I sighed and buried my hands in my pockets. "Now I don't know if I'll ever see him the same way again, or bring him back to our family."

Silence ensued for a moment, my heart pounding at the thought of feeling vulnerable to a beast that could potentially kill me in a heartbeat. Tears almost welled at the thought of bringing this new Jacob home to my family--to my mother, publicly disgraced; to my father, fragile when it came to his only son; to my sister, who barely remembered him. It was all the Cursed Vaults could do to permanently change our family dynamic. I couldn't see what our family would be like now with Jacob acting like this.

"...I'm sorry, Clara," Torvus finally said. "I know what it's like to be abandoned by those who mean the most to you."

Yes, Jacob abandoned me. Yes, he brought this upon us--this misfortune, this humiliation. But I looked up at Torvus and remembered all that he had been through whilst I was still in a position of hope. He was cast out of his herd for losing the arrowhead, and never heard from them in his exile. When we first met, he travelled alone, operated alone. My family was abandoned by choice, but Torvus was abandoned by tradition, by law.

"I know you do," I murmured. "In fact, I think you had it worse, Torvus. Your whole family shunned you, after all--I can't imagine how painful and hard that must have been."

"But we're together now. That's all that matters," Torvus reassured me, his smile returning in an attempt to comfort me. "And I hope you're able to have a proper reunion with your brother, too."

Not just me--my entire family. It was all I could think of to make sure he comes back safe and sound.

"Thanks, Torvus."

Torvus nodded, somewhat content. "You're welcome. But I imagine you didn't come here just to catch up."

He had a point. I rarely came by here just to say hello to Torvus and interact with him like a friend.

"You're right," I said, heaving a heavy sigh. "I came here because--"

"Another curse has been unleashed at Hogwarts and you came to consult with me."

"Yes." I nodded in shock, a little surprised he'd say that. Had my pattern become this predictable now? "A student's recently been Petrified--how did you know?"

"You only seek me out when you need help with something related to the vaults or your brother," Torvus responded, a hint of obviousness in his voice. "I didn't have to divine the future to see that coming."

"Ha-ha," I grunted. "Though funny you mention Divination, because that's why I came."

Now Torvus looked intrigued, and he tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

"My Divination professor, Trelawney, gave me an ominous sounding prophecy earlier today," I told him, swallowing the phlegm that gathered in my throat. "And I don't have a lot of clues as to what or where the final Cursed Vault is located--just a coral key...and the Petrified student I found looked rather similar to the merperson trident I found in the last Cursed Vault. If this prophecy is related to the final Cursed Vault and this new curse, deciphering it could provide potential answers."

"And you came to me for help because you heard that Centaurs were especially good at Divination," Torvus finished.

"Correct." I chuckled at how quickly we were able to clear this issue--though I was thoroughly surprised at how predictable I've become. "Are you sure you didn't divine the heavens before I came?"

"I didn't have to. Humans can be very predictable," Torvus responded. "Now tell me what this prophecy is. I'll see if I can provide further insight."

So I told him. I told him about the murky water, final endings, changes swirling around me, paying ultimate prices--just about the same thing I told the Weasleys, and my sister and her friend back in the library earlier today. Of course, with this task just dumped on him without prior warning, Torvus didn't seem as prepared to decipher it as anyone back in the library. He kept muttering about consulting the heavens and wishing he had sage and mallowsweet with him--this didn't sound like a good sign.

I couldn't blame him, though. Even Centaurs had their limits when it came to Divination. Gifts that they were given at birth could only become skills if carefully nurtured and practised. Some were just able to master it quicker than others, or had practised the skill more. Either way, I knew Torvus was trying his best. I couldn't push him to stretch beyond his limits.

"I'm sorry, Clara. This prophecy is beyond my capabilities," Torvus eventually said after a long while, shaking his head and pawing his hoof to the ground. "This Professor Trelawney must either be truly gifted or truly fake."

I almost snorted at that one--in either case, it would make deciphering the prophecy a complete waste of time. Still, I suppose sometimes prophecies were solely made to be cloudy, and wouldn't make any sense unless it passed.

"Thanks anyway, Torvus," I responded with a sigh. "It's fine. I guess I'll just wait in the dark until some miracle comes around."

"There are a few members of my herd who might be able to help, though. They are more gifted in Divination than I--masters of astrology who use mallowsweet and sage to refine their findings," Torvus suggested. "They might be able to help you gain further insight into your prophecy."

At least there was still that possibility. I had to be able to score it in order to get closer to some sort of clue.

"That's great. If it'll help me find the last Cursed Vault before Rakepick and lead me to my brother, I'll have to speak to the other Centaurs!" I decided.

Torvus, however, shook his head and frowned. "It might not be easy," he warned me. "Most refuse to get this close to human settlements. And humans, with the exception of Hagrid and a few others, aren't welcome into the Centaur Camp at all."

Ah. Of course, with every proposition, there had to be a catch.

"Is there any way I can convince the herd to let me visit the Camp?" I asked him.

"I can try to vouch for you, but I was only recently accepted back into the camp. My word might not mean much," Torvus said, hanging his head sadly. "But if you can find and present suitable offerings for them, they might be able to consider it."

"Offerings? Like what?" I asked.

"Anything that shows that you understand and respect the herd and culture," Torvus said. "But I can't tell you anything more than that. Everything must come genuinely from you. If the herd finds out I helped you, they'll reject your offering, forbid you from visiting the camp and likely exile me all over again."

Well, that's not good. I don't want to do anything that could potentially get anyone else hurt. The vision of the Petrified student's eyes flashed before me and I almost stumbled back in shock. I knew I had to work quickly, but where could I start?

"I have faith in you, Clara," Torvus finally said. "Trust your instincts--they'll serve you well."

Trust my instincts? That sounded exactly like the advice I gave Jae when we first explored the Ice Vault corridor together searching for Scabbers, Percy's pet rat. He remarked that instincts always lead him to trouble, but instincts could lead to something good, too.

And if my instincts were right, then I knew exactly where to go first.

#yay torvus!!#hphm spoilers #year 6 spoilers #hogwarts mystery #hphm clara lin #hphm torvus #statue curse #etched engraved everlasting

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theparanormalperiodical · 4 years

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17 Ways To Predict The Future That You Can Do For FREE (#8 Will Have You Shook - And I Should Know, I Totally Saw It Via Augury)

It was 8.57pm on a Wednesday night. I was sitting on my bed, waiting for the microwave to let me know my lasagne is ready, and that’s when I first heard it.

Silence.

Day 2 of UK lockdown was nearly over, but the tidal wave of boredom - and the consequential existential crises - was set to hit the nation at any moment if it hadn’t already.

Amazon orders of ‘watercolour kits for beginners’ had surged, YouTube workouts I’m pretty sure were filmed in some murderer’s basement were clogging up YouTube's trending page, and returning to the dark side of Duolingo was filling the days of my fellow countrymen.

Whether it’s not being able to work, losing your job, or being sick with the virus yourself, people across the globe are on the hunt for new skills, hobbies, and how-to’s on filling the 24 hours.

The thing is, your next hobby (the one you will inevitably ditch once you realise you have the artistic ability of a dented tin of tuna) will probably require items you can’t scavenge in the home you’re currently self-isolating in.

And God forbid the skill you decide to take up includes making self-expressive sculptures about your childhood with toilet paper.

Why not take up a skill that doesn’t require paint pots you will inevitably spill on the carpet and lie to your landlord about? Why not occupy your time with the occult, instead?

Of course - you should become a fortune-teller!

With 44 methods of predicting the future available and most of them requiring, well, nothing - or, at the very least, a handful of beans and maybe the odd animal sacrifice - trying and testing methods of seeing need not use up your time, nor the scraps left in your cupboards.

And once you’ve fulfilled your destiny as a prophet, why not let us know when this pandemic will be over?

But before you’ve even learnt to read palms, and before you’ve even considered how Mercury’s retrograde will affect the heaviness of your next period, you should probably find out what the methods are, and which ones you can do with half a tin of bins and the protein powder from last year when Love Island shamed you into thinking you weren’t good enough.

(Bro, you totally are.)

That’s why I’ve decided to guide you in the next step your spiritual journey. Or at least keep you busy for the next 79 minutes. And given the current state of the world, the latter is far more precious.

But before I launch into the 17 different ways you can trace out your future in self-isolation, I thought we should actually know what fortune tellers are.

A Brief And Totally Ironic History Of Predicting The Future

*pushes glasses up nose*

Fortune telling is defined as the principle of predicting the future events of someone’s life. There are many different types of the practice and the people that predict the future, from those that practice divination (which involves rituals to see into the future), to fortune telling (which takes place in a less formal setting and is far more symbol based).

The latter found its feet in the Renaissance era, and was firmly planted in Romani culture, explaining why gypsy fortune tellers are the most prevalent image representing the art. In fact, it was ol’ Nostradamus that made his name in this period.

Michel de Nostrodame was a typical 16th century Frenchman.

Only he spent his time working in apothecaries, predicting the future, and writing down what he claimed would happen. In total, he made 6338 prophecies and 11 annual calendars, and it’s one of these prophecies which has become rather relevant to 2020.

That is, it predicts the end of the world. And it’s kind of coming true.

Nevertheless, the once forbidden art of predicting the future has been founded in our cultures since ancient times.

Astrology was the OG, setting the trend that would spark the uncountable practices currently in practice. Those that could predict the future - whether from their own abilities as prophets, or using systems as clairvoyants - had a strong political stance as prominent advisors.

Obviously, the role has lost respect over the years.

