#I need some way to discourage people before they get that far

[shititskat]

Y’know, when I say “unfortunately we’re friends now” I absolutely mean it. You’ve just gotten on a terrible chaotic ride and there is no way off except death.

[lowkeyerror]

Congrats on Your Divorce

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Notes: Requested, fluff & smut, librarian!reader, divorced!Wanda, smut, fingering, thigh-riding, cunnilingus

Summary: You befriend Wanda, a regular at the library you work at, after learning about her divorce. The friendship becomes something more one day when you come over to help her with her sick kids. As your relationship progresses you even talk about buying a home together, which leads to a physical manifestation of how much you love each other.

An: It took me awhile because I got a little carried away. I hope I did your request justice 🙇‍♀️.

Masterlist

You enjoyed the mundane lifestyle that came with working at the library. There was a comfort that came with knowing that you worked in something of a community center. Being able to provide a service that for some was the highlight of their day. In this day and age having regulars at the library was a rarity, especially the adults. Kids would come after school for homework or for research purposes, but the adults were few and far between.

Technically it may have been weird that you had a favorite but you couldn’t help yourself. There was a woman named Wanda, she’d come once a week ask for a recommendation and sit there the whole day and read it.

She’d always make a comment or two on the book on her way out and it made you smile. It was good to know she appreciated your picks. Though there were other staff members she only really asked you.

When she missed one week, you found yourself discouraged. One week turned to two and so forth until it had been a month since you saw the woman.

“Y/n, it looks like your regular is back. She might need a little assistance,” one of your coworkers approaches you.

“What are you talking about?”

They give you a look that says ‘seriously’, “Ms. Recommendations, she’s in the non-fiction section looking a little worse for wear.”

You nod and make your way over to the section. There you find Wanda. Your coworker was not exaggerating. She looked so fragile as if she was just waiting for the tears to fall. She was staring at the books, but it was easy to tell that she wasn’t really reading anything.

“Looking for anything in particular,” you say softly, trying not to startle her.

She seems to snap out of her trance enough to try and answer you, “No, not today.”

It felt like she was speaking on autopilot. If it were another guest, you would’ve let her be, but this was Wanda. Perhaps it was a bit para-social but it felt like you knew her better than the average customer.

“I- I don’t mean to overstep, but are you alright?”

She lets out a tired sigh, “That obvious?”

You attempt to back track, “No… uh it’s just I haven’t seen you around in a while."

She looks away for a moment, “ Yeah, I um got a divorce. So I’ve been a hermit as of late.”

“Oh, congratulations.”

Wanda can’t help but laugh at your words, “Most people have been saying they’re sorry to hear, but congratulations? It’s kind of refreshing.”

You shrug, “Well I don’t think divorce is always a bad thing. It’s hard for sure, but it’s better than staying in a situation you don't deserve.”

“What if I was in the wrong?’ Her eyes are glued to the floor as she speaks.

“I may be overstepping again, but I doubt that's the case. You don't seem like the kind of person,” your tone doesn't make her argue, instead a look of relief crosses her face.

“I'm not,” she says taking a deep breath.

You smile at her, “Then it’s their loss.”

She smiles back at you, “I guess you’re right.”

Glad to have made her feel even a little bit better, you begin to leave the aisle she's in. You dint get far before there’s a gentle tug on your wrist. You turn back to stare into Wanda’s warm green eyes.

She’s nervous as she speaks, “I don’t know if I’m too old to be doing this, but fuck it. I could really use a friend right now and I was wondering if you’d be open to getting coffee or something, whenever you’re free.”

You stare at her for a few seconds before nodding, “I’m off in about 15 minutes, there’s a café a few blocks over that I think everyone should try at least once.”

Her excitement builds up in her features. She clears her throat to hide it, “I’ll wait for you by the YA novels?”

“Sounds perfect.”

From that day on Wanda wasn’t just a regular customer anymore, she was your genuine friend. She was also one of the sweetest people you had ever met in your life. She was unbelievably strong too.

The details of her divorce were quite messy. A touch of infidelity here and there, mixed with a custody agreement was a recipe for disaster.

You always offered to be there in any way you can’t for. She usually turns down your more serious offers for help, and sticks to fun small outings. You can tell that she’s somewhat embarrassed by her situation, but you don’t think there’s anything she should be embarrassed about.

“Y/n, I know I said I was free to go out today, but Tommy is sick and Billy isn’t doing that great either, can I give you a rain check?”

She called you and you could hear the tiredness and distress in her voice, “Let me come over and help you, Wands. Two sick kids is rough work, I know you could use a hand.”

She’s silent on the line, but the coughs and sinus filled conversation doesn’t stop.

Wanda sighs, “Okay, do you think you can bring me some medicine? I’ll text you some ingredients I need for soup too if that’s alright?”

“Whatever you need, I’ll see you in a bit,” you say simply.

You follow through on your word picking up various cough, cold, and fever medicines along with some cough drops. You nearly forget about the stuff for the soup, until Wanda texts you something she left off the ingredient list. After picking up everything you head to her house.

You’d been to her house before, but never when her kids were there. You had seen them with her a few times at the library, but back then you didn’t quite deduce that they were her children. It feels so obvious now, but Wanda was definitely a young mom in your opinion, or at least she looked like one.

You rang the doorbell and waited with the groceries in your hand. It took a moment but eventually the door swung open revealing Wanda. Though your hands were full, she’s the one who had bags under her eyes. She looked as though she would fall over any second.

“You’re a godsend Y/n,” she tries to take the bags from your hands but you don’t let her.

“And you’re sick too, here I figured this would happen,” you rummage through the bags and pull out a medicine that’s for adults.

“It’s drowsy.”

You nod, “I know, I figured you need the rest anyway, let me handle its.”

Wanda shakes her head, “Are you crazy? You think you can handle my two kids and me on your own?”

You smile at her, “You underestimate me, Maximoff. Let me show you what I can do.”

“We’ll see, but first come meet them properly.”

You sit the bags down in the kitchen, opting to take the medicine upstairs with you. She takes you to their room.

Tommy is propped up in his bed watching as Billy plays videogames from his spot on the floor.

“Tommy, Billy, this is my friend Y/n. She’s going to help us out today,” Wanda introduces you.

“The library lady,” Billy sounds congested as he speaks.

You nod your head enthusiastically, “ Yep, that’s me. I heard you boys were sick, so I brought some stuff to make you feel better.”

Tommy gags, “Ew medicine.”

You sympathize with him, “Ew is right, but it’s worth it I promise. In fact, I’ll sweeten the deal, you guys take your medicine, and I’ll make you the best soup of your life in return.”

“Better than mom’s?” Billy questions.

“ 1 million times better,” you egg him on.

Tommy is more hesitant, “I don’t know.”

You get closer to him, crouching so you can meet his level, “How about when you’re feeling better, we go out to the arcade and get some ice cream too.”

That seems to be enough for the boy, “That sounds awesome.”

While you’re chatting with them Wanda starts to prepare the medicine cups for the boys. They take the medicine with all the dramatics that children do.

“Ok, we’ll be back to check on you guys, shortly. Billy, get some socks baby. Tommy stay under the covers sweetheart."

The both of you exit the room and head back down the stairs. Wanda moves to start unloading the groceries, but you stop her.

“If you’re not going to fully rest, at least sit. I can make the soup,” you point to the barstools she has in her kitchen.

“Are you sure? I can help-"

You block her from opening the next bag. She looks into your gaze, which holds no feeling of malice or resentment. Instead she finds a warn and tender look behind your eyes.

“I’ve got it.”

She listens to your directions and takes a seat

She watches as you prep the ingredients, ever so often asking where she keeps certain things. Otherwise there is a fluid motion to your movements in the kitchen.

“You know you don't have to take them to the arcade just because they took the medicine, right?”

You pause slightly from chopping vegetables to look up at her, “I probably should’ve asked if it was okay with you first, but I don’t mind taking them. They seem like good kids, which isn’t a surprise at all considering they’re your kids.”

She beams at your words, “They’re a little more docile in this state, but they can be a handful at times. We haven’t really had a big outing like that since the divorce, I’m sure they’d appreciate it.”

“Then consider it done, as soon as they’re better let me know. We can all go out and have some fun.”

Wanda can’t help the feeling she gets hearing you talk so nonchalantly about going out with her kids. It’s something like a spark, that she hasn’t felt in a long time. She takes this time to really look at you, you’re stunning. Truth be told Wanda had always found you a little attractive, but she wrote it off as you just being conventionally good looking. However now, with you standing in her kitchen cooking for her and her kids. She’s starting to think it’s more than that.

“Do you like children, Y/n?”

“I have a soft spot for kids, it’s partially why I chose to work at the library. I had kind of a rough upbringing as a kid. It was just me and my mom, and money wasn’t all that great, but I remember her taking me to almost all the community events they hosted at the library. We spent a lot of time there. When I was old enough to go on my own, it was rare that I didn’t go. The library is such a haven for kids it’s one of my favorite things about it.”

Wanda felt herself melting under the sincerity of your words, “That’s really sweet.”

You start cooking down the vegetables before you answer, “Yeah, if I wasn’t so crazy about the library, I would’ve been a chef. I actually applied to a few culinary schools in high school, pretty ambitious but I had won a few competitions. I had offers and full ride scholarships to some of the best schools out there, but I chose to become a librarian instead.”

Wanda tilts her head to the side playfully, “So you weren’t just talking shit when you said you’re going to make a soup 1 million times better than mine.”

You laugh, “Technically I’m using the ingredients that you told me to get, so it’s more like our soup. I’m just tweaking a few measurements and cooking it a little different. It’s like a group project, if you will.”

Wanda laughs even harder, “You’re so full of shit.”

“Language, there are children present.”

Wanda rolls her eyes, “They’re upstairs."

“Children have super good hearing Wanda, trust me, I’m a librarian.”

She shakes her head with a small chuckle. She watches as the soup comes together a lovely aroma fills the kitchen, her mouth waters at just the smell.

“It smells delicious.”

You motion her over to the stove next to you. She scurries over, which makes you smile. She looks utterly adorable and ethereal at the same time. You began to notice it over the last few times you had hung out. Wanda was simultaneously the cutest and the most beautiful woman, you think you’d ever met in your life

“Taste,” you hold a spoon full of soup up for her.

She hesitates a little, but decides to just eat from the spoon while you hold it. Her eyes close as the flavors dance on her tongue. She lets out an involuntary moan, that has her blushing as soon as it leaves her mouth.

“Oh my god, that’s the best soup I’ve ever had in my life,” Wanda stares at you in awe.

“I hope the boys think so too.”

Wanda helps you fill the bowls for them, “They’re going to love it.”

True to her words the boys devour the soup going as far as to ask for seconds. Neither of you can deny them another bowl. Once they eat, you can see the food working in tandem with the medicine to tucker them out. Before they’re completely out of it you and Wanda get them ready for bed.

It feels more normal than either of you expected. By the time you’re done, both twins are now in bed. The tv plays something at a low volume, but you and Wanda are both aware that the kids will likely be asleep as soon as you leave the room.

When you leave you head back to the kitchen fixing 2 more bowls of soup for Wanda and yourself. You eat amongst each other with small chatter, but it’s comfortable. When you’re done, you almost have to fight Wanda to allow you to do the dishes.

She pouts, once again sitting at the barstool watching you clean.

“You haven’t let me help this whole time,” she whines.

“I’m here to help you, not the other way around,” you remind her.

Wanda places her hands on her hips, “But if you’re doing everything, what am I supposed to do?”

“Just sit there and look pretty,” you say without thinking.

Wanda feels her face heating up, losing track of how many times it has happened today alone, “Look pretty, huh?”

You can feel your ears heating with embarrassment, “oh I- well.”

“Oh my god are your ears turning red, that’s literally adorable. Are you flustered, Y/n?” Wanda teases.

You glare at her with faux-anger, “My ears? Your cheeks are just as red.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about?”

You wash your hands, quickly drying them before approaching her. You keep walking until there is virtually no space between the two of you. You look down at her, you don’t stop your eyes from dropping to her lips.

“Oh really?”

She looks up at you, her cheeks indeed, red like you had mentioned.

“And if they were?”

“Maybe I’d say that it’s adorable,” you use her words against her. “Or maybe…”

“Maybe what?” Her eyes dart to your lips.

You look back into her eyes, “Maybe, I’d kiss you.”

“I’d like that.”

That was all you needed to hear. She met you halfway and, in an instant, you were kissing. Your hand rested on the small of her back, while her hands locked around your neck. It was cliché but it was cute. The kiss itself was respectable, but still filled with a feeling of longing.

Wanda’s hands drop from your neck to lightly push you back, “I’m divorced with two kids Y/n-"

You stop her before she can even rant, “I know, Wanda. I’ve been here, maybe not the whole time, but most of it. I don’t care that you’re divorced and I’d love to get to know your kids. I’d love to get to know you better.”

