darling, I would give you the moon and the stars.ïœĄđŠč°â§ïœĄđŠč°â§. . . pick a card.
a tarot reading about how you will be loved in ur next relationship, if you so desire. . . âËâżË°
all of the messages are channeled. . .âËâżË°
pile 1 --> pile 2 pile 3 --> pile 4
1. baby fawn: tender love, sweet love, baby love. . . aren't u the most precious thing on this barren earth? you remind them of fuji apples, baby fawns, precious ceramics. . . someone to cherish, to protect with all of their strength and all of their will. . .  something about you calls out the protector in them, something ancient. . . a savior complex for pretty princesses. something tells me you're not quite ready to receive a love this tender. not because of them but because of uuuu. because someone along the way treated you like shit, and u learned to adapt. you learned that being cherished and loved unconditionally is for other, to want softness is to be weak. you are now known as someone who does not need. someone who handles their own big girl shit. and yet. . . in the quiet hours, in the blue light before you sleep, you dream of a love that is . . . gentle. kind. you want a suuuunday kind of love. a love that brings you strawberries and wraps a blanket around your shoulders at night. a love where you can be small and cared for, something u perhaps lacked in childhood? the warrior and the princess live in the same body, always have, not everyone will understand that. . . but thats alright. they don't need to. this person does đŐ. .Ő𩯠they will leave u comfort food, red fruit in a bowl comes to mind, flowers chosen carefully, gifts wrapped in pretty gifting paper. the kind of love that notices, and that makes sure every single day u know that u are not too much, and that u are safe. your light is seen with them. let them in, baby. . . 2. sakura matcha: you are my way of life, the only way I know. . . I'll never let u go. . . late nights, messages typed and deleted, music being shared, shows being watched, screens glowing in the dark. too casual, the kind of casual that costs something. that is how this begins for the one who is coming toward you. in the ache of unsent and unsaid things. things said thru music, shows instead of using words. they're so afraid of being rejected by you that they don't know what to do with themselves except sending mixed signals and hoping u'll notice ;; notice me senpai. . . they will crave you the way you crave a song you can't remember the name of, desperately, with a kind of loving that embarrasses them daily. they'll view ur stories in the first thirty seconds, no shame there. they'll send u strange and funny stuff at 11pm, not the kind of thing you send to just anyone, and then disappear back into silence, heart hammering. . . wondering if u noticed? torturing themselves over u. why do u intimidate people this much? bad bitch energy. this person thinks you're way out of their league, they look at you, ur vibes, ur aura and they see someone who doest need them, someone complete or someone who could have anyone. so they stay in orbit, making u laugh, keeping you engaged, doing anything to stay in your presence just a little longer. if pile 1 was sunshine, you're the moon. mysterious, secretive, deep. . . they want to unravel all of ur secrets. the conversations, when they finally come in full, the real ones, the 2am ones, the ones where you say things you've never told anyone will feel like you've known each other in some previous life and just forgot. secrets. . . daydreams spoken aloud. there is something faintly forbidden in the energy here--- not scandalous, not illicit, but the kind of forbidden that lives in the imagination, the kind that lives in the what if. in the gap between what they want to say and what they're brave enough to say to ur face yet. give them a hint, baby cakes. just one. . u don't even have to make it easy. just let them know the door isn't locked. (â„ïčâ„)
3. yogurt bowl: pick me, choose me, love me. . . they are going to show up with their hands full. thats the first thing the cards want you to know. this persons love language is gift giving, its their mother tongue, the only fluency they've ever known for saying 'you matter to me'. they will find you the damn thing. specific flowers, the candy you've been craving, that vintage purse you've been unable to find anywhere online. . . the perfectly chosen, impossibly right thing. mind u, they're not buying your affection. that's just the only love language they fully trust themselves in. theres something younger about their energy. . . not immature, but earnest in the way that youth sometimes still is. they need to prove themselves to you. they need to show you that they are different. and the more you hold backâ the more you keep those cool eyes and that careful distance-â the more determined they become. your indifference to material gifts invigorates them. you are not unimpressed by the gifts. you just don't need them. what you actually need-- what would truly reach you, is someone who makes your life lighter. who listens when you're tired. who anticipates the thing before you've even named it. who handles the small irritations of existence so that you don't have to. acts of service. . . that's your real love language, even if you've never called it that. they can offer you that.. they can offer you far more than you currently believe they can. the generosity with things is just the beginning, it's the surface of a deeper well. beneath the grand gestures is someone who is learning, slowly, to offer their time. and you are going to be the reason they learn. be careful when it comes to ur trust issues though. not everyone who reaches for you is trying to take something. this one is trying to give. let them get close enough to try. not because they deserve your trust automatically... but because you deserve to find out what happens when you stop assuming the wound before it comes. you deserve sunshine. 4. pink flower: 18+ only!!!!!!!! you have bewildered me, witch. . . there is something about you, yes, specifically you, that does something to them. you walk into a room and something in their body receives a signal their mind hasn't caught up with yet. it is animal. it is old. it is the kind of pull that makes rational people do irrational shit. I keep getting the impression of white flowers when channeling this. . . vanilla on warm skin. body lotion. a scent that lingers after you've left the room, that they notice on their own clothes hours later and go still for a moment. you have bewitched them without even meaning to. there is something witchy in your energy, in the way your presence marks people. red lights. roses. the heat... the rush. this relationship is going to begin in the body, in the touch, in proximity, in tongues interlocked, in the relief of finally being close enough, because fro both of u, this is easier than words. you are both fluent in doing. in bed. in the way you look at each other when you think the other isn't watching. . . in giving head. the talking will come but first there's aching of. . . wanting. wanting to consume you. wanting to eat you whole. wanting you next to them at all times. touchy touchy people in here. outside of that particular heat, this person is goofy. . . charmingly silly. they will try to make you laugh when you're glaring at them. they will say ridiculous shit at exactly the wrong moment and it will work every time. humor as intimacy. getting close by laughing at each other. time and space air constraints in this connection, distance maybe? or schedules? or the particular taste of scarcity that makes everything feel more urgent. they want all of your hours. new magic wand by tyler the creator came to mind. don't call me selfish I aint sharing. . . a mutual devouring. consuming yourselves in each other. hawt. àŽŠà”àŽŠàŽż ËÍÌêłËÍÌ )â§
divider credits to @suupersonic (áŽÍËŹáŽÍ)ê€.ïŸ