However, the practice faced their greatest amount of opposition during the Enlightenment era as reason began to prevail, ditching superstition. Once it had become, like, so uncool, it became cool again in the 19th century alongside the rise of Spiritualism - AKA dead people can talk to us, k - which tied the capabilities of mediums with those that could see the future.

This was the root of popular culture’s current approach to today’s soothsayers, a relationship sealed with the New Age culture of the 1960s.

Getting your palm read, or having a flick through some tarot cards became a tradable commodity during this decade. And an odd 30 years later, the term ‘psychic’ officially hit the scene.

Psychics were people that utilised ESP (Extra Sensory Perception) to identify extra sensory information we normal mortals can’t quite detect. Often, this involves telepathy or clairvoyance to assist in their predictive skills.

So - are you ready to join the ranks?

*Throws sticks onto floor to find answer*

Here Are The 17 Ways You Can Predict The Future Even If You’re In Lockdow

Aeromancy

Divination that uses the weather to predict the future

Go outside. Look up. Look for symbols in the sky.

Boom - you’ve just practiced one of the oldest forms of divination to man.

In less stuttered terms, aeromancy is the practice of seeing symbols in the weather that point you to what’s happening in your life right now, and what will happen in the future. Most of these practices rely on this symbolism, and thus have a few explanations for certain types of weather-based events.

Not only is this one of the simplest - and least costly - ways to predict when the lockdown will end, it also makes you a bad bitch. And that’s because it was one of the forbidden arts in the Renaissance period.

Once you’ve discovered your inner rebel when getting your daily quota of vitamin D, you might wish to specialise in one of the sub-types of this art: you can investigate storms, peruse wind patterns, stare at the stars or keep it simple with clouds.

Astrology

Divination by the movements of celestial bodies.

Okay - this one’s gonna take some reading.

Finding out your horoscope these days is as easy as mispelling ‘Gemini’ in google and hoping you don’t end up on a website dodgier than that kebab you consumed 3 days ago.

(Just hasn’t quite settled in my stomach, yet.)

Astrology is a pseudoscience - that is, it mixes sciences and the supernatural - which studies how the position of the celestial bodies impact events here on Earth. It might be mocked within an inch of its life, but it's figured prominently throughout history.

Going back to 2BC, this has designed the basis of our calendars and our seasons. Historically, cultures have assigned vital importance to astronomical events of note. And now you can too!

Astrology these days focuses merely on horoscopes as astrologers believed those born around the same time of the year when the planets were aligned in a similar way had a lot in common and thus had certain personalities. From there, individual predictions created in the forms of charts were brought to the table.

Finding your chart might be a simple feat thanks to the internet, but interpreting it? Whole ‘nother ball game.

And that’s what you’re going to do for the next 3 hours!

Numerology

Divination via numbers

As with all methods of divination, numerology has a variety of sub-types held to its name - but the basic definition is the practice of assigning spiritual value to numbers. This typically focuses on numerical patterns.

One of the more basic methods of seeing the future, numerology is actually more anchored in our culture than you’d expect. Pythagoras - yeah, that guy that forced you to spend two sevenths of your teenage years obsessed with triangles - even followed its basic principle, claiming numbers were a universal language offered by god(s) as a “confirmation of truth”.

Triangles, man.

This started with the Ancient Egyptians, who believed life was made up of cycles of numbers, and that harnessing those cycles was how you could discover your key to success. Their fundamental claim was that each individual number has a personality, for example, the number 7 is the thinker or the searcher of truth.

By deducing key facts of your life with numerology, such as your date of birth, and what you should do on the different days of the months, navigating your future via numbers is your next hobby.

Augury

Divination via the pattern of bird flight

As I write this post, I am following the UK government’s guidance to only go outside once a day. You’d think that this would restrict access to this form of fortune-telling, but if you can get to a window, you’re ready to forecast major world events.

Birds have always featured prominently in cultures, with many belief systems claiming the animals are messengers from the gods and can even transcend the borders of heaven. This means if you want to try your hand at augury, you will have to consult ancient texts which outline the patterns you need to be looking for.

And there’s a lot of patterns to look for.

You could be investigating how fast they fly, you could be interpreting the movement of their flight, and you could even be considering the way birds eat if you chuck a handful of grain on the floor.

Evidently, this form of divination is best practiced at Brighton when you’ve got a bag of chips in one hand, and an unknown meat-like substance in the other.

Automatic Writing

Divination via writing

This one might be the easiest to do - but it's the most difficult to do right.

Pen? Check. Paper? Check. Access to the inner thoughts of spirits surrounding you? You’ll need all three to correctly practice this form of clairvoyance.

Many believe that otherworldly beings essentially write through you in this process. So, clear your mind, take a deep breath, and let your hand be guided.

Bibliomancy

Divination using books

Another simple form of fortune telling, this requires you opening a book to a random page, reading the paragraph you feel drawn to, and interpreting the message the gods are clearing letting you in on.

Bibles are the most popular book used for this practice, but any ol’ book will do.

Ceromancy and Capnomancy

Divination using candles

If, like me, you have a minor addiction to candles, this is the perfect pastime to enjoy the pleasant experience of burning a candle and predicting your future.

The former requires you asking the, uh, candle a question, pouring melted wax from a candle into the water and interpreting the shapes of the cooled wax to find your answer.

The latter involves the interpretation of the smoke of the candle. As this is measured in the same way as interpreting the clouds, you can follow the same principles of aeromancy here, too.

Palmistry

Divination via hands

One of the most famous forms of telling the future, palmistry follows several simple principles and practices. You can read hand shape, you can investigate line reading… And the options don’t stop there.

From more general observations of your own, to more specific divination, all it requires is a hand, and a guide to reading that hand.

Scrying

Divination using mirrors or crystal balls

It’s the official mascot of telling the future - but you don’t need a crystal ball to master this art. In fact, using a mirror to open a portal to another realm and contacting the spirits is far more common.

It’s also far more dangerous due to the potential for negative spirits to cross the barrier into our realm. In fact, that’s how Bloody Mary really made her name.

You can read more about her story here.

Favomancy

Divination using beans or peas

Are you a selfish prat? Were you one of those people that panic bought everything in my local Waitrose, and left shit all for that old guy who just staggered past me?

A - fuck you. And B - this is your new hobby!

All you really need to tell the future is a can of beans, and an open mind. With its origins in the Middle East, by dropping a handful of beans or peas and interpreting how they fell, you can see how the next few weeks might just pan out.

It might follow a complex set of rules, and it might follow very precise principles, but nevertheless, it can help point out the favourable and unfavourable signs for your future.

Haruspicy

Divination via liver dissection

This is by far one of the simplest methods of fortune telling - trust me.

First, you sacrifice an animal to a deity of your choice. Second, you reach into its corpse, and rip out its liver with your bare hands.

Then, you sever the liver into several parts based on deities of your choice. From there, you’d investigate it for signs from the gods based on size, shape, colour, and texture.

Signs interpreted, messages understood, future predicted.

*drops mic into small intestine*

Iching

Divination via yarrow stalks and Chinese coins

This might be the most complicated method of divination on this list, and this might cost the most as you try to get yarrow sticks by next day delivery, but thanks to websites offering to carry out the process for you virtually, finding your future might actually be the most effortless.

Harness the power of ancient Chinese divination via the I Ching (AKA The Book Of Changes) and the principle of cleromancy, the production of random numbers to determine messages from the divine.

This ancient Chinese manual is based on 8 symbolic trigrams and 64 hexagrams which are interpreted in terms of yin and yang...

Okay. I’ll be honest.

I don’t really know what’s going on.

There’s some vegetables, there’s some loose change involved, there’s more yin and yang references than the first day of Coachella… All I know is you find a website that does all that for you, and you ask it a question.

Moleosophy

Divination using the moles on your body

Live in an urban area? More chance of seeing a fox hump a Chicken Cottage box than the Big Dipper?

Then why not try your hand at reading the moles on your skin?

This system of divination assigns significance to your moles, allowing you to interpret the marks on your body as warning you of your future. And warning is the right word.

Got a mole on your throat? You’ve more chance of being beheaded than Damien’s family members in The Omen. Freckle on your nether-regions? You’re a god-forsaken whore.

There’s many more meanings left to be unlocked - and hopefully not all of them are negative attributes about yourself or your death.

Oneiromancy

Divination of dreams

Ever wondered what that dream you had, you know, the one with Gabriella from High School Musical saying all the old people should just die from Covid-19, cause, like, it’s inevitable, actually meant?

Well now you can!

With more online guides and overpriced books offering to analyse and interpret your dreams for you, accessing your subconscious and predicting future events has never been easier. But you will need to remember what actually happened in your dreams.

Fuck.

Cartomancy

Divination using cards

Couldn’t get Prime delivery on your tarot cards? Have a knack for solitaire?

Pull out your pack of playing cards, and use ‘em to guide your future. There are many rules you need to follow, but it’s a good way to practice your divination skills before you move onto other oracle based cards.

It even follows the similar principle of tarot, with each card having a different meaning, e.g. the 8 and Hearts represents an unexpected gift or a visit.

And if you give up, just play a game of Clock Patience!

Scapulimancy

Divination via bones

Still got the carcass of that animal you slaughtered in the name of your chosen god/goddess?

Good.

Reach into the body, and pull out the shoulder blade bones - aka the scapulae. Examine for messages and markings from your chosen god/goddess, and jot down the future events you predict on your calendar.

Then, check out your council website to see which day they take out the sacrificial goat bin.

Tasseomancy

Divination using tea leaves

It’s the pop culture representative for the occult, making its name in the Harry Potter films and leaving us all with the vile experience of coughing up tea leaves into your morning.