“I feel like you already know me, Y/n. We’ve been friends for over a year now. We’ve spent so much time together, I’m just surprised you’re not tired of me yet.”

You take her hands in yours, “I could never get tired of you. I’m quite literally asking for more. Let me take you out some time.”

“Are you sure?”

It’s bold, but you place a quick kiss on her lips, “Positive."

From there things just seem to fall into place. You kept your promise to the boys, taking them out when they recovered from their sickness. Wanda was impressed by how well you mingled with them considering her ex always seemed to struggle to relate. However you, had no problem tapping into that childlike like amazement that the kids felt.

Soon after that outing, you and Wanda went on your first real date. You took her out to a nice restaurant. It was an upscale establishment, the prices weren’t even on the menu. Wanda tried to fret about how she didn’t know if she deserved this kind of treatment, but you always reassured her.

You believe she deserved the best and as long as you could give it to her you would.

It only took 4 dates before you asked her to be you girlfriends, not being the best at waiting. Luckily for you she agreed and truth be told if you would’ve asked her on the first date she probably would’ve said yes then.

At this point you’ve been dating for a little over a year. The twins are with their father for the weekend, and Wanda is staying over at your apartment.

The two of you are on the couch. She’s resting in your arms as you watch tv, “Wanda.”

She looks up, “Yes, detka.”

“How attached are you to your house?”

Her eyebrows furrow, “Why?”

You hold her gaze, “Is it crazy if I say that I want us to live together?”

Wanda plays with your fingers, “No, I don't think so.”

You kiss her forehead, “It’s just a thought.”

“You want to buy a house?”

You nod curtly, “We don't have to leave the area, I know the boys have school and I wouldn't want to pull them away or make them start fresh or anything, but I’ve been looking at some homes in the area. Something a little bigger, Billy and Tommy could both have their own room and a huge backyard. Maybe a dog, in the future.”

Wanda cups your face gently, pulling you down to kiss her, “I would love to buy a home with you Y/n.”

“Really?”

Wanda kisses you again, “Really.”

“I love you,” your eyes softening as the words fall from your lips.

“I love you too.”

Your lips are connected again, this time neither of you break the kiss. Instead Wanda shifts in your lap to straddle your waist. Her hands playing with the tiny hairs on the back of your neck. Your hands start at her thigh but end up sliding up to her hips, and soon your fingers are in contact with the cool skin of her stomach.

You aren’t able to stop yourself from kissing down her jaw. She moves her hair and cranes her neck to give you more access. Your teeth sink into her neck only for your tongue to soothe the skin. You suck the spot tenderly, causing little whines to emanate from Wanda.

“Y/n,” your name is breathless on her lips.

She doesn't have to say anything else for you to stand up with her still in your arms. You carry her to the bedroom. Once you’re in there and her feet are on the floor, you pull her shirt off. Yours follows after.

Wanda feels herself getting wet under your gaze. The way you take in her bare chest, eyes blown with want. While you stare she gets rid of the rest of her clothes. You eagerly do the same.

You pull her flush against your body. Skin heating upon contact.

“You’re perfect,” your thumb toys with one of her nipples.

Your head dips to take it into your mouth. You suck lightly, ever so often slowly fanning your tongue over the nipple. You do the same to the other nipple, while your hand cups her warmth. You moan at her wetness.

“ I need you,” she whispers.

You kiss her tenderly, backing her onto the bed. You’re gentle as you ease two fingers into her. She arches her back slightly, and her kiss becomes sloppier.

You’re in no rush as you slowly build pace. Her finger nails dig into your back.

“More please,” she buries her head in your neck.

You begin pumping at a faster pace, using your thumb to stimulate her clit. Her ragged breaths in your ear only turn you on even more.

You jolt as you feel her hand in-between your legs. Her fingers play through your folds and you hear her gasp in your ear.

“All for me baby?”

You nod, “All for you, Wands. Can I taste you, baby?”

“Fuck,” Wanda murmurs.

She pulls her fingers from you, signaling for you to suck them. You take them in your mouth, swirling you tongue around the digits, high off of your own taste.

Once her fingers exit your mouth, you maneuver down her body. You momentarily take your fingers out of her. She doesn’t have time to complain before you’re sucking on her clit.

“Holy shit,” she entangles her hands through your hair.

You keep eye contact with her as you lick, suck, and slurp her pussy. She throws her head back, taking her lip between her teeth. You can see sweat illuminating her body.

Soon you add your fingers back and you can feel her approaching her edge.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” she keeps repeating the mantra as she reach her peak.

You don’t stop when she cums on your tongue, only slowing your motions, to help her come back down.

“You did so good for me baby,” you say kissing up to her lips.

She shifts so her thigh is against your dripping cunt, “Your turn, my love. Use me.”

You see her flex her thigh, which causes you to moan, “Fuck, Wanda.”

Your hands rest on her shoulder as you begin to grind down on her. Her hands are on you, but the movements are all yours. Wanda watches with blown eyes as you fuck yourself on her thigh. Her hands climb up your sides to massage your breasts. You bite your lip as her fingers play with your nipples.

Wanda sits up slightly, just enough to get her mouth on your body. She sucks on near the top of your breasts, trailing hickeys across.

“I love it when you make a mess on my thigh, cum for me, moya lyubov.”

You cum all over her thigh. Her arms wrap around your midsection holding you steady as you shake. Her head rests against your chest, listening to your wild heart beat return to normal. She places a delicate kiss on your shoulder.

“I love you.”

You kiss the top of her head, “I love you too.”

Once you’re both cleaned up, you settle in bed for the night. You’re start out as the big spoon but soon Wanda turns to face you.

“I was so scared before you came into my life,« she admits.

“Wanda-"

She shakes her head, “Let me finish. I was so lost, I didn't know what to do, if there was anything I could do to feel like myself again. There were so many days I went through thinking I was unlovable. Then you show up, and all of those feelings and thoughts just leave. I’ve never felt so cared for. You make me remember all of the things I love about myself. You make love seem so easy, it feels obvious when you’re with me. I’ve never experienced a love like you’ve given me and I need you to know I love you too. I’ve never felt what I feel for you with anyone else.”

Wanda starts out loud and sure, but by the end her voice is quiet. She doesn’t break eye contact, fighting against her insecurities.

There are no more words shared between the two of you. Wanda kisses you with everything she is feeling and you return her fervor. She pecks you again before burying her head in your chest. You hold her tightly in your arms wondering how you ended up being so lucky.

Her words make emotion swell inside of you. Your voice cracks when you speak, “You are the love of my life. I was doing alright before, but you and the boys are truly everything I’ve been missing in my life. Getting to be with you, a part of your family, it means everything to me Wanda. Thank you, for letting me love you.”

[maryymaruu]

I present to you, the Iterator oc number two, the child that refused to be named, now having many, hah! _(:3 」∠)_

While I adore the true name I finally scrambled for him, and couldn't resist disclosing it, for lore reasons it'd be best to address him with his title;

Sentinel Of The Unforgiven, [SOTU] or just The Sentinel.

This one's novel is even longer, so for those who don't have the patience, the trivia board on the ref is a pretty good TLDR! ^^);

This guy needs to have quite a few more clarifications made first, as I'm stepping quite further away from the canon here, and even more into fanfiction/AU territory.

Some background;

[We're talking about one and the same group Three Signals (TS) is included in. They are neighbours of Sliver Of Straw, far away from in-game locations.]

- This group exists in a very mountainous area, and from the very beginning, the Benefactors decided it's more efficient to use their already existing underground tunnels (from drilling for Void Fluid) as a transportation modus; turned into an underground train system for Iterator construction process. That system runs quite far into the group, connecting Iterators like roots, with SOTU at the near center (first one built in the area).

- Due to some harsh weather conditions and poor decisions the city was equipped with "wind-breaking" walls, giving a quite claustrophobic effect. Citizens began feeling discomfort there even before resource problems.

- Once the resource demand problem became eminent, the citizens expressed lack of care or attachment to the city and/or the Iterator. It was agreed upon to simply use the underground trains to relocate to now already standing, various newer cities.

- The justice system is... blurry at best. This post is getting too long already so I'll fully explain it another time; for now it's only important to know SOTU is not the one judging the criminals, he merely holds them up to the verdict.

- The notion of "a stay in SOTU's city feels like a punishment in itself" became wide spread amongst the Benefactors. In face of necessity it evolved into an effort to make it a reality; SOTU was repurposed into a prison facility. Instead of upgrading him to be able to be more habitable, they completed the claustrophobic city with taller sealed walls and gates, and a new set of laws/taboos for the Iterator to obey. Making for a secure, depressing, fully automated trap box.

Now more about the Sentinel himself...

SOTU has always been a rather reserved personality that struggled to express emotion or weakness. There was a specific idea he had to live up to, (be it conditioned into him or self-imposed) of someone competent, serious and strong. Giving off a strict, cold and unapproachable first impression. The Group Senior that believes he has to carry the woes of the world on his shoulders alone and never break, in order to be a good example.

However, despite poorly expressing it, SOTU does deeply care about his people and about his peers. And always tried his best to be someone they can relay on, without directly admitting it though. Like a grumpy old man, would chew one out for making a mistake first, and then help them out of trouble, without sparing any effort.

Would never admit it, but feels quite hurt by how easily his citizens decided to abandon him, and resents them for what he's been turned into. He really tried to take care of everyone. He doesn't enjoy what his city has become, he doesn't enjoy being feared. Secretly wished it was a lot more like something that of TS's city... full of life, bonded and happy, but is unable to let go of the false idea what a Senior should be like, denying himself vulnerability to even express that.

The reformatting into a prison only worsened this problem. The new, additional programming discouraged acts of compassion or affection. (So that he doesn't pity the prisoners)

Despite best efforts, his group did not integrate very well. His ways of handling things left much to be desired, some labeling him a tyrant no one can ever reason with. Some just simply disliked him too much to ever relay on his advice. Communicating within the group was difficult, hence why eventually many stopped bothering and kept to themselves, or to smaller private cliques.

The repressed emotional impulses did catch up to him eventually, allowing for small acts of disobedience against the law.

Didn't stop SOTU from feeling it though. And feeling he sure did....

Those efforts were too little too late, inadequate to prevent the conflicts escalating into hostility. Once an arrest warrant was cast from the Benefactors above, there was nothing he could do. And once the poorly integrated group got a taste of connection against a "common enemy" it was over.

Delays, stalling, omitted reports, "errors", "lost" data, "unreceived" broadcasts... All in efforts to keep the prisoner numbers low, and make the stay of those present shorter and more bearable. Ignoring all reports about what was going on in TS's city in particular- hoping to at least protect something SOTU could never be.

(More to come)

TS got hurt, and the lively community on top was broken up. It is unclear who is responsible for the malware attack idea, nor who exactly deployed it, but SOTU feels fully responsible regardless. He wallows in ever growing guilt and regret since.

[topazy]

Tomorrow’s promise

Pairing: Daryl Dixon × reader, Rick Grimes × sister reader

Warnings: Swearing, violence, blood

Chapter: 5.04

Sweat drips from Father Gabriel's forehead as he leads you to his church; the outside of it was off-white with thick, dark brown wooden doors. It’s probably what discouraged most people with little weapons or strength from trying to break in.

When you reach the front steps of the church, Father Gabriel goes to unlock the door, but Rick puts his hand out in front of him. “Actually, I’d rather we check the place out first.”

Hesitantly he hands the keys over to your brother, with a defeated look on his face.

Rick and Michonne take the lead by going into the church first with their weapons raised. Maggie, Carol, Abraham, and Rosita go and check the outside of the building.

Daryl nudges you in the arm lightly, gaining your attention. “Are you coming?”

“I’m going to keep an eye out here.”

He nods, then goes inside with the others. You turn and stare at the wooded area you’ve just come from. When you felt eyes burning on you, Daryl checked for any signs someone else was nearby but found nothing. He was the best tracker you knew, but you still weren’t convinced.

“I don’t know the last time I saw a baby,” Father Gabriel says quietly. “It truly is a blessing to know that the world isn’t ending with us. Life goes on.”

You automatically look at Carol, who’s standing far enough away that she can’t hear the conversation. “Yeah, my brother and I are really lucky we’ve still got them.”

“Your brother is…?”

“Rick, the one that just took your keys.”

He lets out a nervous laugh, “well it’s nice to know that some families are still together.”

Smiling softly, you point towards Carl, who’s holding his sister. “That’s his kids, Carl and Judith, and this is Jace, my son.”

When father Gabriel waves and smiles at Jace, you start to feel bad; he has no idea of the shitstorm that could possibly be coming his way. Or maybe that’s just the feeling of paranoia after being through something so traumatic.

Changing the subject, you look over at the sign with the church's name on it. “Who’s St. Sarah?”

“Saint Sarah is the patron saint of the Romani people in Folk Catholicism. She’s viewed as a figure of comfort and hope."

The memory of the last church you attended resurfaces vividly. Rick's whistle abruptly brings you back to reality. “Place is empty; nobody is inside.”

Rick hands the keys back to father Gabriel and goes to take Judith from Carl, but before he gets the chance, Abraham is beside him, with a hell-bent look in his eyes. “We found a short bus out back. It doesn’t run, but I bet we could fix that in less than a day or two. Father here says he doesn’t want it. Looks like we found ourselves some transport. You understand what’s at stake here, right?”

“Yes, I do.”

Michonne raises her eyebrows slightly. “Now that we can take a breath…”

“We take a breath, we slow down, and shit inevitably goes down.”

“We need supplies no matter what we do next,” you chime in. “Food, water, ammunition, and we need to find supplies for the kids as well.”

“Short bus ain’t going anywhere,” Daryl says before picking up the squirrels he hunted earlier and taking them into church.

As everyone starts to go into the small building, Glenn stops in front of Abraham, “one way or another, we are gonna do what Rick does; we aren’t splitting up again.”

Sasha, Bob, and Tara all tell him the same thing as they go inside. You sigh at his frustrated look when it's just the two of you on the steps. “The last couple of days have been a lot for all of us, and up until we got out, Rick thought his daughter was dead. Just give him time to process things.”

“What do you think he’ll do?”

You shrug, “whatever he thinks the safest option is, but if you want my honest advice, don’t badger him. Rick’s never responded well to it; he needs to see things for himself before making a decision.”

—

Daryl’s fingers dig into the wooden drawer, taking most of the weight of it when picking it up from opposite sides. There was a removable panel on the floor in one of the back rooms, which was partially covered by the drawer.

“Do you think he knows this is here?”

“No,” Daryl lets out a grunt when you put the heavy object against the wall. He pulls open the bottom drawer. “clean it out and put a few blankets in it; it should be safe for Jace and Judith to sleep in.”

“Good eye.”

You move the rug on the floor to cover the panel; it was better to have the hidden escape a secret for now. Daryl only found it because he went into the crawl space from the outside.

“We could probably fit five people in this room. It might be safer for you and the kids to sleep in here, at least if there’s a way out.”

Gently you tuck strands of hair behind his ear before stroking his cheek. Even though none of you will ever feel safe again, gazing into his blue eyes makes you feel more at ease knowing he's alive. You swallowed deeply, grateful for the presence of so many people you care about, yet the fear of losing them was nearly overwhelming.

Sighing, you remove your hand. “we should get ready.”

The majority of your group was going to the nearby town to search for supplies. Abraham, Rosita, and Eugene were going to work on fixing the bus while Carol and Daryl went to collect water.

“Wait, wait just a minute.”

Daryl holds you by the wrist, his thumb drawing small circles over your skin. His touch leaves you feeling hot and itchy, but when he doesn’t say anything, you grow worried. “Daryl, what is it?”

“I just wanted to look at you for a minute longer.”

Your eyes sweep over his face, and it takes everything in you to not burst into tears. His bruised and swollen face looks so painful, and although he hadn’t outright said it, you knew Daryl would be blaming himself for Beth being taken. All you wanted to do was take his pain away.

“I can see the wheels turning behind your eyes; what is it?”

It takes you a moment to figure out how to answer him. “I’m scared. Those people are still out there; we shouldn’t be splitting up; it’s not safe.”

“The supply run will be fine with Rick leading it, and as soon as red has the bus working, we’ll get the hell out of here.” When a single tear rolls down your cheek, he steps forward and wipes it away with the pad of his thumb.

“I’m scared of myself,” you say quietly. “When they pointed a gun at my head and ripped Jace from my arms, I knew I’d do anything to get him back, even if it meant killing every one of them.”

He kisses the crown of your head, then pulls you into him; his stubble rubs against your face. “That’s because you’re a good mom.”

“Promise me you’ll be safe out there. I don’t want to lose you again.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll come back to you.”

—

Sitting on the steps of the church, you smile when Carl comes and sits down, his dad’s sheriff's hat scuffing the side of your face. The sun was splitting through the tree line, so you’d left Jace inside while you kept watch, not wanting his face to burn.

You shuffle over slightly, then look at him. “You doing okay, munchkin?”

He looks hesitant at first but eventually speaks, “…do you remember the last time we were at a church?”

“It was the day you got shot.”

Your head had been racing since finding this place; it brought back everything leading up to the church as well. Dale was trying to tell you there was something wrong with Jace’s hearing. T-dog slicing his arm while he tried to get you away from the oncoming herd of walkers, finding out the smell of the dead keeps walkers away, Sophia running away. It was easy to forget everyone has different trauma from that day.

“Shane killed Otis to save me.”

Taken aback, you've made every effort to conceal everything from Carl, but it wasn't enough. In a low voice you say, “nothing he ever did was on us. Shane, god, he… Shane loved us; he loved your dad, his son, but he became unwell. Unraveled. The man he died as wasn’t the same person who was there while you grew up; his own fears and paranoia got the better of him.”

“My dad always says I’m to look for the silver linings, even in bad situations.”

“Cool scar?”

Carl chuckles, and the first real smile you’ve seen in a long time appears on his face. “If I was never shot, then we never would have met Maggie, Hershel, or Beth. My dad doesn’t trust Father Gabriel.”

“Do you?”

“I think he’s just scared. But looking out for others is the right thing; it’s what my mom would want me to do.”

The look in his eyes reminds you, Lori, she was compassionate and would have done anything to help those in need. The person Lori was before and after the apocalypse was different, but who hadn’t changed? The sister-in-law you knew from years ago would be agreeing with her son.

You place your hand over his, “she would be so proud of you, Carl.”

He starts to say something, but Rick comes into view and calls you both over to help bring in the supplies they’ve found.

—

“Sure you don’t want anything?”

“I’m fine for now, but thanks.”

Folding her arms over, Rosita shakes her head, “you’ve been on watch most of the day. And in case you’ve forgotten, you need to keep your strength up.”

Since the group came back from the supply run, the others had taken turns to join you in keeping watch. Aside from checking on Jace, who was being watched over by Maggie, you stayed outside. The gut feeling you had was preventing you from settling; something wasn’t right.

“I’m sure they will be back soon?”

“Who?”

Rosita rolls her eyes playfully. “I don’t know Daryl well, but from what you told me, he’s a survivor.“

Daryl and Carol had been gone for hours. They left fairly early, and it was now nighttime. Maybe if they were back, you wouldn’t feel so uneasy. Knowing Rosita was right, you sigh, “once you’ve all finished eating, I’ll swap.”

Happy that she got you to agree, she smiles and goes back inside. “Abraham and I will take over from you guys soon.”

—

Forehead creasing together, you go slightly further out of the perimeter you would keep watch over than discussed. After circling around three times in search of Bob, a sinking feeling began to develop in the depths of your stomach.

With the darkness making it harder to see, you hold onto a small tree to help keep you steady while glancing down a steep hill in front of you. It’s not until your finger runs over a smooth patch on the tree that you finally look at it; squinting, you take in the smooth mark on it.

It was a marking done by a knife.

Not having a chance to put the pieces together, the crunch of branches coming from behind causes you to spin fast on your heels and come face to face with a blonde-headed woman that you recognize from terminus.

Twirling an axe in her hand, she goes to raise her hand, but you stab her under the chin with a pocket knife. She drops her weapon while scrambling to pull the knife from her face; you take the opportunity and kick her in the stomach, causing her to fall down the hill.

“Fuck.”

Slowly backing away from her body, it takes you a few seconds to process what just happened; you grab her axe and rush back towards the church.

Completely out of breath by the time you reach the doors, you shove them open forcefully and then stumble to your knees. The adrenaline you were running was starting to crash, causing you to feel shaky and weak. You feel stunned for a moment while staring at the axe; now in the light, you can see how much blood is on it. It looks like equipment fitting for a slaughterhouse.

Just as you toss it to the side, just as Rick kneels in front of you, “is the blood yours?”

You shake your head.

“What the hell happened out there? Are you hurt?”

Sasha looks outside the doorway. “Where's Bob?”

“They’ve found. The people from Terminus know we are here, and I think they have Bob."

[slytherinshua]

A JERK. OR NOT?

genre. fluff. warnings. eunseok is a tiny bit jerk... he teases a lot. but he's actually whipped. pairing. eunseok x fem!reader. wc. 1.9k. request. requested by @eternalgyu: JDJSJS OK LISTEN EUNSEOK ACADEMIC E2L- HES ACTUALLY BULLYCORE TO HIS CLOSE FRIENDS BUT HES ALSO THE SWEETEST WHEN HES IN LOVE like he would make u miss ur bus after school and it would rain but then would walk u home w an umbrella HSJSJSJ IM SO DOWN BAD FOR HIM a/n. hehe i ate up this req TBH EUNSEOK IS SO HIGH SCHOOL BOYFRIEND THO??? i literally love him what

You had no idea how you had ended up in this position; somehow charming the school’s most popular guy. Most popular and biggest jerk. But God, who even cared if he was mean when he looked like an angel sent down from heaven to grace the school grounds?

Whenever someone new came to the school, there were several things that they were immediately made aware of. Most of them were given a list or told directly by one of the older students, while others learned naturally within a week of being at Chungdam High. 

First? Eating outside was infinitely better than eating in the canteen.

Second? Being late was worse than being absent.

And third? Song Eunseok was the king of the school.

New students could probably just tell from the way he carried himself that he knew he could get anyone to do what he wanted. He was lazy, slept in class, cut in line at the snackbar, toyed with the younger students for his own amusement. He never truly bullied people, but he tread the line sometimes, and you didn’t like it.

You weren’t new to the school. You had been attending since you graduated middle school, and you were ever aware of all 3 of these things. It wasn’t until you were in your graduating year that the third thing became as apparent as ever. For some reason— whether it was a Summer glow-up that you weren’t aware of, or a dare from his friends, or whether he had truly always liked you— at the very beginning of the year, Eunseok had asked you out.

You thought that rejecting him the first time would discourage him from his… fixation. But, to your dismay, after coming back from the fall break, he seemed as determined as ever to win you over. He even somehow got the seating arrangement to change so he sat right behind you. You spent the fall months trying to ignore his constant pestering and note passing. He liked to kick your feet under the table as well.

You didn’t really mind the most handsome guy at school paying attention to you, but you were confused. You definitely weren’t going to blindly accept his offer to be your boyfriend without first getting to know him, which was your secret mission for now.

Given that you didn’t go out of your way to avoid him, and still engaged in conversations with him, Eunseok kept his hopes up despite your original rejection. He was more sensible than his reputation might have painted for him. Yes, he enjoyed teasing people just to see their annoyed face, but bullying was a step too far even for him. 

Maybe it was his need for attention, but he thrived on anything he could get. Whether it was the girls all having crushes on him or the boys all being jealous of him— he tried to make sure that he was at the top of everyone’s mind. But he wasn’t a bully. Anyone with any sense would know that Chungdam High did not have a bullying problem, but if anyone were to fill in that spot, it would probably be Eunseok and his friends.

It was because of this ambiguity that you weren’t quite sure whether you should be wary of Eunseok or not. He had never shown an interest in you before, and you wanted to be positive that his affection was sincere before allowing your heart to be affected by his flirting tactics.

Flirting? Yeah, he was quite good at that, you realized after a week of his attention. Only because he had mastered flirting in a way that was not cliche or cheesy, but hanging in that sweet spot of summoning butterflies every time a word flew out of his mouth. Along with his stupidly attractive smirk that appeared whenever you blushed because of his words, you were quickly failing in your plan to be unaffected by him until you were sure you wanted to accept his offer.

It was a delicate balance of your brain’s hesitance and your heart’s curiosity. You had never been in love, and though sometimes you didn’t want to accept it, you craved experiencing that more than anything.

It was a Thursday afternoon, and you were sitting in the library during your free period. You had come in to get some work done, but instead you found yourself mulling over how Eunseok had acted around you for the last week. You still couldn’t tell whether he was being genuine or not, and that frustrated you. You decided you would just ask him the next time you saw him. Worst case scenario, you would discover that he really was just a jerk trying to play with your emotions.

It seemed as if he wanted that ‘next time’ to be right now, because he pulled out a chair across from you and sat down. He crossed his arms and propped up his feet on the table, blatantly ignoring library etiquette. You shook your head and scoffed, turning your attention back to your very blank notebook.

“You’ve been in here for an hour yet I haven’t seen you turn a single page.” Eunseok started, a smirk already playing on his lips. He had his secret hopes and suspicions that he might be the reason why you were so distracted today. He needed to test out the waters first, though. Your cheeks immediately coloured at being caught, and Eunseok was given a surge of confidence.

“If you’re not planning to study anyway, how about I buy you something at the snack bar? Hello Panda, right? Those are your favourite?” He was already standing up by the time you found yourself nodding your head. You had no choice but to pack up your books and follow him.