It might be one of the most accessible forms of fortune telling - especially as it is primarily based on symbolism and your own interpretation of the messages your favoured god has left in the dregs of your hot drink - but tea leaves must be used for this practice.

Tea from tea bags won’t have the same effect.

Which One Are You Trying Out Tonight?

Leave me a comment and let me know. Or will I know already?

Fancy seeing a weekly article on horror films/the occult/ghost stories/all of the above? Also want to hear a new real ghost story everyday? Follow this blog and join the fam.

Read this post next.

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hereticaloracles · 5 years

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Asteroid Files: Psyche

Helios on Psyche: Hey, so this one was one studied by my teacher, the incomparable Karen from Ravenesque Tarot. She no longer practices, but I did preserve and build on top of her work. It didnt seem right to retrod old ground so here is her take, unedited and unchanged. All credit to her. She was the one who set me on the path of minor planets and asteroids, so her influence on me is massive.

Without further ado….

SCIENCE

Asteroid 16 Psyche is massive in size and her weight is one percent of the entire main asteroid belt. Discoveries have shown that she is completely metallic and has no water components whatsoever. It is also claimed that her massive size does affect the other asteroids in an uneasy manner. Discovered on March 17, 1852 (a Pisces) by Annibale de Gasparis, Psyche spends near five years orbiting the Sun, spending roughly three or so months in each sign, orbit dependent.

MYTHOLOGY

The mythology of Cupid and Psyche, Amor and Psyche, Eros and Psyche, has become legendary and it is the common archetype of many the romance and romantic expectations. Psyche was mortal and beautiful, the perfect creature and the complete envy of Venus. Completely jealous, Venus finally convinces her son Cupid, to cast his magic over Psyche so that only the ugliest and vilest of creatures would find her attractive. Turning himself invisible, Cupid flies to her whilst she is sleeping and takes pity on her, feeling she has been born too beautiful for her own safety. Still prepared to fulfill his task, he leans over and to his surprise, she wakes up and stares him straight in the eye. Despite his invisibility, she sees him and in his shock, rather than scratch her shoulder with his arrow, he scratches his and falls madly in love with her. From this moment on, he cannot continue his mission and reports back to his mother, Venus, who is furious and casts a curse on Psyche. It was final, there would be no husband for Psyche and Cupid brought about his own retribution in his disgust, with the refusal to shoot any more arrows of love. As the Earth starts to grow old due to the lack of marriages and mating, Venus finally rescinds and reluctantly gives into Cupid’s demands. He wants Psyche for himself, end of story.

Despaired at the lack of mortal male interest in marrying their daughter, Psyche’s parents consult an oracle to see what the holdup is. They are told to take Psyche to a mountain top, where she is swept away by the west wind and taken to Cupid’s palace. Here, the marriage is consummated and hot love is made under the cover of darkness, with Cupid’s insistence that Psyche never leave the lights on. He wanted his identity kept quiet until he was ready to reveal his true form. On returning from a visit with her two sisters, Psyche was told by her sisters that her husband was a repugnant serpent and that she should see for herself by lighting up the room at night. She took their words on board, fired up the lantern, and saw her gorgeous, winged God. Pissed off at her defiance of his wishes to maintain the secrecy of his identity until HE was ready, Cupid takes off into the shadows, never to return.

Thus begins Psyche’s journey to find the love of her life. After seeking assistance from Ceres and Juno, who both tell her that she must face Venus, she runs about like a mouse in a wheel, fulfilling the impossible quests set forth by the furious Goddess. Thanks to the assistance of the other Gods and Goddesses, she passes her quests until the very last one – taking a piece of beauty in a box from Persephone to Venus. Not able to resist, Psyche opens the box to take a slice of beauty’s pie all for her but finds no beauty, just sleep, which rushes over her immediately.

Cupid rushes to her side, finally finding forgiveness within and brushes the sleep away. It is then that Cupid faces Jupiter with their plight and after a big meeting of the Gods and Goddesses, Psyche is brought to Olympus and partakes in the magic drink of ambrosia and becomes an immortal. Over time, and after the birth of their daughter, Venus and Psyche forgive each other and there is happiness ever after.

Apart from the intricate and romantic mythology/fairytale -Psyche means, spirit, breath, animation of life and her form is portrayed as a Goddess with butterfly wings and she is the deification of the human soul.

ASTROLOGY

To locate asteroid 16 Psyche in your natal chart, head over to astro.com and input the number 16 in the additional objects field. Keep your aspects major – conjunction, square, opposition – and your orbs tight, within 1 degree.

In the natal chart, Psyche symbolizes so many things. You have the romantic, you have the dedication to the one you fall in love with, you have the running through hoops to prove that love and you have the harsh feminine figure that is jealous and manipulative, a standing force of disruption on the path of love. The problem with Cupid and Psyche is his attempts to keep his true self a secret. The first crack in that desire started during the task of casting his magic when Psyche woke up and saw through his invisibility. She also took on-board gossip and went against his wishes, exposing him once again, cutting through everything he had in play, seeing him, despite his efforts to maintain the facade of his life role. He is displeased with this, annoyed with her and there is turmoil, but ultimately, the process to the end is worth it as everything comes out in the wash and there IS a happily ever after.

Individuals with natal aspects to Psyche have the natural ability to see through the surface garbage with new attractions. They are in search for ‘the’ individual, where the complexities of the attraction are intricate, where there are huge forces to surmount and toils to be dealt with to find that moment of pure, passionate love. When this connection is found, there is turmoil at the beginning and much heartache involved. Yet the Psyche individual will refuse to give up, much to the annoyance of everyone else and continue to fight for the happy ending that they know is well deserved. The good thing about the natal Psyche individual is that they do gain support with their unwavering dedication within their quest to find their true lover. Whilst they face resistant from some level of parental, or authority figure, there is also the hands of guidance from those they meet on their quest. Despite the difficulties attached to natal Psyche, it is a mind blowing and ‘fated’ path to love.

In transit however, it can be a bit creepy, dependent on rulership. Everything and all of the above can apply with transiting Psyche, but only works when the feeling is mutual. Meetings whilst Psyche is on the move can have a one-sided element, where one party feels fated and the other does not. This obviously opens the door wide for stalker types and can become quite messy. Individuals can misread ‘fate’ and continue to bash their heads against a closed to romance door. By ignoring the obvious resistance and failing to take on-board the lack of support they are receiving in their chase of the disappearing individual matters naught, they continue, convinced they are meant to be together. Obviously, this leads to continued romantic discontent and where the planets and relevant aspects would unravel more detail regards these matters.

Another element of consideration with Psyche is that of the affair expression – entering into a romantic relationship where one, or both of the parties is already committed. There is the obvious excitement of the unknown, the clandestine darkness, the harsh, negative reaction from other parties, gossip, and more often than not, strong feelings beneath the surface attraction that can lead to a more permanent commitment at a later stage.

In considering your personal manifestation of transiting Psyche, look at romantic connections when Psyche is in Scorpio, your 10th House or the Nodes and Nodal rulers. These connections have a ‘fated’ feel about them and even if they fail to have all of the vital elements for long term connection, they are gateways for following, more placid connections with transiting Psyche.

All in all, Psyche transits are a fine indicator that it is a positive to open the door to love, or to peel another layer off your present romance. Especially when in favorable rulership. It is a great time to connect with romantic others on deeper levels and to reassess the ‘love’ agenda – decide what aspects of your approach and expression need a breath of fresh life.

Possible Keywords:- love, romance, dedication to a lover, fidelity, relationship challenges, emotional game playing, true love, rising above challenges to achieve relationship connection, relationship trials, hiding elements of self from your lover, unrealistic love expectations, fairytale romance, potential stalker, refusing to let go of past lovers

Asteroid Files: Psyche was originally published on Heretical Oracles

#astrology #tarot #asteroid astrology #fuckstrology #bruja #brujeria

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thefederalistfreestyle · 5 years

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What “Hamilton” in San Juan Means to Puerto Rico (The New Yorker):

Last Friday evening, as spectators streamed into the Centro de Bellas Artes Luis A. Ferré, San Juan’s main performing-arts center, a man in a Colonial waistcoat, breeches, and cravat spoke into a microphone in the plaza. “We want everybody to join this fight for Puerto Rico to become the fifty-first state,” he said. He was joined by about a dozen demonstrators from the pro-statehood group Sociedad Civil Estadista, holding signs that said “We Want to Be in the Room Where It Happens” and “We Are Not Throwing Away Our Shot.” “Alexander Hamilton was a good man,” the speaker continued. “He was one of the Founding Fathers. He was an intellectual author of this nation. So thank you, everyone, and welcome to Puerto Rico.”

Across the plaza—and across the island’s political spectrum—a Ph.D. student named Zorimar Rivera Montes stood beside steel barricades wearing a backpack. “My doctoral dissertation is partly on ‘Hamilton’ and its politics,” she said. She didn’t have a ticket but was hoping that something would turn up. Rivera Montes was raised with an “anti-colonial upbringing,” she said, and supports Puerto Rican independence. The opening-night spectacle, she observed, was “laced with so many ironies. Hamilton was born in the Caribbean. And now we have his ghost coming back to the Caribbean. He was the founder of the American debt system, right?” She went on: “I’m very curious to see how a Puerto Rican audience connects to the story of Alexander Hamilton. Hamilton is big in the U.S., because that’s your forefather.” Her friend Gisela Rosario Ramos added dryly, “There’s a new Founding Father: Lin-Manuel Miranda.”