“Hey,” You started, taking the chance to ask him your question while he was buying the snacks for you. “Do you seriously like me? This isn’t some stupid dare that Sungchan made you do, right?” 

He was silent for a few moments— maybe the first time you had ever heard him stop and think. He grabbed the packet of Hello Panda from the bottom of the vending machine and turned to you.

“Yes. I actually like you.” His face was almost completely stonelike. He was trying not to express anything that could give away just how much he was entirely whipped for you. You could see it in his eyes, though. They looked nervous awaiting your answer.

“Really?” You asked skeptically, needing one more confirmation before you would allow yourself to fully believe him. You wanted to believe him. It was hard trying to ignore his affections towards you every day when your brain kept telling you to take this chance and experience love for the first time. 

“Yes. Really. How long are you going to keep asking that?” He said, a little on edge from the situation. It was uncomfortable to have to confess so openly. He could tease you all day without feeling nervous, but when you were staring at him so closely, he started to feel vulnerable. 

“Okay. Just making sure…” You grabbed the Hello Panda from his hands and walked off, heart racing just a little faster than your mind. He really liked you? So then… should you ask him out? You shook off the thought as you walked outside. Your bus would be arriving any minute, and you wanted to get home to think in the comfort of your bedroom.

You frowned as you stepped outside. It was raining— a small sprinkle for now, but it looked like it would only get heavier. You didn’t bring an umbrella. You checked your phone for the time.

Shit.

It was already 4:08. Your bus was probably already close to the bus stop. You took off running, eyes widening as you rounded the corner. The bus was already leaving. 

“No- No! Come back!” You shouted helplessly, slowing down as you caught up to the bus stop. You panted, scowling at your luck. You would’ve been on time if Eunseok hadn’t distracted you by buying you snacks. You supposed you shouldn’t blame him too much. It was a nice gesture. You were doubtful that the Hello Panda would stay nice if you had to walk home in the rain, though. There wasn’t another bus for over 30 minutes.

“Hey! How could you just leave like that!?” You heard a shout and turned. Eunseok was running towards you, his hand shielding his face from the rain that had gotten significantly heavier since you had reached the shelter of the bus stop. It looked like he didn’t have an umbrella either.

“What do you mean?” You muttered, looking away from him to stop your heart from racing further. 

“You’re really not going to say anything?” He asked weakly. 

“Get out of the rain.” You said, hoping to divert the conversation from the topic you still weren’t entirely sure about.

“Not until you give me an answer.” He said firmly and you sighed. “Please, I’ll stop if you say so… But I need you to say it. I’ve liked you for a year now. If you don’t tell me to stop then I’m seriously going to cross a line.” He warned, heart all choked up in his throat. 

You weren’t sure what to say or do. Eunseok stood, getting soaked from the rain, waiting anxiously for your response. You would be lying if you said that his flirtation over the past months hadn’t had an effect on you. You felt the sparks fly— you had reason to think that it could work out. 

“I’ve never… dated before.” You confessed nervously.

“That shouldn’t- No, that doesn’t matter. All that matters is if you want to.” He reassured you, his hopes rising every second that you didn’t say no.

“Then… I like you, Eunseok.” You whispered, just loud enough for him to hear it. Even though you said it softly, it rang around his head like an alarm. 

You liked him?

You liked him.

You liked him.

He couldn’t contain his elation, and rushed forward, capturing you in his arms securely. Though he was soaking wet from the rain, having him hold you felt… pleasant. Much nicer than you had ever anticipated. His touch was cold against your skin but your heart felt warm. Droplets of water from his hair dripped onto your shoulder as you hesitantly reached around to reciprocate the hug. 

You heard him giggle. It was adorable. You had rarely seen him smile unless it was a sarcastic smirk, but hearing that sound of pure joy coming from his mouth and knowing that it was because of you triggered your own happiness to spike. It felt nice. Really nice. You didn’t want to let go of the hug, so even when Eunseok started to move away and apologize for hugging you so suddenly, you pulled him back and buried your head further into his chest. He was taken aback by your sudden action.

“You’re so… cute.” He whispered. You smiled, colour rushing to your cheeks. You hid your face even more just in case he saw. His teasing was bad before, but now that you were sure you liked him, it wouldn’t be annoying, it would be embarrassing.

Unfortunately for you, he somehow did catch a glimpse of the blush and didn’t let it go for the entire walk home. Maybe he was still just a little bit of a jerk.

↳ riize taglist: @eternalgyu,, @kangtaehyunzzz,, @weird-bookworm,, @haecien,, @seolboba,, @cyberpunksunwoo,, @cosmicwintr, @chiiyuuvv,, @evalevaeva

[wntrs0ldier]

AN OFFER II · 04

pairing: mob!bucky x reader words: 3,4k warnings: mafia, language, violence, mature themes, dark themes, smut, punishing, spanking, edging, toxic behavior,

Bucky brought his hand up to your face. “You know I won’t hurt you,” he said. His hand slid a little lower; it gripped your jaw, and his fingers dug almost painfully into your cheeks. “But,” he licked his lips, shrugging, “you lied to me. And you won't get away with it.”

series masterlist

The situation you got yourself into was strikingly similar to your last date with John Walker — you were sitting in a fancy restaurant, trying not to show how much you needed some man's favor. There were also a few differences; seated in front of you was not John, but Adrian Lancy, it was not about a marriage proposal and your future, but the future of your gallery, and most importantly, Bucky had no idea about any of this. Although, he knew you were going out — he would have noticed your disappearance anyway — but you told him you were having dinner with Connie. You didn't think Bucky would want to make sure that was really the case, but you preferred to be safe than sorry, and asked your friend to lie if necessary. Connie didn't even think about it; she agreed before you finished your sentence.

Earlier, you didn't see Adrian as a threat — he didn't seem like someone who would go too far to get his way. Nevertheless, you were all smiles between the meals. Why? Because facing the fact that you had a husband, rather than just imagining it, caused some unexplained change in him, and from a sensible young man you were pinning your hopes on, he became someone gripped by a obsession; his propositions for meetings sounded a little more aggressive, lost their previous lightness, and you eventually grew afraid. Not about yourself — whenever the ring on your finger entered your field of vision, you forgot about any fear. It seemed to you that no one could hurt you, not when you bore the name of Barnes. 

But the gallery was different.

“I'm going to Paris soon,” Adrian began. “On business, of course, not for pleasure,” he added, as if you were to take him for a man who has nothing to do but travel. 

“Mhmm.”

“I thought you could come with me,” he continued. Surprised by the processes that must have occurred in his mind, you raised your eyebrows. “You know about art,” he hurried to clarify, “and I'd love to buy some pieces for my new apartment. I will pay you for this service.”

“You know that there are people you can actually hire for this. People you won't spend that much on.” You tilted your head to the side, watching him carefully. “Because I am expensive. Very expensive,” you said, hoping to discourage him. 

“I want you.”

“Adrian…” you sighed. “I can't come to Paris with you just like that.” 

Not hiding his disappointment, he pressed his lips tightly together. “Well,” he shrugged casually, “if you don't go with me, you won't see any more of my money. And I'll make sure that no one will ever invest in you again. In short, I will destroy you, Y/N. So you'd better think it over and give me an answer by the end of the week.”

Refusing to let any negative expression cast a shadow on your face, you watched him. You couldn't give him the satisfaction, even if, when agreeing to this meeting, you didn't expect it to turn out this way. The change you feared earlier had just taken a full turn — much faster than you thought. “Sure.” You forced a sweet smile. “I’ll think about it.”

A waiter appeared at the table. At first you thought it was just a routine check; that he was making sure you weren't missing anything. Only after you gave him a little more conscious attention did you notice a bottle of wine in his hands. A very expensive bottle. As if Adrian wanted to let you know that he had the resources you needed, and that he was spending his fortune on something as unnecessary as wine, which was only meant to impress.

But Adrian seemed confused, too. “There must be some mistake. I didn’t order any wine.” 

“I was told it is from Mr. Barnes.”You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling an unpleasant warmth spilling all over your stomach. You stared at the bottle in a stupor. So he knew — Bucky knew very well where you were, which meant he also knew who you were with.

You weren't sure how long you had been standing in front of the door to your apartment, but eventually realized that such behavior qualified as absurd — the accompanying fear, that you had been convinced you lacked only a few hours earlier, was undoubtedly irrational. Or at least that's what you had to trick yourself into thinking in order to finally grab the door handle. 

You hung up your purse on a hanger and slipped the high heels off your feet. You were able to name at least five much scarier situations that had occurred in your entire life, yet you couldn't recall the last time you felt this kind of anxiety. You didn't even understand where it was coming from; after all, Bucky cared about you; he couldn't harm you. 

When you turned around, ready to go deeper into the apartment, Bucky was standing at the end of the hall, right by the exit. His damp hair, loose t-shirt and sweatpants, fresh wounds on his knuckles indicated that he must have been after training with Steve. You swallowed hard at the thought that Bucky, having found out where and with whom you were actually spending time, needed to beat something, in this case, fortunately, a punching bag.

“Was it good?” Bucky asked, approaching you slowly. “The wine,” he clarified. Without taking your eyes off him, you nodded cautiously, causing him to squint. “What is it?” His mouth curved into a playful smirk. “You’re not scared, are you?” 

“I can’t really tell…”

Bucky brought his hand up to your face. “You know I won’t hurt you,” he said. His hand slid a little lower; it gripped your jaw, and his fingers dug almost painfully into your cheeks. “But,” he licked his lips, shrugging, “you lied to me. And you won't get away with it.”

You gawked at him — at the stern expression on his face, at his darkened eyes and reddened, slightly parted mouth. Whatever he intended, you could feel yourself getting wet.

He grabbed your wrist; it ached from the power of the pressure Bucky wielded, but the feeling only intensified the sensation. He dragged you behind him, and you almost tripped over your own feet — he wasn't walking that fast; it was your limbs that seemed frail and numb. 

“Bed,” Bucky commanded as soon as you reached the bedroom. Massaging your sore wrist by instinct, you went in that direction, your steps wobbly. You settled on the middle of the mattress. Bucky came closer. “Turn around.” 

Captivated by his massive, heavy frame, under which you hoped you were about to end up, fascinated by the calmness and dominance he radiated, you couldn’t stop looking at him. 

“Turn around,” he said again, much slower than before. “I’m not gonna ask you again.” 

Your mouth went dry. Finally obeying his order — not in fear of the consequences, but looking forward to further development of the situation — you turned around. Bucky placed his hand between your shoulder blades and with pressure forced you to lean forward; so you landed on your knees, additionally supporting your hands on the mattress. 

He lifted your dress above your hips, a quiet snort escaped his mouth. “You fucking kidding me?” Bucky clicked his tongue disapprovingly, shaking his head, hooking his fingers under the hems of the lace pants you were wearing. He pulled the material lower, completely exposing your ass, sending a wave of heat over your entire body. 

You got up one knee first, then the other, making it easier for Bucky to strip you of your underwear. Then, he grabbed a piece of your dress and pulled you to him; as your hands detached from the mattress, he reached for them and tied tightly with your pants. The fabric, digging into your wrists, turned out to give you a surprising amount of pleasure.

Bucky pushed you forward again, this time far harder. Deprived of the possibility to support yourself, the front of your body fell on the bed, while your ass still remained up. All you could do was turn your head to the side — other than that, you were completely helpless, dependent on his mercy.

It seemed, however, that he didn't have any for you. You realized this when you felt a sharp, piercing pain, accompanied by a loud clap — Bucky’s hand landed on your ass cheek, and it landed hard. Shocked by this new and unfamiliar sensation, you shouted, your eyes filled with tears. 

Bucky spanked you again. Your body trembled, and only a muffled gasp came out of your mouth this time. 

Another slap — you felt your skin burning and stinging in that spot, getting more and more tender; you were painfully aware of this as his hand, once again, smacked your ass rapidly. You moaned, your back arching, your pussy almost dripping, asking to be filled. But that sweet torture was nearly as good. 

“More?” he rasped, breathing heavily. You weren't sure how to respond; he was punishing you, so if you asked for more, would he actually give you what you wanted? And if you refused, would he stop? 

“Y/N,” Bucky pressed. 

“More,” you replied quickly, your voice weak. 

“More what?”

At that moment, your mind wasn't in the best place for the logical, coherent sentences he always expected from you. “I want you to spank me more. Please,” you exhaled.

“You don’t wanna talk, so I’ll make you use your words. Make that pretty mouth of yours work.” 

Bucky fulfilled your request, and you almost jumped up on the mattress, clamped your eyelids shut and let out a loud whine — that one was definitely stronger than the others, causing goosebumps all over your heated body. 

The bed sunk behind you, signaling his arrival. The t-shirt he had thrown off landed silently somewhere on the floor. Your lips parted, releasing a long moan as the tip of his cock brushed hard against your wet, throbbing cunt. He buried into your core painfully slowly and lazily; you felt his hardness spreading inside you, filling all the space you could give him. 

Bucky clenched his hands on your hips and began to thrust into you. The pain radiating from your cheeks mixed with the surging pleasure, creating a combination you could quickly become addicted to. Gasping loudly, he pounded into you again and again; immediately he reached to your head, slipped his fingers into your hair and tightened them there. He turned your head to the side so he could see at least part of your face — the changes taking place on it. He wanted to control your pleasure. Because as you, stimulated by spanking and waiting, began to get closer to an orgasm faster than you could expect, Bucky suddenly stopped. He slid out, leaving behind only emptiness and a devastating lack of satisfaction.

“Jamie, please-” you choked out. 

“Don’t Jamie me,” Bucky replied sternly. He leaned forward, putting the weight of his body on yours. He pulled your head slightly away from the mattress, his mouth hanging right next to your ear. “You lied to me today, Y/N.”

You nodded immediately, ready to agree to everything he wanted. 

“You know that what you did was wrong? Hmm?”

“Yes. Yes, I know. And I'm sorry.”

“I don't want your sorry. I want you to never lie to me again. You are my wife and I won't have it, do you understand?” he said, the words seeping out through his teeth. 

“I understand, but please-”

Bucky clenched his fingers harder in your hair. “Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“You promise what, Y/N?” he inquired impatiently, although at that moment it seemed like he had all the time in the world.

Taking another deep breath, you gathered the strength and all the concentration you had in you to say those few words he cared so much about. “I-I promise to never lie to you again.”

Bucky moved slightly away, left a kiss on the nape of your neck, then straightened up. He entered you again, and again you felt that blissful fullness. At first you got the impression that he was still fucking some discipline into you, but the rising sensations made you think that he was actually rewarding you for understanding your mistake and promising to do better.

In that position — with your hips up — his dick quickly found the right spot and hit exactly where it needed to. Wet, well lubricated with all your juices, it was sliding in and out smoothly, bringing you more rapture than you could beg for. With loud, desperate cries, you were praying to your god, taking his name in vain — the one who was just fucking you senseless. Because Bucky couldn’t be just a human; he was too perfect, too beautiful, too merciful as he forgave your sins. 

You clenched around his cock, your eyes rolled back as consciousness left your mind. Apart from the overwhelming release, you also felt Bucky's load spilling into you; he, too — with a few last thrusts — let out a few whimpers, crowned by a throaty growl, and his body slumped against yours. His chest, pressed to your back, rose and fell as he tried to normalize his breathing. He pulled away from you to free your wrists as quickly as possible; your hands dropped lifelessly, too weak and too useless.

“Let’s clean you up, hmm?” Bucky suggested; surprisingly gently for the man he was just a moment ago. 

“I want to stay here,” you muttered with half of your face still in the bed sheets. Once again you felt his body pressing against yours as laid a tender kiss behind your ear.

You woke up to an empty bed. 

Your sore body covered with a blanket, the curtains closed. The watch on the nightstand said four in the morning. 

The urgent need to use the toilet dissuaded you from further sleep. You didn't feel fully awake until you were in the shower — as the warm water washed over your body, you wondered where Bucky had gone at such an early hour. You hoped that three months of hard work in Italy would give him some more space here in New York.

You got out of the shower, removed the remnants of your makeup, brushed your teeth, then returned to the bedroom. Curiosity was stronger than tiredness, besides, you felt rested enough, maybe even too awake for any more sleep. You put on one of Bucky's t-shirts, rummaged from his side of the closet, and left the room. You didn't have to search for long — the warm glow pouring out of the living room immediately caught your attention.

Bucky was sitting on the couch — under the light of the lamp standing over him, he was looking through some papers scattered on the coffee table. Full concentration on his face, marked by a deep wrinkle between his brows.

“What are you doing?” you spoke. 

He glanced up at the sound of your voice. “Checking the account statements from Sapphire Dune and Marble Aurora.” Rubbing his eye, Bucky sighed with clear tiredness. 

Your forehead creased as the names of your father’s casinos rang in your ears. You haven't thought about them once lately, so you wouldn't expect it from Bucky either. On the other hand, your Family's affairs were now his concern. 

With your arms folded across your chest, you walked closer to the couch and peeked at the documents. “Something wrong with them..?”

“No,” he assured, smiling softly. “They’re doing really… decently.” 

“So maybe I should stick to them…” you murmured. 

Bucky raised his eyebrows, watching you with a surprise. He reached out his hand to you in an inviting gesture. You took it and sat down right next to him; so close that your thighs touched. He didn’t say a word, waiting for you to tell him everything that was bothering you.

“I lied to you earlier too,” you confessed. “I lied that I don’t need money. And it’s not like I have to close the gallery in a week or something, but…” You gasped. “Some funding is always useful. And Adrian seemed like the perfect sponsor until-” you hesitated, shrugging. “But now he is acting weirder than ever and-”

“Did he do something to you?” Bucky asked right away, interrupting you.

“No, he didn’t,” you protested. “A couple hours ago, he offered me a trip to Paris,” you began, and Bucky’s forehead furrowed at those words. “He said no one will ever invest in the gallery again if I turn him down. And I can't afford it, I can't ask for your money, because I want to make money, not take it out of the house-”

“Y/N, you make money,” Bucky claimed, demonstratively lifting one of the papers. “It's all here,” he added, his brows drew together. “Besides, is using my — our — money really worse than selling your time to this fucking creep?” 

Feeling more and more resigned, you let out a heavy breath. “Bucky…”

“You don't like him, you don't feel comfortable around him, the business isn't going as you would like it to. Or am I wrong?” He was looking at you expectantly, although he didn't actually need any confirmation — he saw the answer written all over your face. He touched your cheeks, his fingers spread on your skin, his thumbs caressing your cheekbones. “You are my wife, and it is my job to take care of you. You have to let me do exactly that, Y/N.” 

Staring relentlessly into his eyes, filled with sincerity and concern, you took his hand off your face and placed a tender kiss inside it, brushing your lips over the scar there; the scar bonding you forever. “Okay,” you whispered. 

You pulled your legs up onto the couch and snuggled into his side. Bucky put his arm around you and rested his cheek on the top of your head. 

A silence settled in, filled only with your peaceful breathing — it didn't bother you or Bucky, since neither of you felt the need to break it. You thought it would be much more difficult; that you would need far more time to get used to him, especially after his last absence. But having a huge couch with plenty of space to occupy, you decided to deprive yourself of whatever space there was.

“Are you going to elaborate, in any way, on what you did to me earlier..?”

“Elaborate…” Bucky repeated. He exhaled, blowing some of the air out of his lungs, then rested his head on the back of the couch and stared at the ceiling for a moment. “I've wanted to do it since that night when I saw you in that little nightgown of yours.” He raised his brow. “And that's about it.” 

You sat up straight, your eyes on Bucky’s face. “That night?” you asked in disbelief. “As a punishment for what?”

A corner of his mouth lifted. “Did it really feel like a punishment to you?” 

Even if you were able to answer him without hesitation, you looked away to think about it. Or pretend to think about it. You bit your lip.

“Did it feel good..?” Bucky inquired, his tone gentle and careful. 

You nodded slowly. “Yeah. Very good,” you said, not sure if you should really admit it. “We can do it more often,” you suggested, and Bucky’s eyebrows rose instantly. Taken slightly aback, he peered at you with sudden liveliness, his eyes sparked with fascination that struck him like a speeding train. “What?” you laughed softly, but then understood something — you always sensed a gentle restraint in him, keeping him in check; the chains holding him down. Now, you were able to hear them break. Was it you who destroyed them? Your innocent permission?

Bucky smirked, shaking his head, letting you know he wasn’t going to be too harsh on you. But as harsh as you’d allow him to be. 

He leaned forward, putting his forearms on his knees, and reached for one of the papers so he could return to analyzing the documents. You clung to his back, placing your chin on his shoulder blade. He immediately located his free hand on your arm, wrapped around his torso. 

“Go back to bed,” he said, his eyes still focused on the statements. 

“Am I disturbing you?”

“No, of course not,” Bucky assured right away, “but aren’t you tired, sunshine?” He turned his head as far as he could to glance at you at least from the corner of his eye. Taking the opportunity, you stretched out further, to reach his face, and planted a few quick but tender pecks on his cheek, making him laugh softly.

a/n: feel free to share your thoughts, they are more than welcomed 🥰

taglist: @goldensunflowe-r @nefri-black @vickie5446 @learisa @sjsmith56 @aya-fay @hhiggs @wishingwell-2 @buckysgirl01 @emily-roberts @prettylittlepluviophile @leaaa008 @itvy5601 @melsunshine @pattiemac1 @marvel-fandom23 @rabbitrabbit12321 @xsecretsirenx @heyyitsreign @xhollycowx @samfreakingwinchester @thrnlvr @samjuarezzz @loustan90 @kandis-mom @abaker74 @gabshouse @casa-boiardi @globetrotter28 @fand0mskullfa1ry @iateall-yourcookies @swordofawriter @theroyalmanatee @midnightvitality @thebuckybarnesvault @milanaasblog @itsmytimetoodream @talesofadragon @r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e @bbiaa420 @funkybarnes @sebastians-love @walkingwithoutreason @hereticdance @abitofblues @purple-vegan @queenashen @oqueano @yourdryadwife @lethallyprotected @abbyyourlocalmilf @sapphirebarnes @matchat3a

[sulfies]

If I Lead (pt 4)

Part 3 here

Ezio wanted a warm bath, a good wine and a soft bed… then maybe a visit from a courtesan once he was rested.

His ass was hurting from the long horseback ride from Venice to Monterriggioni but he was glad to be back home. 

Things were not done with the thieves yet and Rosa still had a few more tricks she wanted to teach him, but he had to visit home every now and then to ease Claudia's worries and top up the funds the village needed.

He had found some more riches hidden around while looking for more of those discs that went into the sanctuary. So far he had two counting the one on him.

He rode his horse through the market street nodding and throwing small pleasantries to the people trying to gain his attention. It felt weird to come back sometimes and… be known by many after months of hiding in crowds, not drawing any attention. 

But he did miss being able to just walk openly and not worry if the guards were going to come after him.

He looked around the buildings as he passed them by. More people were coming into the town each day and Monterrigioni was finding his footing once more. From what Claudia has yelled about to him, Mario had messed up the finances of the village in a way that should not have been possible.

Thank god one of them took their father's banker genes…

He rolled his shoulders and came closer to the stairs leading to the villa. Mercenaries were doing their regular stuff. Some in the ring that stood in the middle and some were scattered around the clearing on the upper sides. 

He would check the barracks tomorrow, he had ordered it to be fixed before he left and he hoped they had actually listened to him or he was going to send their half of this month's wages into the repairs of the church.

He hopped down from his horse giving the reins to the stablehand nearby who was waiting for him.

“Welcome back, Ser Ezio, hope the road treated you well.”

He hummed in response, the road was always the same. He had to deal with some bandits but they were far enough from Monteriggioni. Still, maybe he would talk to the mercenaries later about them expanding their patrol zones. The last thing they needed was for the traders to get discouraged from coming in due to the roads.

He started climbing the stairs, the nearby soldiers said their welcome as he passed by and he waved his hand to them out of courtesy and not much else.

Bed, wine and bed… then he would act like a civilized human to the people.

He walked in through the doors of his home as Claudia was making his way down the stairs.

“It's good to see you back Ezio”

“Claudia” Ezio walked to his sister with open arms.

Claudia made a face as she was drawn into his arms “Can't you wait till you wash this disgusting smell out of you first.” yet put up no real fight to get out of the embrace.

Ezio laughed and let her go. “Shame that you would insult your dear brother, you wound me with your harsh words, Claudia.”

“Mhm, I'll take pity once you smell like a human being again. Go now, the maids have already prepared a bath for you, we will catch up after, with dinner.”

Ezio smiled and climbed the stairs with a spring in his step. He had missed home and its luxuries.

Opening the door to his room he sighed blissfully once his eyes landed on the tub. He couldn't get the armour off him faster.

Once his limbs hit the warm water his muscles melted their aches like butter. Looking at the stool nearby he saw a goblet filled with wine sitting pretty for him and his smile widened. 

“It's the simple things really…”

He grabbed his cup and just sat in the tub as he sipped it, savouring every drop. 

He spent longer than he usually did, the water was almost lukewarm when he decided to start washing himself fully.

What he wouldn't give for a massage right this very moment… 

By the time he got out of the tub, the water was on its way to become cold. He dried himself off and put on his fresh clothes. 

Also laid out on his bed for ease; he could kiss the maids.

He put on his bracers and made his way down to his sister’s office, a small chest filled with their new funds by his side.

“Do I have the permission to enter the premises, my lady?” he mocked with two taps on the doorframe, drawing Claudia's attention from the papers on her desk.

“Since I didn't smell you coming in… yes, you do.”

Ezio walked to the desk dropping the chest on it slowly, Claudia's eyes sparkled as she got up to open it up. 