How did a bastard, orphan son of a whore and a Scotsman get dropped in a bruised-but-not-forgotten spot in the Caribbean, sixteen months after Hurricane Maria devastated the island? It all had to do with Miranda, the show’s Pulitzer Prize-winning author and star, who was returning to the title role on a tide of good will, for the first time since leaving the Broadway production, in 2016. In the wake of the hurricane, which knocked out the island’s power grid and caused some three thousand deaths, Miranda has become a tireless fund-raiser and champion for Puerto Rico, where his father was born and where he spent summers as a child. He released a charity single and helped raise forty-three million dollars in relief funds. He urged people to “keep Puerto Rico in your hearts” from the red carpet of the Academy Awards. And he currently appears in a Web series from the tourism outfit Discover Puerto Rico. Around the island, pretty much everyone referred to him as Lin-Manuel.

[. . .]

Luis Miranda was one of the driving forces behind bringing “Hamilton” to Puerto Rico. The original plan was to stage it at the University of Puerto Rico’s Río Piedras campus, driving money and attention to an institution that needed some love in a neighborhood far from the tourist center of San Juan.

But the well-intentioned plan fell apart just before Christmas, after talk spread of possible demonstrations over staff-budget cuts. A practice of restricting police presence on campus raised security concerns. The producers scrambled to move the show to Bellas Artes, a Lincoln Center-like facility in Santurce, a neighborhood described by one resident as “the hot-shit center of hip San Juan living.”

Luis Miranda told me that the last straw, for him, came when he ran into three students after a production meeting. “One of them says, ‘Oh, yeah, we have dedicated entire classes to discuss if this is good for the University of Puerto Rico or not.’ ” He blanched. “I’m listening to this discussion, and I’m thinking, Is this for real? I remember looking at one of the kids and saying, ‘You know what? We made the right decision to come to Puerto Rico. We made the wrong decision of going to the U.P.R. theatre.’ ”

Although “Hamilton” poured more than a million dollars into renovating the university theatre, there was still disappointment on campus. Sylvia Bofill, who teaches playwriting and dramatic history there, told me, “The impression of students was, they felt somehow it was going to be more approachable, that they were going to be able to see the play.” (A thousand of the ten thousand lottery tickets were set aside for students.) “I think, at the end, it was a loss both for the university and the production. It would have been great for the students to have a forum with Lin-Manuel to ask questions about the controversy.”

The day before the première, outdated “Hamilton” banners still hung around campus. Classes had not started, so there were more stray cats than students in the main quad. Near the theatre, I spotted a young woman with curly hair painting a bench with the word “humanidades.” She had specks of white paint on her cheek, and introduced herself as María Rosa López, a science student.

“It’s complicated,” she said, of the “Hamilton” drama. Her English was spotty, so her friend Christopher Pacheco, who was helping her paint, translated. “They should have consulted at least with the students,” he said. “The government is saying it’s the workers’ union’s fault. They didn’t want a protest here, so they moved the play. But they weren’t going to protest. It was just an excuse. The government wants to close the university down.”

When I asked why, López reverted to English. “They don’t want people to get educated.”

Pacheco added, “Education here is not good. They’re closing a lot of public schools.” Tuition has gone up, they noted, to a hundred and fifteen dollars per credit. “The costs have only gone higher, and the buildings are deteriorating,” Pacheco said.

A clocktower rang, and they returned to painting.

Around Bellas Artes, “Hamilton” fever had taken hold. At Lote 23, a food-truck park near the theatre, venders had seen cast and crew members stop by. The guy at the alcapurria stand knew the exact hours of their lunch breaks, and a woman who worked at the fried-chicken place had taken a selfie with Lin-Manuel two days earlier.

[. . .]

By six o’clock, the plaza was packed: camera crews, ticket-lottery winners, demonstrators, the Hamilton historian Ron Chernow, V.I.P.s in suits and cocktail dresses. Zorimar Rivera Montes, the Ph.D. student, pointed out David Bernier, a former candidate for governor of Puerto Rico. She was skeptical of all the hoopla. Like others I met, she had been irked by Miranda’s initial support for Promesa, the act establishing the financial-oversight board. He has since recanted and endorsed debt forgiveness over debt relief.

But something else was nagging at Rivera Montes. As she e-mailed me a few days later, after scoring a ticket, “The play is as catchy and fun as I remembered the soundtrack to be, but watching a celebration of the American Revolution on Puerto Rican soil felt nothing short of perverse. I find it is colonialist that we have to be thankful to Miranda for whatever crumbs of help he throws our way.”

I spoke to Dan Santiago, the pro-statehood speaker in Colonial garb. (He had bought it at a costume shop in Florida, where he relocated after the hurricane.) Hadn’t Hamilton fought to overthrow imperial rule? “That’s something that people talk about,” he said, “but what’s important in democracy is the will of the people. The independence movement in Puerto Rico doesn’t gain more than three per cent of the votes. I’m pretty sure that, when Hamilton wrote the Federalist Papers, he was trying to convince everybody that this new form of government was going to be the best thing for the colonies. And it was so good that it became the most powerful nation on the face of the earth. That’s the nation that we want to be part of.”

Suddenly, there was a screech from the middle of the plaza. It came from Gustavo Rosa, a seventeen-year-old from Toa Alta. He had been taking a picture with the show’s producer, Jeffrey Seller, when his high-school theatre director surprised him with a ticket. Immediately, camera crews descended on him.

“I’ve been taking musical theatre for seven years now,” he said, shaking. “I’m exhilarated. Oh, my God.”

[. . .]

Alternating between English and Spanish, he fielded questions about the ovation at the top of the show (“I felt my hair move”); about the security concerns at the university (“If there’s the slightest chance something goes wrong, I cannot have that on my conscience”); about his reading from the celebrity astrologer Walter Mercado (“I know the future, but I’m not going to tell you”); about his first visit after the hurricane (“To see an island without leaves—I never thought I’d see winter in Puerto Rico”). He said that “Hamilton” would bring people to Puerto Rico to spend money, “but they’re also going to see blue tarps, and they’re also going to see how much is left to be done.”

A reporter asked, “What spoke to you tonight, as you were standing there for the first time here in Puerto Rico?”

Miranda answered, in Spanish, that “Hurricane” had been particularly emotional—he hadn’t been able to get through it in rehearsal. The line about the silence in the eye of the storm had reminded him of what members of the Puerto Rican diaspora had felt during Maria, not being able to reach family and friends. “That quiet,” he said, slipping back into English. “That terror.” Then he said something everyone could agree on: “That’s the thing about this show: you put it at this angle, and suddenly you see different things come out.”

full article here

#hamilton #lin manuel miranda #puerto rico #ham4pr #and peggy tour #the new yorker

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only-sunday · 5 years

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Let me give you a little back ground into who I actually am besides the already established manic-depressive (perfectionist was also discussed in therapy today. yay.) and you know.. a Leo.

So I am exactly two weeks away from the ripe old age of 22 years old. I was born in a small town just outside of Newcastle where i spent my life growing right up until my 19th birthday when I got really, really drunk and decided that moving to the Gold Coast in Queensland would be a “really sick idea dude!”, so I pilled my childhood bedroom into my trusty Corolla and off I went. I began my year here deferring my online uni degree in public relations (a degree I had decided on doing in a round about way a real long time before actually starting) to get settled in my new place which quickly turned into not wanting to go back to online study at all and instead I applied for an internship as an assistant to a Public Relations specialist who ran a consultancy from the inside of her 120 square foot home office as an attempt to get into the business working my way up instead of studying my way up. Turns out- that fucking sucked! ( Don't get me wrong my boss was cool but I had no idea what I was doing half the time so I spent most days pretending to work and secretly utilising the texting function on my laptop to talk to my friends about meeting up at our fav bar later that day to drink endless pints of beer) But! naive me thought maybe it was just that particular setting so instead I enrolled my butt into on campus uni to start a Bachelor of Arts with a major in PR. This is where I thrived in every single subject I took BESIDES the ones related to PR but I still continued to tell myself everything was okay. I got a job working as a barista, a job I still have and a job I still hate but its okay cause it pays my bills and works around uni well and I've met some of the greatest friends I ever could have imagined through it. (these are the things I tell myself on repeat while I'm getting ready at 7am or while I’m dealing with piece of shit asshole customers. “I love my job, I NEED my job” etc.) I do also have a mild coffee addiction so there's always that to keep me going.

Eventually, however, my chemically imbalanced brain took over things slowly began to fall apart. I was obviously miserable at uni and clearly not doing what I was supposed to be doing. Work got gradually worse as my friends began to move on to bigger and better things - amazing for them! devastating for me! I had a relationship that almost ruined me and my depression took over so intensely that when I finally worked up the courage to speak to someone the first thing the doctor says to me was “hmm sounds like borderline agoraphobia to me”. I mean I really don't want to get too deep into my 2018 Brittany breakdown right now but just imagine never leaving the house, like, ever, calling random family members every day to just hysterically cry about nothing, all my hair falling out, the works. Honestly it was fucking rough.

But then came “the change”. That Leo season change that fixes everything!

----SIDE NOTE : Again, I'm not trying to discount my own hard work and the gut wrenching pain that I went through not only in this extremely dark time but also the pain I went through trying to make things better for myself but sometimes its easy to deal with our feeling through comedy and for me this comes through my little astrology/Leo season joke. I know it fake but its my small hope I hold onto - like shooting stars or preying or whatever the fuck you need to do to cope

I started going to therapy- a rocky start but eventually figured out. I made a decision to change my degree. I took my long time love of true crime & murder and combined it with my intense fascination with the human brain and decided to go all out on a DOUBLE degree of psychological science/ criminology & criminal justice. Fun right! To be honest I’d never even thought of putting my crime love into a degree or a career, I just thought I was destined to be the weird kid at the party that actually gets enjoyment from spouting endless gory facts about some really, really fucked up shit. I also did that whole dumb thing of “Well I’m super, SUPER interested in the human brain and all aspects of psychology and how it works and even the physical brain like neuroscience and stuff but oh no way I couldn't study it I'm nowhere near smart enough for that stuff” WHAT THE FUCK! THATS SUCH BULLSHIT! Heads up whoever the heck ends up reading this- if this is regularly your answer to stuff- you're wrong! Have a little faith in yourself and fuck anyone who tells you otherwise and fuck anything that tries to get in your way! A little faith and you'll achieve good things. Now one of the reasons I love Leo Season if because of the unwavering self confidence that usually comes with it. Don't get me wrong I'm still probably the most insecure person you’ll ever meet but during Leo Season there's just this BOOST that happens and suddenly I feel like my real personality starts to actually shine on through. That pink loving, should-have -grown-up-in-the-80′s gal comes out and I feel like the girl having fun who inspired Cyndi to write that song I love oh so much. For example, one night I got super dressed up in my fav very 80s outfit, threw on my favourite over embellished oxfords, some dramatic lightening bolt earrings and I took myself on a date to see the gorgeous Sigourney Weaver in Aliens. Later that night I decide that I loved my own company and my own idea of fun so much that I changed the notes on my dating profile that essentially stated ‘don't bother if you're not this great’ and included a rule about must being willing to sit though endless horror, cult classics and literally anything Winona Ryder has ever starred in. A few days later I recieved a message “But what's your favourite Winona film?” which as it turns out came from the most amazing, generous, funny, gorgeous, sweetest, most perfect, most brilliant, most caring, most phenomenal girl in the entire history, ever was ever will be. 2 months later we moved in together. Leo Season man! It really does it to ya! So anywaaaaaays. Here I am, a year later, enjoying the first days of the seasonal change and getting ready to conquer some great shit and doing it all looking great wearing the most amazing, tackiest 80s loving shit. I didn't realise I could talk this much about myself and honestly I haven't even finished! We still have to cover all my interest - id say like 5 essays per interest, and LORD HELP YOU when we start talking politics cause baby I got some shit. to. say. But I guess all of this will do for now. Talk soon x

#blog #blog post #only-sunday

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newwayastrology · 2 years

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I gave this horoscope to a student who is only on lesson 4 of my Course. I erased the name and data. It took her maybe 36 seconds to nail what the central issue in life is suggested to be via this horoscope.

Thee most important thing in life for psychological health is the love and support received from BOTH parents. When that is not the case, it sets the foundation for any number of behavioral and psychological concerns. The Spears horoscope classically demonstrates how this can be reflected in real life.

When you don't know how to see this in a horoscope and pay no attention to real life, this is what happens: "You have Jupiter in the 2nd House so you should do well financially. Venus is in the 4th House so your home life was probably peaceful and one or both parents are pretty attractive." It's "this means that" that means nothing of importance. A consultation is supposed to get to the point of a person's life, not give them an astrology lesson about the meaning of aspects and planets in Houses. There should be ZERO astrological jargon used. For example, when you look at Trump's chart, you expect a person with a very strong need for love and acceptance as a way to bolster a very insecure self-esteem profile that is a result of parental factors. That's it. If his father had been like Ward Cleaver in Leave It to Beaver instead of an inventor of the words autocracy and racism, Trump would be a different human. There has never been or ever will be anything more important in the psychology of Trump. Every human has a factor or three of importance in life. As the astrologer, not addressing it does the client a disservice.

At the end of the day, you want to be the best you that you can be. Doing that requires working on the things in a horoscope shown by hard aspects. For example, a person has Saturn in the 4th squaring a 7th House Sun. This suggests the need to learn about oneself through relationships. The process of learning will necessitate understanding how a person's own parents provided an example somehow that is a limiting factor in the person's own relationship life. These are the kinds of things that matter and are real life, not, "Your Mars in the 11th House means most of your friends will be aggressive."

I temporarily have great deals on my Course and the Tyl Masters Course. If interested, contact me at [email protected].

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maevefiction · 6 years

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Your Light in the Mist - Chapter 11

More than a week had elapsed since my last yoga session, and I was pleasantly surprised at my lack of stiffness. My iPod sat silent in the grass next to my mat…the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks proved to be the only music I required. Especially at six in the morning. The sun had just begun to rise behind us, its warmth exacerbating the flush my workout normally provided.

Simon’s skill level was far, far above mine, and some of the poses he worked through made me stop dead in my tracks as I admired the way his body seemed to defy the very laws of physics. He volunteered to work with me whenever we had the time, and I gratefully accepted, though I fully understood that a grace such as his was something that couldn’t be taught.

We chatted while cooling down, learning that our birthdays were only a day apart, his on October 30th, mine on October 31st. He found my being a Halloween baby hilarious, and I was tickled that we shared the same astrological sign. Fellow Scorpios - no wonder he’d liked my tank top. I tried to get him to reveal his birth year, but he adamantly refused until I offered mine up first. The look of delight on his face as he screeched out ‘me too!’ was adorable, and when he high-fived me and christened me his sister from another mister I embraced him and kissed his cheek, grinning at the lovely blush it caused.

I took a seat at the patio table and opened my laptop with the intention of starting work on Tom’s website design. Simon sat next to me, both of us facing the ocean, and he began typing away on his phone. He harrumphed and gave me some wicked side eye.

My brow furrowed. “For fuck’s sake, what NOW?”

He showed me his screen, scrolling through his inbox. “Seven more since last night. You’ve made an awful lot of extra work for me, woman.” I rolled my eyes. He turned on his chair to face me. “I’m curious, though…I thought you just lectured to and consulted with PR firms, which would mean their actual clients wouldn’t know much about you at all. So, it’s kinda surprising that an artist would be willing to jump ship and leave their current rep in the dust to wind up where you are, wouldn’t you say?”

I sighed and finished editing my open layer in Photoshop before replying. “I started out working directly with clients. My first was Anne Rice. She’s is a family friend and was willing to give me a cha…”

He put a hand on my shoulder and shoved. “GET. OUT. I’m assuming this means you’re from or lived in New Orleans at some point? But it mustn’t have been for long, because you have zero accent.”

“Your assumption is correct. Born there, raised there, relocated to New York City in 1998.”

He nodded emphatically. “So you dumped the accent. Understandable.”

It was my turn for side eye. “I didn’t dump it. It just…faded.”

He snorted. “Whatever you say, Maude.”

I pinched his arm, reveling in the resulting squeal he emitted. “Faded. I’m like a chameleon with accents. Soon I’ll be picking up your dialect and sounding like a pretentious asshat, too. In which case, you have my permission to kill me.”

“You can call me anything you like as long as you solemnly swear to take me to Mardi Gras next year.”

I rolled my eyes and held up my hand, palm towards him. “Simon. Please. I don’t think you’re ready for that sort of thing. But, if you start training now, we might be able to pull it off.”

He tilted his head like an oversized puppy. “Training for what? Drinking heavily? I’ve been training for that for years.”

“No. Throwing beads into the crowd. And doing the princess wave.” I demonstrated both. “Because if we go, you must ride on a parade float. It can be arranged. I know people.” I frowned. “At least, I used to know people. Anyway, what I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted was that she was my first client, and it gave me a lot of clout. For which I am eternally grateful. I moved on after three years or so with her and began working directly with clients, most of whom were too small to have a decent PR firm behind them. I did everything, created websites, set up Facebook accounts, provided instructions on how to post, when to post, what to post, yada yada. Lots of hand holding and cajoling. Word spread, and bigger names took notice, which led to PR firms hiring me to work one-on-one with their clients for a specified duration. Most of them already had websites in place, so my focus shifted entirely to social media. In early 2010, I was invited to speak for two hours at a PR conference in San Diego…they wanted me to lecture on enhancing client reputation through social media. It was winter in New York, and they were willing to pay for my travel expenses so I thought, California? Fuck it, why not?”

Simon’s legs were crossed, his upper body leaning in towards me as he listened attentively. I had paused, and he motioned for me to continue.

“So, I spoke for two hours and they handed me a check for three thousand dollars. That was more than I normally made in an entire week and it blew my tiny little mind. It seemed to be vastly less stressful than dealing with super huge egos and non-tech savvy artists and damn, the money. I adjusted my entire business model, and within a month I was turning down engagements because my calendar was full. PR firms were still asking me for assistance, so I set up a consulting procedure wherein I’d outline a plan for them to implement, collected my fee and was on my way. It was all so…easy.”

He laughed loudly. “And you decided to work for Prosper why?”

“Because my ‘easy’ job and the cash it generated had taken over my entire life. I was the job and the job was me. Much to my surprise, lecturing and consulting long term turned out to be a soul sucking bore…and it transformed me into a miserable drudge. I am, at heart, a creative individual and I missed doing graphic and website design, photography, and learning new things. Terribly. Working for Prosper allows me to do all that again, and then some. That’s why.”

He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin with one hand. “And I’m sure it has nothing to do with the exquisite creature sleeping soundly in your bed right now.”

“No, it doesn’t. He was actually the reason why I seriously considered declining Luke’s offer.” Simon looked puzzled, but I didn’t elaborate. “So. Why did you leave such a prestigious position at the Dorchester to become a PA? Just for Luke? Or is there more to the story?”