Eyeing the coins inside she smiled back at him.

“Good work, brother! Do you know how much is inside?”

Ezio shook his head “No, that's your job” and received a pout for his answer. 

“One day your face is going to get stuck like that”

“And I'll blame you for it ’till you die.”

He drew her in for another hug, a longer one and this time Claudia was happy to return it fully.

“How is Madre…” He felt Claudia's shoulders rise in a sigh. “Same as always, but she eats and drinks. Some days I can get her to walk around the garden, which is something, but still not a word has fallen from her lips.”

Ezip nodded and planted a small kiss into his sister's hair as he let her go. “I'll go check up on her after dinner, got some more feathers for her.”

“That would be nice, somedays I find her in front of the box gazing… at least it is a reaction of some kind”

“Indeed.”

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

The dinner passed with laughter and the latest gossip from both sides, what Ezio did, how the town fared while he was gone…

“The repairs on the barracks are almost complete”

“That's good, I was thinking about getting the church fixed next.”

Claudia smiled. “Venice has changed you huh…” Ezio laughed. “It's not that. Truthfully, I could not care less about it, but since the brothel and the barracks, I fear if I don't actually fix it soon people are going to get annoyed.”

“Glad to see you use your head for once.” Ezio rolled his eyes at the comment. “But yes that would put some people at ease, maybe draw some more people in. The shops have been faring well, but there are still many empty ones.”

“The market looked pretty full to me…”

“That's because everyone knew you were on your way, some of our merchants have been sending their better wares away to bigger cities via traders.”

Ezio raised an eyebrow “You want me to do a little bit of inspection don't you…”

“Yes, go around and show yourself so they have a reason to not hide them”

She took a bite from her meal. “And maybe stay longer than a week this time hm? I know you have much to do back in Venice, but as a young woman I can only throw my weight around so much in this place Ezio”

Ezio scoffed, “You basically run this town better than I would, all the bookings are done by you.” 

“I do run it better than you, I'm not saying I don't. I am saying that annoying people like the mercenaries and the merchants respond better to an authority they fear…Which would be, you.”

“So you want me on guard dog duty.” 

“Yes, I'm sure Venice can handle a couple of weeks without their local vigilante.”

“Whatever you say, my liege.”

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

After dinner, Ezio visited his mother's chambers. 

As Claudia had said she didn't look any better… but she didn't look any worse, either.

He walked in with soft steps and his shoulders down. She felt like a scared feral animal some days, if he moved quickly she might try to fly in fright.

She was sitting by her bedside chair facing the balcony watching the sky, hands still in a prayer.

“Madre, I'm back” He didn't really wait for a reply, used to the silence by now but it still hurt his heart.

He came close to her side and kneeled by her, placing his hand on top of hers.

“I'm not done yet in Venice… don't know when I will be but thought it was time I came back for a visit. Claudia thinks I should stay for a while.” 

Smiling up at her sadly he continued “I think she is tricking me into taking a break”

He stood by her side for a while embracing the silence. 

“I brought you some more feathers, Claudia let me know that sometimes you look at the box. Glad to know you enjoy them.” 

He leaned down and kissed her hands, his thumb rubbed over the back of them. 

“I'll bring even more the next time, hm?”

He got up and walked over to the box. Eyes still stuck on her form he placed the white feathers in it and locked the box after.

“I'll come again tomorrow, Madre…”

He walked out of the room with the same silent steps. 

It hurt a lot.

Each time he went to see her he had a small hope that it would be different but he left with grief filling his heart each time.

It was weird, could you still feel grief over someone who was still alive? 

If not, he didn't know what else to name the hurt he felt beneath his lungs.

He made his way to his room again, the sun had just started setting down and the weight of the road was pulling him to bed.

He walked into his room and faceplanted onto the sheets, throwing his boots to the side and unlacing his hose halfway. Too lazy to change his clothes, he was clean anyway.

Closing his eyes he welcomed the wave of sleep that washed over him….

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

When he woke up the next day the sun was up quite high, he overslept. The road had taken out of him more than he had anticipated.

Maybe Claudia was right, some downtime would do him good.

He cleaned himself up with a fresh set of clothes, putting only bracers on from his daily uniform. He would get the maids to wash that today as well, tho he knew his enjoyment of his clean capes would only last half a week.

Making his way downstairs he stretched his arms above his head and yawned. He could probably sleep a bit more if he stayed in the bed but Claudia would give him a face about it.

Stopping by her door again he knocked twice on the frame. “Buongiorno!”

Claudia looked up to him, her desk had some coins lying around it and the chest he brought yesterday was open on her side. 

“It's almost mid-day… but good morning to you too”

Ezio smiled fondly “So, did I bring enough back or do I need to make another trip…”

“I haven't been able to go through all of it but… Yes, we will be cushioned for a while.”

She looked back at her pages to check the numbers.

“There will be a lot of leftovers even after the repairs which is a nice safety net.”

“Good to hear.” Ezio watched his sister focus back on her work again and took it as a cue for him to get going.

“I am going to go down and see how the barracks are coming along. Then maybe visit the blacksmith. Lost some daggers here and there that I want to replace.”

Claudia just hummed in response and waved her quill without lifting his eyes away from her desk.

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

Once out of the Villa, Ezio gazed down at the town. Feeling the sun hit his face was a rare luxury he got to enjoy only here. 

At the top of the stairs, he just watched the people go about their day for a bit. Things were coming along, he noticed yesterday but now with his full attention, he realized Claudia had repaired some more buildings outside of the main street. Some houses were still getting work done with workers outside. 

He noticed some more ropes going in between the buildings as well. He chuckled, that was nice of her to do…

He made his way down into the street, nodding at the pleasantries people threw his way, stopping now and then to hear people's troubles. 

They were mostly crying about leaking roofs and general upkeep troubles.

He took the street that led to the barracks.

The renovation was still going on but from what he could see they were almost done with maybe a month or so of work left to do.

He walked into the building, most of the chatter stopped for a beat and then continued but he could feel the side glances coming his way.

He paid no mind and went further in, towards the back room. He could hear Mario’s voice boom even through the closed doors.

So that's where his uncle was… with each step the mumblings of Mario’s voice got more clear.

“...I said I would try to talk about a raise but don't push my hand Marsillio. You and I both know I take the defence of this place very se-”

“What's this talk about a raise?”

Mario turned around to face Ezio standing by the open door.

“Ezio! How swell is it to see you” His frown chanced the moment his eyes landed on his nephew.

Approaching him, Mario clasped his forearm in a greeting and patted his back strongly. A big smile was plastered on his face. “I missed you coming back yesterday.”

“Don't worry about it Zio, I went to bed pretty early.” He nodded back in sympathy then looked back at the other person. “Now, what were you guys just talking about?” He tried to keep his tone even.

“Nothing for you to worry about yet, Nipote.” Ezio raised an eyebrow and kept looking at the other mercenary who was doing his best to not avert his eyes. 

“We…were just talking to Ser Mario about additional budgeting for the upkeep of our weapons.”

Ah… still after their old payout before he got his hands on the ledger and let his sister make some cuts. 

“Why? Don't your men know how to polish their own swords?”

Marsillio smiled sheepishly “They do but you can only polish a dull sword so many times before It will break, sir.”

“Well, are any of them broken?”

“No… not yet but would you rather them break in the heat of the battle and leave our men defenseless?”

Ezio put a hand on his hip. “If Monteriggioni ever has to go into battle, I assure you no funds will be spared for its aid.”

Before the other could get a word in he continued. “I have already factored in the upkeep of your armoury into the budget you were dealt for this year. You will make do with what you are given till I see a reason to allocate more with my own eyes.”

Marsilio looked like he was trying very hard to keep his face straight, Ezio found it quite funny. Answering to a younger man, when you used to be able to get what you wanted with ease would put a chip on any man's shoulder.

He crossed his arms with a smug look he couldn't hide “Well, now that we all have agreed on the budget problem… I had actually come here for a different reason.”

Mario looked at him with slight worry, Ezio shot him a smile to calm his nerves “Nothing pressing or such but I’d like the outside patrols to expand their search area.”

“We already cover plenty of grounds, Ser Ezio. My men have yet to find even tracks of passing bandits.” Marsillio retaliated.

“Then they won't mind having to go a bit further on their search to keep the good people of our town safe, hm?” 

He stared at him for a while, seeing the other man's conviction crumble by the second, he clearly wanted to argue against it.

“As.. as you wish sir.”

Really, this was starting to bore him.

Paying these guys for them to complain like young maidens who didn't get enough pocket money for their dresses… but Monteriggioni needed its defences and this was the best they got thanks to Mario, bless his heart.

“That's good to hear, I'm sure the citizens of Monteriggioni will be thankful for your services.” He turned his attention to Mario “It is lovely to see you again Uncle Mario, I’ll try to visit your office later today.”

Mario gave him his signature grin and clasped his shoulder, shaking him with it. “Yes of course! I wanted to hear about your latest doings anyway.”

Ezio gave a nod and left the room. Feeling the pointed stares of others behind his back as he crossed the main room. He knew the mercenaries were not too happy to see him back. 

No one would be happy to see their boss back.

He stepped outside of the building, letting himself breathe a bit. He rolled his shoulders to ease his tension… this was such a chore but Claudia was right, these types of men only responded to an authority they feared.

“Once again hiding to the side Domenico? You have been at these swords for three days now…”

A man talked out of the corner of his eye. He was leaning over against the railing that surraunded the Stable. The mention of swords caught his attention.

“Come on, take a break and join me for at least a cup.”

Another man, older than the one who just talked, was inside the open area of the stable with a pile of swords next to him. Sharpening the one in his hand on the whetstone on his lap.

“I told you, I don't like drinking during the day…” “Then come play dice!”

The man sighed. “Don't sigh at me, I am your senior and I order you to come inside. I have yet to see you rest after today's rounds.”

“Angelo, I am resting. See, this is me sitting… which means I am resting”

The older man raised his head to give a look of disappointment to Angelo when his eyes met with Ezio for a second then quickly went back to the other man.

“Yea sure, and laying with your wife is called falling asleep” 

“Angelo!”

The man raised his arms in a sheepish defence “I'm joking, I'm joking...” With an impatient huff, he pointed his fingers at Domenico. “Don’t look at me like that, I'll leave you to your rest, but you are ordered to come to the tavern with us tonight. No excuses!”

Ezio chuckled to himself quietly and started walking towards the market, leaving the two men to their bickering. Unlike what Marsilio said, the swords looked fine after all.

[ineffably-human]

We're going to scream about Nandermo all week, but right now I need to talk about Baron Afanas. Because the Baron's arc, so to speak, always felt like a big part of the series DNA for me - and oh fuck did this episode deliver on why.

I think we can agree: in the show, vampire society is fucked up, right?

Vampires on their own have plenty to deal with that can make them crazy. They have to live by killing. They lose everyone from their old lives. They have to find new reasons to keep going on, forever, so shit can get decadent really fast.

But holy shit, what that's turned into in vampire society? Where you actively put cruelty over mercy, and violence over solving your problems? Death cults and scam artists roam free, but if someone has depression the best thing to do is ignore them. Someone can get their mind wiped or be locked up for centuries, and that's just what you do to your species.

--

So: the Baron's arrival is the first conflict of the whole show. The joke is about an ancient powerful creature of pants-shitting terror, vs three lesser vampires who just want to live their lives and not get murdered for being too lazy to conquer humanity. There's a lot of talk about how to please him: do you keep to the old ways, or pick up some new traditions? Decorate with flayed skin, or with glitter? And the Baron says: who cares, you're all soft and useless. All that matters is getting more control over this world, until people are cattle and we have no reason to hide anymore.

But later he confesses: that shit stopped mattering ages ago. He's not even real nobility, he's literally impotent, and he talks about doing horrible things because he doesn't know what else to say. He's angry and half-crazy from boredom. And admitting that, owning those feelings, means suddenly he has three new friends and a whole new world of things to enjoy.

There's the Baron the rest of the vampire world knows, but for one night we see the ancient, unknowable terror was just a guy. Maybe he's always been just some guy.

That fun puts him in a vulnerable position, and he's killed by the most unwitting vampire slayer in fiction. But Baron Afanas is changed. He sucks dirt for a year and still comes out of it with a new lightness and joy to him. He saves the Sire, another ancient terrifying monster everyone was eager to kill or send away. They adopt the hellhound. They get cozy and give advice. They make popsicle stick houses and go on walks. They live.

And that seemed like the end of the story until last night - when the Baron suddenly felt like the butt of a joke everyone knew but him. Spurred on by someone else who feels lonely and ignored, the Baron felt vulnerable. And he snapped back to how he lived for centuries.

'What the hell are you all doing, enjoying yourselves? We're supposed to be unhappy. We're supposed to live centuries of unhappiness, bringing pain to everyone in our path, and we're definitely not supposed to cheer up our friend who's sad.'

--

Nobody liked the Baron before Guillermo killed him, not even other powerful vampires we meet; they saw the Baron as a crazy far beyond their own crazy. But this is also how vampire society values you. It's how they measure Nandor's worth when they think he's dead, too: how old and powerful you are, how much you've been able to conquer and kill.

Vampire pods are both cliquish and aren't expected to last in the first place. If someone dies, you literally paint them out of your lives and forget. Everything we see discourages feelings, sincerity, or even basic companionship. The only way to earn respect is to be cruel. The more cruel you are, the more powerful you are. The more powerful you are, the more feared you are - the lonelier you are, the crazier you are. It's practically designed to create the Baron, or worse.

But new vampires don't behave that way. And the vampires we follow in the show don't behave that way - because they have each other, because they've been encouraged to have each other, often by Guillermo. (Holy shit, Nadja saying maybe she'd be fine dying, and Nandor immediately asking if she's okay? Nothing changes in this house, except everything does. They're not going to almost lose one of their own ever again.)

The vampires in the heart of vampire culture never seem happy to be like this. It doesn't have to be like this.

--

The Baron doesn't become a tyrannical monster for long. Because he never actually was one - and because he spends two evenings and a fireball to the face, watching Nandor and Nadja fight for Guillermo. Watching them plead and cling and defy, seeing Guillermo's earnest feelings in spite of his bloodline and the mistakes he's made. Seeing Nandor's perfect trust, and then his grief, the way he insists that Guillermo was never 'just' anything. The Baron can't find real fulfillment in hurting someone (because that ship sailed ages ago). He can't deride them for caring, because he's cared for a long time now.

And when the Baron admits that's who he is, when he says it out loud, he only gains more in his life. He finds new depth in the happiness he'd felt for a while now, because he's admitted and allowed himself to be happy. And now he has the children he's always wanted. Living together, the Baron and the Sire are still ancient and powerful - and they're also family, finding real joy together in a world that was ready to dispose of them.

"I suppose with the right company, it can be beautiful, this eternal existence."

--

There's an inherent selfishness to being a vampire, taking from someone else in order to live. But there doesn't have to be inherent cruelty, or lack of love.

They're all ready to admit they care. The Staten vampires have all cared for Guillermo or each other in their own ways this season. And Guillermo doesn't lack for flaws, but loving his monster family has never been one of them. (When he and Nandor work their shit out, they're gonna be insufferable.)

Now they just have to let the Guide in. Because she's absolutely starved for love, and vampires get pretty fucked up when they're on their own.

[writingquestionsanswered]

Do you have any advice for writing with adhd? I can craft these elaborate storyline in my head, but the minute I try to write any of them down I get bored. (Or is that just regular writer block?) It's really discouraging, because I feel like my mind is moving faster then my head, and any time I try to bring any of my ideas to life it just disipates.

Writing with ADHD: 5 Game Changers for Me

Here are some things that have been game changers for me as a writer with ADHD: [Edit: everyone's ADHD is different. This is just what works for me. It may not work for you...]

Planning: It's different for everyone with ADHD, but for me it's essential to spend time planning my story before I start writing. I like to flesh out as much as possible concerning plot, timeline, setting, world, characters and arcs, subplots, and themes.

Summary, Outline, and Scene List: Three items that are critical for me to have in hand before I sit down to write are a beginning to end summary of the story detailing all plot events as far as I know, an outline loosely based on the story structure template/s that feel right for the story (for example, I may use elements of Save the Cat! and some elements of of the Six-Stage Plot Structure), which helps me navigate my plot and hit the relevant plot points. And finally, I need a detailed scene list/timeline combo which lists chapter, scene, date/time, POV character, location, and a one to two sentence summary of what happens in the scene, including the character's goal in the scene, the scene's conflict, and the scene's resolution or how it carries into a later scene.

Gamifying: When I'm struggling with a particular time period or project, it can help me to gamify things. You can do this using a game board strategy, the Yahtzee Method, making a list of bench marks that serve as "levels," race against yourself by trying to bet the previous day's goal, etc. The key to gamifying is to set reasonable benchmarks and give yourself periodic rewards. Rewards can be anything from buying yourself a boba, watching a favorite TV show episode, an hour of playing your favorite game, or going to a movie. Some people like to go to the dollar store and buy a lot of small fun things and use those as rewards. Whatever works for you! Sometimes, turning it into a game with tangible progress and rewards can keep you motivated.

Setting Up a Routine: Although I have my general daily routine, I am without a doubt more productive when I can stick to a more specific routine that includes writing time. For me that works out to writing early in the day before other distractions start ramping up. When I put on my music, sit down with some coffee and a snack, and pull up my manuscript, my brain knows it's time to get to work. That doesn't always mean the work happens, but it's much more likely I'll get something done.

Minimizing Distractions: Anything that can be a distraction when I write is problematic. For that reason, I only listen to music without words and advertising. I turn off my phone or leave it in the other room. If possible, I try to use placeholders for things I need to look up. If I absolutely have to look something up and I get distracted by headlines, interesting articles or videos, or other things, I bookmark them in a special folder and immediately close the window. That way, I know I can go back to them later (I almost never do...) And, for me, as much as I love Scrivener and the ability to organize by chapter, have quick access to character profiles and photos, toggle between scene cards and my story... it's just too distracting for me. I'll sit down to write a chapter, then decide I need to re-do my scene cards, or cast characters, or do mood boards for every location in my story.

For that reason, writing in Word works best [for me] It's simple and there's nothing to distract me. Any story references I might need while writing, such as character profiles and photos, mood boards and aesthetics, setting inspiration photos, etc. are all organized in a special folder, categorized into sub-folders, so I can go straight to the required reference.

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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[starwell-tarot]

PAC: What part of you requires some introspection this summer? ⛱️

Pick a pile reading: What aspect of yourself or your life needs some thinking over? What questions should you be asking yourself this summer to get to know yourself better?

Pile 1-3, left to right

Pick the picture you feel most drawn to. If you feel drawn to more than one of them, you can read the interpretation to multiple piles.

Disclaimer: All my readings contain themes of mental and emotional struggles and pains as they strive to comfort those. I don't intend on rubbing you the wrong way and I'm doing this with the hope I can help people feel better, but if it doesn't work I might just not be the right person to comfort you.

Disclaimer: I'm not a mental health professional in any way. Although my tarot readings focus on giving emotional and mental reassurance, I can only give you as much as a friend could give you - encouraging words, friendly advice, a shoulder to cry on or a metaphorical hug. Please take in the information responsibly, and if your mental health is greatly affecting your day to day functions, please consider looking for a professional if possible. I'm afraid I can't be more than a tarot-enthusiastic friend.

Take what resonates and leave what doesn't. Take care of yourselves and remember hope is your best friend. 🖤

Pile 1 - VIII of Pentacles, Four of Wands, Knight of Swords, Balsamic Moon

Who do I dream of becoming?

The key elements in your reading are your dreams and hard work.

It seems like you have a very clear idea of how your ideal life would look like, and it's beautiful. So beautiful in fact, that the cards depict a twirling dance, gracious and romantic. There is a version of you that you have fallen in love with, but I fear you think it's unreachable. You might have put some work into it already, into reaching your goals, and yet you still feel far away from what you want to achieve. But do not rush.

No big dream in life is easily accessible to grab. They require patience and perseverance, and a lot of obstacles must be overcome before you can finally feel you've gotten everything you ever wanted. The key here is, you must avoid self-sabotage. Perhaps you are insecure, or you lack self-belief, or you get easily discouraged. Know that failure is only the path to success, so look into the lesson you can learn from your mistakes, instead of letting them consume you. Look ahead to the future fully, and break down the demons in your head into tiny little digestible pieces. Identify all of your obstacles, the things (or people) that might stand in-between you and the version of you you dream of. Think of ways you can solve these obstacles, one by one, slowly and surely. Go into the smallest of details when you question what is stopping you, where exactly you stand right now, and everything you want to achieve. Plan and be meticulous.

The balsamic moon gives the advice that, in order to become this dream version of yourself, you must first let go of all the limitations you've put onto yourself, taken from the past you've lived. Your past circumstances should not define you anymore, and you must allow yourself to change and live as though you are truly reborn into the person you want to be. 💚

Pile 2 - The Lovers R, Knight of Wands, Balsamic Moon

Who am I becoming?

The key elements in your reading are self-image and transformations.

It seems that for a very long time, you thought you knew exactly who you were and what you needed. You didn't feel much need to change the way you were doing things, and you were wearing your own personal colors permanently, and they were painting a self image of you. And lately, there's new colors on the canvas. And you don't know what to do with them. It is almost like discovering there's a whole another person living in your body, a strange experience of newly acquired self-knowledge. This can be uncomfortable, but know we as people are always expanding. Whether you are changing for good or for bad (this is also subjective) it is something you must embrace and address. If you fear you are turning into an unknown, malefic force, figure out what is making you act this way, and face the demon in the mirror. There's darkness in all of us, and we're allowed to be imperfect, but we must not let it consume us. Tell the darkness you see it, you acknowledge it and you'll work hard to heal it so that it doesn't burst out again. If you feel you're turning into something unfamiliar and strange, but not exactly bad, you must address what it brings into your life. Perhaps it's a change you needed. Perhaps you're on your path to growth, and that's always confusing.

All in all, do not resist strangeness and changes in yourself - instead, identify these changes, welcome them in, and let them talk to you. Let them tell you what they need from you, what presents they bring, or what old beliefs they want to replace. The balsamic moon gives the advice that you should be open to change, for that's what defines the future moment. The past cannot change, it is merely a limitation. Do not limit yourself, and instead let the future gently sway you. 💛

Pile 3 - Ace of Cups, Knight of Wands, New Moon

Why am I afraid of saying yes?

The key elements of your reading are self-love and opportunities.

I feel like you are in a very strange situation of almost… procrastinating self-love. You know you deserve more, but you cannot bring yourself to accept it. But deep inside, you know.

Deep inside you know you bring beautiful things into the world. Deep inside you know your quirks are not negative as you see them. Deep inside I think you know you deserve all the love in the world. You simply must accept it, so that you can finally let yourself receive all the beautiful things you've been denying yourself of having. I fear what is keeping you stuck is heavy and tangled, binding you to this version of yourself that is afraid to ask for more. These binds must be untangled. Try to think why you are denying all the blessings - what makes you believe all of these negative things about yourself? Once you find the cause, ask yourself if that situation is, in fact, still relevant to the person you are today. Once you let go of your old belief systems, you can finally be free. And if the fear of change is strong, or you cannot let go of your beliefs, ask yourself: what is the worst thing that could happen if I love myself a bit today? Who's stopping me from doing that?

The new moon gives the advice that the hardest part of everything is always the start. However, once you begin to allow a little kindness, a little love to grace you, things will slowly become less and less uncomfortable. Baby steps can take you a long way. It is time you allow your life to become beautiful. 💙

I hope this reading was useful to you!

Please consider leaving some feedback so I know if my readings resonate well. 🖤

While introspection is hugely important for self development, do not forget having fun is just as important for the mental health! So go have fun this summer 😉

If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a Ko-Fi.

©starwell-tarot do not copy, translate or repost.

[wherethemoonguides]

over the course of the shipping polls, me and a lot of other people have noticed some major issues in the fandom that i honestly believe need to be addressed.

the shipping in the les mis fandom can be incredibly problematic.

what do i mean by this? simple, people are too defensive over their favs or being honest, ship stuff that is straight up illegal (yes it's fiction, but would you really apply some of these ships to real life? No. No you wouldn't). i believe this is a topic that needs to be talked about, hence this post.

to start, i've noticed that especially a lot of the fanbase can get SO incredibly rude about other people's ships winning or putting more effort into winning which? is incredibly unfair and an insane way to behave. i fully understand being disappointed in your fav not making it but the moment it delves onto making subtle hate posts about specific people that’s when you’re taking it too far.

another issue is the fact that a lot of the fandom normalise proshipping. someone needed to say it!

since i've been in the fandom i have seen an unbelievable amount of minor x adult content, incest and a lot of other things. before you say "oh, every fandom has people like that", they do BUT it is too normalised in this fandom? i have NEVER seen anyone talk out about how weird it is for people to be shipping the Thenardier kids (who are all aged under 17) for example, with ANY adult characters (Javert, Montparnasse, the students, members of the Patron-Minette and most of the time this is smut where people do NOT age these characters up! which, even needing to age a character up to ship them is such an insane thing (how do you see a child character and say "they need to be aged up so i can ship them with this adult") because that isn't normal behaviour!!!!

another major issue is that a lot of these characters are reduced down to ships, for example, i could perhaps mention javert and somehow it'll link to valvert and then his character is immediately reduced down to liking valjean or vice versa. same with enjolras and grantaire, ive noticed that grantaire can't be mentioned in a conversation on his own without enjolras being related even though he can be a great character without looking solely at enjoltaire.

i really, really love this fandom but it is so discouraging to interact with it sometimes because of the content i see and how NO ONE else talks about it. maybe it's because i'm younger than most of the fandom and i have a different view on it (im a minor) and for me and others, seeing adults ship children with characters MUCH older than them is so uncomfortable to see!

and yes, tag blocking is a system on tumblr which i use before anyone suggests it, but if you use this feature you'd know it doesn't always work and a lot of these posts/ blogs i've blocked can still appear through other people's reblogs.

i will add, i am NOT saying every single shipper is like this because not everyone is! what i am saying is its a pattern myself and others have started to notice more and more and its honestly really concerning to me. i know that les mis has a lot of different ways people interpret characters, ships, etc, but i really do believe there’s a point where certain things should not be encouraged and it becomes too much and hurtful.

that’s enough for now, i honestly have a lot of thoughts about this topic but… thanks for reading this if anyone did, i'd love to hear others opinions on this because i really do believe this is a subject that NEEDS to be talked about

[foundress0fnothing]

For @beesays. I’m sorry this update took so long 💕

So, so, so many thanks to @violetasteracademic for helping work out the plot issues that have been stymieing me for months and for betaing this chapter (aka making me slow down and actually do some worldbuilding). ILY ♥️

Read on ao3 or under the cut!