He grinned. “Damn, turned it right around on me, didn’t you? Touché, my friend. I went to university for business management and administrative assistance, and worked in the field until 2005. Cooking had always been my passion, and I had some sort of spiritual awakening wherein I decided I absolutely needed to become a professional chef or else I would shrivel up and die. So I did. I moved from place to place, learning, working, partying my ass off, and finally landed the sous chef spot at the Dorchester in 2009. It was dandy at first, but as the years passed I felt like I’d grown stagnant, doing the same thing night after night, having little input on menu changes and so on. Like you, I was bored. I was averaging 70 hours a week in that kitchen, cut off from the world, and it hit me that all I had gotten out of it was a nicely padded bank account…and that there was no one to share it with. I’d always loved being around lots of people, and there I was seeing nothing but the same damn faces day in and day out. In 2013 I happened across Luke’s ad, reworked my resume, and the rest is history. Unlike you, though, I don’t think I would have taken the job if it wasn’t for him, because the salary was abysmal. As soon as I saw him, I knew. He was it. The one. Love at first sight. I thank my lucky stars every single day that he felt the same way.”

After wiping the tears from his eyes, he took hold of my hand. “Maude, I don’t know if he’s mentioned it or not, but Tom’s had a rough time of it lately, and I’m so, so happy that you’ve found each other.”

“Me too, Simon.” I smiled, letting go of his hand. “Now, please, for the love of all things holy, shut your cake hole so I can get some work done, okay?”

“God, you are such a bitch.”

“I am. And you’re still talking. Cease.”

We worked quietly, side by side, until Luke poked his head out the doors to inquire as to when Simon planned on getting his butt in the kitchen and making some breakfast. As he got up from his chair, he peered over my shoulder at my laptop screen. I had a basic layout set and was in the process of choosing a color combination that would contrast perfectly.

“Wow, that’s a right brilliant color palette you have there, Maude. Is that for Tom’s site?”

I nodded. “Does it look…familiar?”

He stared. “Yes…maybe…should it?”

I opened the tab that contained the HD photo of Tom’s eye that I’d drawn all my color options from. “Tada.”

Simon poked my shoulder and called for Luke to come see. He padded out onto the lanai, looked over my shoulder, nodded, then put his hands on his hips.

“So, when are you going to use your magic to revamp the Prosper site?”

I closed my laptop and put my head in my hands, then pushed my chair back and went to wait in the kitchen, muttering to myself about peace and solitude and how I couldn’t find any even though I was in paradise.

Tom bounded our of our bedroom just as Simon was plating our pancakes and bacon, freshly showered, wearing a pair of faded, loose fitting jeans and a tight, light blue V-neck tee. I leaned back on my bar stool and around the counter to look at his feet. Scuffed, well-worn boots. When my eyes finally made their way up to his face I was greeted with a dazzling, toothy smile. I groaned.

Simon pinched his cheeks. “Lovely of you to join us, Thomas.”

Tom lowered himself elegantly onto the stool to my right, resting his hand on my spandex-clad thigh as he leaned in to kiss me.

“Good morning, Maude. How was yoga?”

“Spectacular, actually. Simon and I had a lovely chat and I even managed to get some work done in spite of it.” He laughed and began slowly sliding his hand up my leg, edging ever closer to the apex of my thighs. Simon set our plates in front of us, raising a brow as he spied what Tom was up to.

“Um, excuse me. This is a fine dining establishment, people. No foreplay is permitted.” I glanced up from my plate and saw Luke directly behind him, hand cupping Simon’s ass.

“Whatever, asshole.” I pointed at my short stack. “Do you have syrup for these?”

He pulled a pot off the stove and spooned some of its contents onto them. “Made with fresh pineapples. Especially for you.”

All eyes were on me as they waited for a reaction. I broke off a hunk of pancake with my fork and shoved it in my mouth. “Mmm, yummy. Thank you.” Luke looked at Tom, who shrugged. I took another bite of breakfast. “Yeah, nice try, losers. I happen to like pineapples. Just not on pizza.”

Tom put his arm around my waist, pulled me to him and kissed the top of my head. “I had nothing to do with this. I swear it.”

I said nothing, ripping off a piece of bacon with my teeth instead. He tapped his fork on his plate.

“So, Maude, I was thinking…maybe we could take a ride out to Talk Story today? I called to see if Alani would be in, and she is.” I spun the stool around in his direction, dumbfounded. He smiled. “I did say I’d go back to meet her, did I not?”

“Yes. Yes you did.” I grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “What an amazingly generous thing to do. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me just yet. You’re going to be the one in charge of crowd control.” He stole a strip of bacon from my plate and swallowed it down before I could even muster a protest.

“I’d rather corral a group of a hundred people than have to sit next to you while I’m trying to eat a fucking meal, bacon stealer. And everything else stealer.”

He snickered, and I wolfed down the rest of my food, rinsed my dishes, put them in the dishwasher and headed for the bedroom, finally noticing that Luke and Simon had disappeared. I wrote a giant ‘thanks for breakfast’ on the chalkboard in the kitchen and drew a smiley face to go with it, figuring we wouldn’t be seeing them again before we left.

*************************************** After my much needed shower, I wound up standing in my underwear, staring into yet another wardrobe wondering what the hell to wear. Tom looked too damn good for me to get away with shorts and a T-shirt, and my black tank dress just didn’t scream ‘please behave and listen to the nice lady’. Tom was waiting patiently for me, sitting at the desk answering emails and returning calls. I looked at his boots, then back and my limited selection of dresses. The brown chiffon galaxy print sleeveless wasn’t an exact match, but pretty damn close. I pulled it off its hanger and laid it on the bed so I could unzip the back without it winding up on the floor, chastising myself for giving in to my everything-must-coordinate OCD once again. I slipped it over my head, put my arms through the proper holes and managed to zip it up on my own, then went into the bathroom to figure out a hair strategy.

I’d just wrestled it into a braid when I overheard Tom talking in the bedroom.

“How’s Los Angeles? Elsa? Kids? Good to hear. Oh, she’s unbelievable, Chris. Here, I’ll take you in and you can meet her.” He came around the corner carrying his open laptop.

“Chris Hemsworth, Maude Gallagher.” He turned the screen toward me, and there he was, Thor, God of Thunder. In my bathroom. He held up a hand in greeting.

“Hello, Maude. Nice to meet you. See you? Skype you?” He face palmed. “I have no idea what the correct terminology is.” I heard a woman yell in the background that meet was fine and for him to bring the tablet over to her so she could see me. He got up and walked into another room, and a beautiful blonde woman came into view alongside Chris. She waved madly.

“Look at you, you’re gorgeous. A natural beauty. And that dress…I am in love with it. You must tell me where you found it.” Her accent was a delight. She grinned. “I’m Elsa, by the way. Tom has told us so much about you I feel like I know you already.”

I waved at them. “Hi there. Lovely to meet you both. I’d like to say Tom has told me so much about you, but that would be a big fat lie, so suffice to say I’m sure he will tell me so much about you when we aren’t quite so…so…shit, what’s the word I’m looking for here?”

Tom moved to stand next to me, shifting the laptop so we were both visible, smirking. “Preoccupied. The word you’re looking for is preoccupied.”

They laughed, and Chris grabbed at Elsa. “Remember when we were always preoccupied?”

She slapped his hand. “Oh yes. I do. And that’s why now we’re preoccupied with three little ones, my darling Christopher.” I heard children crying in the background. Elsa said a quick goodbye and ran off, and Chris followed suit so he could assist.

Tom put the laptop on the counter and pulled me to him, hands on my ass as he pressed me up against his crotch and rammed his tongue in my mouth, then backed away quickly, leaving me panting. “Well, I guess we should get going.”

I shot him a scathing look. “We should. But I have to pee first.” He walked out into the bedroom. As I sat on the toilet, I weighed my options for getting even. I mentally high fived myself as I pulled my underwear off over my feet and left them on the bathroom floor.

*************************************** We parked a block down from Talk Story, and I scouted ahead and left Tom in the Jeep. My gladiator sandals clicked on the sidewalk as I half-jogged to my destination, anxious to see if Alani was at the desk. She was, and I texted him to come on down. He ran to meet me, and I stopped him from holding the door for me and letting me go in first.

“Nope, you should be the first thing she sees.” I had my phone all ready to go in order to capture the moment, planning on sending her a copy as a keepsake. He walked through, and she looked up as the bell dinged to announce that someone had entered the store and the look on her face was one I knew I’d remember forever. He approached her, hand extended, and I was right behind him.

“Hello, Alani. I’m Tom.” She remained motionless. He turned to me. “This is Maude. We were here on Monday, and she told me that you’re a fan of my work and would perhaps enjoy meeting me.” She nodded, gingerly lifting her arm up but unable to make herself grab his hand. He took the initiative, holding it to his lips and kissing it demurely. She squealed, so high pitched I thought my ears might bleed. Four other girls came running out of the stacks, took one look at him, and began jumping up and down, screaming, phones in hand. I stopped filming so I could set the boundaries before any issues arose, stepping between them and Tom.

“Hi, ladies. I’m Maude, Tom’s social media manager. Let’s go over some ground rules, okay?” They lowered their phones and nodded. “Tom wants to be able to take pictures, sign for and chat with all of you, but in order for him to be able to do so you need to make sure you don’t post anything to social media until after we leave the premises. No texting or calling, either. If a crowd turns up, we’ll have to cut things short, and where’s the fun in that?”

A husky, bearded, bespectacled man came out from the stacks, wearing a white and green palm leaf print Hawaiian shirt and khaki hiking shorts. “Girls, what the heck is going on up here? Why all the screaming? You know people prefer quiet when they…” He stopped short when he saw Tom, his mouth dropping open, then quickly closing as he grew closer, hand proffered. I figured he was the owner, so I let him pass.

“Aloha, Mr. Hiddleston. I’m Roger Marshal, and Talk Story is my baby. I can’t begin to tell you how much I appreciate your stopping by again…the girls were so bummed when they learned they’d missed you on Monday.”

Tom shook his hand vigorously. “Thank you for having me. Your establishment is outstanding…I’m a bit of a bibliophile, and if I had my druthers I’d be perusing the shelves here for days on end. My apologies for dashing off so quickly when I was in last, but I had a prior obligation and thought it better to come back when I had more time to spend.” He turned to me. “This is Maude Gallagher, my social media manager.”

I offered my hand and he clasped it gently with one of his, then placed the other on top. “Maude, nice to meet you. Is there anything I can do to make this easier for you both?”

“Actually, would you happen to have a room available that’s a bit more private?”

He nodded, then turned his attention to the desk. “Sure thing. Alani, why don’t you show our guests to the staff lunch room?” Her eyes lit up, and the faces of the rest of the staff fell. “Girls, you go too. I’ll cover the desk.” They thanked him in unison between excited giggles.

I tried to hang back behind Tom, but he slowed and fell into step with me and slipped his arm around me, hand on my lower back, whispering in my ear. “The way you jumped in and took charge did…things…to me, Maude.” His let his hand glide lower and lower, halting when he reached the spot where the waistband of my underwear should be. He felt around with his fingers, over my hip, diving quickly down into the crease of my left buttock then back up to my waist, gripping me just a smidge too hard.

I met his gaze, noting his narrowed eyes and the way his tongue darted out over and over to lick his lips. I smirked and whispered back. “Gosh, I’m sorry. I forgot to mention that I’m not wearing any panties. They sorta fell off back at the house and are lying on the bathroom floor, all alone and unloved.” The hand on my waist began to shake as we reached the staff room and he began breathing deeply as he attempted to keep his shit together. And round two of Friday’s Titillation Tease goes to…me.

Tom spent nearly two hours taking selfies, videos, signing anything the girls could get their hands on, and answering their seemingly unlimited supply of questions. The giant cup of tea I’d had on the ride over had finally hit my bladder, and I excused myself and went off in search of the bathrooms. There was only a one, unisex, located all the way on the other side of the store, tucked into an alcove deep in the stacks. Nice and roomy, too. I envisioned Tom fucking me up against the wall, then scolded myself for my blatant lack of restraint as I texted him precisely what I’d been thinking while I walked back to the staff room.

Roger had come back to check on them, which Tom took as an indicator that it was time to wrap things up. He was hugging each of the girls goodbye in turn as they left the room, saving Alaini for last. She rested her head on his chest, facing me, and mouthed ‘he smells like a FOREST’ while hugging him tightly. Up until that moment, I hadn’t been sure whether she recognized me or not. She stepped back and looked at both of us.

“This has been, like, the best day of my life. I can never thank you enough.” Her eyes shone with tears. “Would it be okay if I took a picture of you guys together?”

I smiled. “Of course. But I think it would be better if you were in it, too.” We posed, and Tom held out her phone to get the shot. I was entering my Prosper email address into her phone so she could send me a copy and she was putting hers in mine so I could send her the video from earlier when she cleared her throat.

She looked up shyly. “Um, I don’t mean to be rude or get in your business or anything, but I was just, you know, wondering…” She swallowed. “Are you guys, like, a couple?”

Tom grinned. “Is it that obvious?”

Her brow furrowed. “Well, you know, I saw what you posted on Twitter yesterday and I was like, hmm, and I know you guys work together and now seeing you in person…yeah. It’s pretty obvious, I guess.”

Tom took my hand. “Yes, Alani. Maude isn’t just my social media manager…she’s my girlfriend as well. And can I let you in on a little secret?” She nodded, awestruck. “When you saw us here on Monday, that was the very first time we met. So you played a rather important role in what turned out to be the best day of my life so far.”

I kissed his cheek. “Mine too, Alani.”

Alani flopped onto the nearest chair, clutching her hands to her chest. “That. Is. So. Romantic.” She leapt back up and hugged me. “We all want him for ourselves, but if he has to be with someone else, I’m really glad it’s you.”

I patted her on the back. “Thank you. Hearing you say that means so much…honestly, I don’t have the words to express properly how it made me feel.” We let go of each other, and she made her way back to the desk.

I turned to Tom. “I need to hit the bathroom again before we head out.” He nodded and followed my lead. He didn’t mention my text, and I assumed he hadn’t read it yet. We didn’t see another soul on the way there, and the stacks outside the alcove were deserted as well. I recalled my vision of Tom fucking me against the bathroom wall and decided this was going to be my shining moment of public indecency. I opened the door, stepped in, then turned around to face him, left eyebrow raised.

“Want to join me?” I licked my lips. He barged past me into the bathroom, fingers already working to unbuckle his belt.

“I thought you’d never ask.” I locked the door, then did a 180. He held his fully engorged cock in his right hand, stroking it, catching any drips with his left. “I do believe I need to put this somewhere immediately so I don’t make a terrible mess on the floor.”

I bit my bottom lip as I tilted my head to the side. “I think I’ve got just the place for it.”

He ceased his stroking in order to back me up against the wall, growling in my ear. “Oh yes. You most certainly do.” He bent his knees as he lifted the front of my dress up to my waist, and I wrapped my leg around his, grinding my dripping pussy against him while I rubbed my clit. He groaned, and I slipped my glistening finger into his mouth. He sucked on it, and I felt the head of his cock at my entrance and his hands cupping my ass, his full weight on me, pressing me firmly against the cool tile.

He was panting. “Put your other leg around me and your arms around my neck.” I did the latter, but scoffed at the former.

“Um, there is no way in hell you’re going to be able to hold me up.”

He leaned forward to stare into my eyes, and his expression made me whimper. “Leg. Up. Now. Please.” As I complied he sheathed himself fully. I tried to bite back a ridiculously loud moan but was only partially successful. His mouth met mine, tongues dancing around each other. He pulled back.

“Maude, my apologies, but once I start moving I fear I’m going to last all of thirty seconds. If I’m fortunate.”

I clamped down on him. He began thrusting wildly, and I focused all my energy on not coming before he did. I was doing well until he started whispering in my ear using his Loki voice.

“Give in, mortal. Come for me. I know you’ve dreamed of this, me fucking into you for all I’m worth, you pinned against the wall, unable to sway those mesmerizing hips and have your way with me as you ride my cock to find your own selfish pleasure.”

He pounded into me, almost savagely, and as he felt my walls begin to flutter he put his hand over my mouth.

“Not. A. Sound.” I came, my scream trapped beneath his hand, the wet sounds of him moving in and out of me echoing eerily off the bathroom walls. “That’s it. Look at you, coming and coming all over my cock. So, so beautiful.”

He let his hand drop, and I could feel his thrusts becoming more erratic as I stared at him, his face red, jaw clenched, the veins on his neck standing out with his exertion. His head tipped back, fingers digging into the underside of my thighs, and his entire body shuddered as he orgasmed, come spurting hot inside me. I let my legs slide down one at a time, planting my feet as firmly as I possibly could despite the fact that they felt like they were made of Jell-O.

He rested his head on my shoulder, and I rubbed his back. “I guess this means you got my text after all.” I felt him nod. “Well, if this is what not wearing underwear gets me, I’m never putting on another fucking pair ever again.”

We both laughed, quickly cleaned ourselves up, and I peeked out the door to make sure the coast was clear. Still not a soul around, and we said a final goodbye to Alani on our way out and proceeded to walk back to the Jeep. We sat for a while, neither of us feeling quite capable of driving.

He leaned over to kiss me, hand on the back of my neck, grinning as he pulled away. “I’m famished. Want to grab something to eat before we head back?”

“You already know the answer to that.” I noticed the street getting a bit congested, a small pack of women heading in our direction and what appeared to be a local news crew up the road a bit…I pulled out my phone and checked Alani’s Twitter feed. She’d posted the photo of all of us.

Here’s me just a little while ago with Tom Hiddleston and his girlfriend, Maude. He smells like a pine forest, and she’s super nice. #bestdayever, #thankyoutomandmaude

I showed it to him. “I’m thinking maybe we should stop somewhere a little further down the road. You?”

He started the Jeep, put it in first and stalled it as he tried to pull away from the curb, and then again on his second try. He smiled at me sheepishly. “Perhaps you’d better drive.”

“Gee, ya think?” We got out and switched places. I shook my head. “What a newb.”

He crossed his arms. “I am not a newb. I’m just out of practice is all.”

I patted his thigh as we got to the highway. “Right. Rusty stick skills. I remember.”

He chortled. “Yours remain top notch though, my love.”

I smiled smugly. “They do, don’t they?”

He raised his index finger. “Although, technically, you didn’t actually make use of them this go round, did you?”

“I’ll make up for it next time.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

“Well I’d fucking hope you’d hold me to it. That’s the whole point.” I saw a McDonald’s sign in the distance. “Dude, I want some French fries in the WORST way. And a chocolate milkshake. You game?’

“I most certainly am.”

“If you behave I’ll let you have my cherry.”

“Bit late for that, isn’t it?”

“How rude.”

“Perhaps. But true.”

“Not entirely true.”

“What do you mean, not entirely true?”

I turned off the highway and into the parking lot. The drive through line was mobbed, but the lot itself was relatively empty. “I mean that the fact that it’s a bit late for you to have my cherry is only partially correct.”

He stared at me as I engaged the parking brake, puzzled, then shook his head. “I’m not following.”

The left corner of my mouth scrunched up in mock irritation. “Really? Are you sure?” He shrugged, palms up. “Think about all we’ve…done.”

“Maude.”

“Good. Now think about what we haven’t done.” I gave him a few moments to review, watching his face closely so I’d see it dawn on him. 3…2…1…aaaannndd there it was. His jaw slackened, hips lifting almost imperceptibly. “That’s right. I’ve played around, sure, but as far as actually having a cock in my ass…nope. Which means, technically, my anal cherry is still intact.”

He covered his face with his hands, groaning, but said nothing.

I went in for the kill. “So, Thomas…tell me. Would you like my cherry?”

Shaking his head, face still hidden, he spoke in a low voice. “Maude.” He paused, remaining silent for quite some time, seemingly avoiding my question. I wondered if I’d overstepped some sort of boundary, pushing him too far.

My mind was racing, and I frowned. “Wow. I’m really sorry, Tom.”

He uncovered his face to take my hand, gazing at me with eyes full of concern. “Whatever for?”

“Because I put you on the spot there and just assumed it’s something you’d want to participate in. I didn’t stop to think that it’s something that might not be up everyone’s alley.” I rolled my eyes. “That didn’t come out…shit…DAMN. Anyway, that was incredibly presumptuous and I apologize for letting myself get so carried away. Please don’t feel like it’s something you have to…”

He leaned in to kiss me forcefully, covering my entire mouth with his, tongue darting over my lips, then pulled away before I could fully engage. “May I answer your question now?”

I shook my head. “Tom, you don’t need…”

“I know I don’t need to, but I WANT to. My answer is, with undeniable certainty, yes. Please accept my apology for not answering straight away. I’m afraid I was too busy thinking about how deliciously tight you’re going to feel around me and then I remembered that you aren’t wearing panties and it was all I could do to stop myself from dragging you onto my lap and fucking you right here in the McDonald’s parking lot.”

His eyes met mine, nostrils flaring, pupils blown wide open. Never before had I been able to do this to a man, make him want me so desperately using nothing but words. He squeezed my hand.

“That you’d trust me with something so intimate, bequeathing me such a precious gift, wishing to share something that you’ve not yet experienced with another, is…I’m honored, humbled, awestruck…so very many things.” He smiled timidly. “I’ve never been someone’s first anything before.”

My brows shot up, but I managed to keep my mouth shut.

“Maude, there’s something I’d like to ask you, but…”

“Shoot.”

“All right. This may be terribly intrusive, and feel free to not answer it if you don’t feel comfortable doing so, but…knowing what I do about you, sexually, I’m…surprised…that you…erm, never…anyway, I suppose I’m just wondering why.”

I sighed. Good job, Maude. This is what you get for trying to be a seductress.

“Long story short, you’re only the fourth person I’ve been intimate with. The first two were before I was twenty and not even remotely interested in such a thing. By the third I was very interested, but things fell apart before it happened.” I put my arms on the steering wheel and rested my forehead on them for a moment, then raised my head and turned to him. I couldn’t quite read the expression on his face.

“Okay, I’m not sure if that look means ‘I didn’t need to hear that’ or ‘wow, only three, what a loser’.”

He shook his head. “It’s neither. Well, maybe a bit of the first one, because the idea of you being with someone else is much more unpleasant than I would have imagined, but…it was mostly surprise that such an incredibly beautiful, intelligent, hilarious woman wouldn’t have men lining up to be with her.”

“Thomas. Stop being so fucking wonderful, won’t you? Christ. There was no line, believe me. I’ve always been at least a little chubby, but after I moved to New York I put on a huge amount of weight. There are reasons for that, but that’s another story for another time. By 2003 I was tipping the scales at two hundred and forty-seven pounds. I’ve always been a confident person, and I honestly never cared what anyone else thought about the way I looked, but…you know what I’m getting at here, I think. In late 2008 I started feeling like shit, and Anne, who’d nearly died due to undiagnosed diabetes in 2003, pushed me to see a doctor. Sure enough, that was the problem. It was early, and resolvable with lifestyle modifications. So, I kicked myself in the ass, and over the next year I lost more than eighty pounds, and that was when I…a woman in her sexual prime, in the best shape of her life…met number three. God bless him…I was on a mission, making up for lost time and he could barely keep up with me. One time I actually thought he was going to need an ambulance…sheese, why I am telling you this? Yikes. Sorry. Lord knows I don’t want to hear anything like it from you.” I unbuckled my seat belt. “Let’s pretend this never happened and go get those milkshakes, m’kay?”

He grabbed my arm as I opened the door, and I turned to meet his gaze. “I…Maude…I just…you are…everything about you…” He shook his head. “I fall deeper in love with you with every passing moment.”

“Right back atcha, baby.” He laughed. “Yeah. No way I was going to try and out-eloquent you there. Waste of time and energy.”

We went inside, his arm around my shoulders, and ordered two Happy Meals when we saw the new toys were Minions. Neither of us could resist playing with them as we ate. Tom went back for a Big Mac and chicken nuggets, which I shared. He stuck his fingers in through the lid of my milkshake, deftly picking up the cherry and popping it in his mouth, a huge smile on his face.

We both used the bathroom, separately, and as we were walking back to the Jeep I heard the voice of a young boy.

“Mom, Mom! That man over there! That’s the man you’re always looking at on your computer!”

A woman replied to him. “Mason, what are you talking ab…?” And with that, I knew she’d seen Tom. I pulled at his shirt, and he looked down at me and nodded. We turned around and waved. The woman was about my age, maybe a little older, and she looked like she might die of embarrassment when she realized we’d overheard their conversation. Tom strode over, hand extended.

“Hi there. Tom Hiddleston. And you are?” She moved as if in a trance, hand out, and he grasped it gently and shook.

“I…uh…um…Sarah. I’m Sarah. And this is my son, Mason.”

Tom beamed and shook Mason’s hand as well. “Lovely to meet you both.”

Sarah reached into her purse, dug around and pulled out a Coriolanus program. She cleared her throat. “I heard that you’d be on the island and I’ve been carrying this with me, you know, just in case.”

He took it from her. “Were you in attendance?”

Mason piped up. “We flew all the way across two oceans so she could go see your show. I saw Big Ben. It was really cool.”

Sarah was bright red. “I saw it twice, actually, but didn’t have time to stay after.”

Tom pulled a sharpie out of his back pocket. “May I?”

She grinned. “Please do.” He signed his name, as well as a message. ‘Sorry to have missed you there, but better late than never. Glad to finally have met you. XO’”

As he handed it back to her he asked if she’d like a picture with him. He introduced us, and I volunteered to do the honors so Mason could squeeze in as well. I gave him my Minion to keep him occupied while I took some shots of just Sarah and Tom. He held it up to give it back to me when I handed Sarah back her phone.

“Nope, buddy, that’s yours now.” I held out my hand to Tom and he put his toy in it. “In fact, you can have Tom’s too. This way he gets to stay with his friend and won’t be lonely.” He thanked me so quietly I could barely hear him, eyes full of wonder at what to an adult was such a small gesture.

Tom hugged them both goodbye, and Sarah embraced me as well. She smiled at my surprise. “Thank you, both of you, so much.”

Tom put his arm around my waist as we walked the rest of the way back to the Jeep, placing a quick kiss on the top of my head.

“It is my personal opinion that you’re a much kinder, gentler person than you’d like everyone to believe.”

I sighed. “Yeah, yeah. And it’s all your fucking fault, too.”

#your light in the mist #chapter 11

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onlinenaadiastrologyhyderabad · 2 years

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seventh house now for you scorpios mars rules your first house of identity and in your sixth house too Naadi Reading in Narayanpet, Telangana | Naadi Shastra in Narayanpet, Telangana | Naadi Jyotish in Narayanpet, Telangana | Naadi Kendra in Narayanpet, Telangana | Naadi Jothidam in Narayanpet, Telangana It looks like you are scoring some sort of win at this point in time maybe like an important sale in a work environment it also feels like you have finalized something maybe faster than you thought you would again in a work environment it also feels like you have reached out to the right people who can help you with a work related matter at this point in time if you have been maybe struggling to figure out what's going on Naadi Josiyam in Narayanpet, Telangana | Naadi Jothida Centre in Narayanpet, Telangana | Naadi Joshiyam in Narayanpet, Telangana | Naadi Josiyam Centre in Narayanpet, Telangana | Naadi Shastra Centre in Narayanpet, Telangana For you on a health level on the health front on the 8th of Online Nadi Astrology you may have that aha moment where a specialist or or someone from the outside is saying this is where the problem is coming from so it looks like someone from the outside is helping you figure out something that was making you feel maybe not so positive and optimistic about your health you might also find like an alternative health specialist on this day and you seem to have again some sort of breakthrough Naadi Bhavishya in Narayanpet, Telangana | Naadi Patra in Narayanpet, Telangana | Naadi in Astrology in Narayanpet, Telangana | Naadi Fees in Narayanpet, Telangana | Naadi Astrology Fees in Narayanpet, Telangana Also together with your partner you seem to be agreeing on something maybe that if you are in a relationship you seem to be agreeing on something that you both need to work together towards on this on this date it's a great day to sell something it's a great day to persuade someone of something it is for instance also a great day to have an interview or to present something to a group of people at a conference Naadi Predictions in Narayanpet, Telangana | Naadi Josiyam Fees in Narayanpet, Telangana | Naadi Jothidam Fees in Narayanpet, Telangana | Naadi Jyothisham in Narayanpet, Telangana | Naadi Astrology Palm Leaves in Narayanpet, Telangana It's a great take to also finalize something in writing because your your mind is functioning at like a 2000 miles an hour is that even possible i don't know you tell me scorpios 11th of Online Nadi Astrology mercury's conjunct pluto and Nadi Astrology in your third house just like it was on the 29th of january have a think about what came to your attention on the 29th of january because there is probably part 2 that will come to your attention on the 11th of Online Nadi Astrology or maybe more information added to the table around the 11th of Online Nadi Astrology

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