October, 12 years ago

“You flatter me, darling.”

Rhys studied Feyre’s work as he leaned against the wooden frame that held their easels—a habit she hadn’t managed to discourage no matter how many times she had shoved it out from under him. He always righted himself with a frustratingly feline grace and a smirk before settling down to pester her for the day.

Feyre held up her pink oil pastel stick threateningly, and as she watched Rhys take a healthy step back out of fear that she might smear it on his black sweater (information she gleefully filed away for the next time leaned on their stand), the bell rang to signal the end of the school day.

She sighed and dropped the stick back into her supply case, then grabbed a cloth to wipe her hands off. “Stop peeking.” Even so, she tilted her head to look at the portrait of Rhys she’d been working on. It bore the swirls of color punctuated by harsh black lines that were slowly solidifying into a style unique to her, but it was still a good likeness of him. There was something in the set of the jaw, in the spark of the eyes, that was quintessentially Rhys—his joking mockery, his quiet pride. She was pleased with him—with it. 

Feyre turned to gather the rest of her things, but Rhys had already bundled them into her bag and hoisted it up on his shoulder. She scowled up at him, and he raised an eyebrow. “Something wrong, darling?”

“I can carry my own bag.” She stood up and held out her hand expectantly.

Rhys ignored it and turned to walk out the door, calling out over his shoulder,“But why would you?”

“Asshole,” Feyre grumbled to herself before quickening her pace to try and catch up with him. He was halfway down the hall by the time she managed to reach him. She yanked on her bag, and Rhys let her pull it off of him with an exaggerated sigh. 

“Don’t say I never did anything nice for you.”

“Yes, because stealing my bag is the definition of ‘nice.’”

“It looked heavy.”

“Rhysand—”

“Darling, not my full name…”

“Such a drama queen.”

“You like it.”

Feyre only hummed, but the grin Rhys flashed her told her that he knew he was right.

As they reached the front doors and started walking toward the parking lot along with all the other students streaming toward cars and buses, Rhys grabbed her hand and started steering her toward where his car was parked. “Do you have to go home right away?”

Feyre thought of what was waiting for her at home—a sullen father, an empty fridge, fighting with her sisters over a hot shower. She had already worked a shift at the cafe that morning, waking up at 3:30 to squeeze in a few hours before the school day started, and Alis, the owner, was adamant that Feyre only worked one shift a day. So whatever Rhys was planning, it had to be better than what her evening would otherwise hold. “No—why?”

“I have someone I want you to meet. I think you’ll like each other.”

“Who? One of your soccer bros?” Feyre looked up at him as he slowed, realizing that they had arrived at his car. It was far nicer than she thought a high schooler needed—some flashy Mercedes-Benz —and she tried not to let herself balk at the casual display of wealth.

If he noticed her discomfort, Rhys didn’t comment on it. “Not quite. Although I’m happy to introduce you to Cassian if you’re looking for the typical asshole athlete experience.”

“Isn’t that what I’m getting from being here with you?” Feyre teased.

Some emotion flashed across his face, but it was gone before she had a chance to guess at what it might have been. For all that they had grown close in art class—being forced to study each others’ faces for weeks had a way of bringing people together, she supposed—so much about Rhys was still a mystery. 

“I suppose you’ll have to wait and see, darling.” He had come around to the passenger side of the car as if to open the door for her, and waited with an expectant expression.

Feyre studied him. She liked what she saw in him, despite the super star athlete persona he projected to everyone else. And she wondered if she’d like him even more if he let her in enough to unravel the parts of him that were still mysterious. She hoped so, anyway.

So she arched an eyebrow. “Well? Are you going to get the door for me like a gentleman?”

“I’m not a gentleman, Feyre,” he purred as he pulled the door open and waited for her to slide in. “I’m only here to get a better view of the prettiest girl in school as she slides into my car.” Rhys looked her up and down and winked before closing the door behind her.

She rolled her eyes and flipped him off through the window. “Prick.” 

“I heard that,” he said, sliding into the driver’s seat. 

“I meant it.”

“I hope so.”

They bickered back and forth on the short drive from the school to the town center until Rhys pulled up in front of the ice cream shop.

Feyre frowned at him. “Ice cream? In October? Shouldn’t they be closed for the season by now?”

Rhys scoffed as he climbed out of the car. “Ice cream is the correct choice for any weather.”

“Rhys, that is absolutely not true.”

“And,” he said, as he held open the door for her, “I wasn’t going to bring you to Alis’. As lovely as it is, I didn’t want to ask you to spend more time today at your job.”

Before she could ask Rhys how he knew where she worked, a voice belonging to someone she had never met before called out her name. “Feyre Archeron. I’ve been begging for him to introduce us for weeks.”

“Yes, thank you, Mor.” Rhys looked slightly mortified. “Feyre, may I introduce you to the perpetual pain in my ass, my cousin, Morrigan Datiles?”

“Hi, Mor?” Mor repeated Feyre’s greeting, an incredulous tone coloring her voice. “It’s been a decade since I last saw you and all you have to say is ‘Hi, Mor’?”

“Yes?” Feyre grimaced, looking up to meet Mor’s eyes in the mirror. 

“I had heard…” Mor trailed off, her eyes flicking away from Feyre’s for a moment. But then she took a breath, and started in again. “I had heard that things with Tamlin didn’t end up working out.”

“Nope.” Feyre popped the p at the end of the word and broke Mor’s gaze, grabbing the mascara tube that lay on the bathroom counter and returning her focus to her reflection in the mirror. She hoped that Mor would pick up on her less-than-subtle hint that the events of the last year were not something she was interested in discussing right here, right now. Or ever, she thought privately.

But it didn’t matter whether Feyre was interested in discussing things or not; Mor had never been one to leave things alone.

“I thought you couldn’t wait to leave home. That was your one big dream. You were going to move out to New York and open your gallery and—”

“Well, dreams change,” Feyre interrupted, not wanting to hear a litany of her decade of failure. And one that wouldn’t even include the worst of it all—the pieces of herself that she had given up, one by one, until she was nothing more than Tamlin’s fiancée who could offer an interesting art history tidbit here or there so he could impress his coworkers with his bohemian artist of a partner. 

And it wasn’t just herself she had lost, she thought, glancing up at Mor. The other woman was studying her with an expression of something close enough to pity that Feyre felt herself bristle and turn back to Mor. “My dream right now is to not look like shit, serve this party so Nesta doesn’t fire me, and then go home to sleep it off.”

“O-kay.” Mor raised her hands defensively as she drew out the word, the pitying look changing to something sharper, which didn’t feel much better to Feyre. With a devastatingly effortless hair flip, Mor turned to face the mirror, touching up her lipstick and washing her hands. 

Feyre let out a silent huff of air. For all that she had hoped to avoid interacting with her old friends today, she didn’t want this to be the way her first time seeing Mor in a decade went. They had been friends—good, close friends—once, and even though they weren’t anymore, it didn’t feel right to Feyre not to honor that closeness they used to have.

“I’m sorry. For snapping.” She bit her lip and tried to find the right words. “It’s been … shit. Obviously. And now I’m back, and Nesta let me join Valkyrie Events, and—” Feyre could feel herself rambling but couldn’t seem to stop now that she had finally started explaining herself to Mor, “—and I don’t normally have to serve the events but Dierdre is out, and so they need me, and it’s not how I wanted everyone to see me, but—”

“Everyone, huh?” Mor interrupted, a skeptical look on her face. Her expression was still more severe than usual, but something familiar, almost playful, flashed in her eyes. 

“Yes, everyone, Mor.”

“You had to know that people were going to see you now that you’re back in town. Velaris isn’t that big.”

“I’m aware.” Feyre scoffed, as if she hadn’t complained endlessly about that exact thing when they were back in high school. “I just didn’t want them to see me like this.” She gestured at the black Valkyrie Events server uniform she was wearing and then crossed her arms.

“You wanted a big, fuck-you-all, revenge-dress moment?” Mor wrinkled her nose.

“Maybe,” Feyre sniffed, ignoring the slight prickling of tears she felt in the corners of her eyes. She could sense Mor’s disapproval, but she didn’t care. Was it so wrong to want the first time that people recognized her as Feyre Archeron to be when she could look cool and unaffected and devastatingly hot, and not when she was sweaty and overtired and offering them some dry appetizer?

“Feyre,” Mor’s voice had turned gentle, having picked up on her defensiveness, “no one here is laughing at you. You don’t need a revenge dress moment. Not for any of us, anyway. We’re—” Mor cut herself off, but Feyre could feel the word “friends” hand in the air for a second. 

“Mor…” Feyre started, hoping to smooth over the awkwardness somehow, but Mor held up a hand.

She looked Feyre over for a few beats before nodding, clearly having decided something.

“I’ll help you.”

“What?” Whatever Feyre had been expecting her to say, it wasn’t that. 

“I’ll help you. I’ll get you through this party without having to deal with everyone,” and the emphasis she placed on the word made it clear that she knew exactly who Feyre meant. “As best I can, anyway. A reunion can be on your own terms—although, some things might be different. People have changed. Moved on.”

Mor paused, and then smiled, the first real smile Feyre had seen from her. “But not me, bitch.” The sudden change in tone caught Feyre off guard, and she snorted. “This is our reunion and I have not moved on, and so after we make it through this party, we’re going out and you’re paying for all the drinks I want.”

“As long as you don’t want more than two drinks, I think I can swing that.” Feyre smiled tentatively. 

“It’s a date,” Mor said. “Now please let me give you some lipstick. This clean girl look is tragically too high-school-Feyre to stop everyone from recognizing you.”

After a nod to signal her permission, Mor started brushing the color over Feyre’s lips, and for a beat, it felt like they were still back in high school—Feyre skipping sophomore lit and Mor using her free period to gossip and hang out without any of the boys around. 

But there were subtle differences too. Mor had clearly grown into herself—she had always been beautiful, but there was a subtle confidence that Feyre didn’t remember her friend having at eighteen. And there was so much about her that Feyre didn’t know anymore. They were friendly again, sure, and Feyre thought—hoped, really—that there was the potential for them to be close again too. But all of that would take time.

Time that Feyre resolved to make. Whatever else happened tonight, she and Mor wouldn’t be strangers any longer.

“God, you look hot.” Mor looked over her handiwork with pride, having dusted a few other products across Feyre’s hair and face while Feyre was lost in her thoughts. Feyre looked at herself in the mirror and couldn’t stop from sucking in a quiet breath. She did look hot—Mor’s makeup skills remained flawless—but the face staring back at Feyre reminded her too much of the woman she’d been with Tamlin, someone made-up, polished, quietly perfect, and entirely forgettable. She would take looking like her messy high school self any day over the pretty wallflower she had become to fit into Tamlin’s life.

But that wasn’t the point of tonight. Tonight was about not looking like herself. What better way to do that than looking like the person she had pretended to be for a decade?

“Okay, last thing.” Mor stepped out of her heels—black and staggeringly high with red bottoms—and nudged them over to Feyre. “Size 8, right?” 

“Mor, I’m not wearing your heels,” Feyre balked. “I’ll be fine in my vans. You can’t be barefoot.”

Mor just looked at her as if she was insane. “I have a backup pair in my car. Who do you think I am?”

Feyre rolled her eyes and stepped into the shoes, hating the pressure and strain she immediately felt in her calves and back. “I’m a waitress tonight, Mor. I don’t think heels are practical,” she all but whined.

“Tough. They’re penance for leaving me with just the boys. I had to make new friends, Feyre. It was so much work.” She paused, and her expression turned more serious. “You should meet them, Fey. After all of this tonight. I think you’d like them.”

“I…” Feyre didn’t know how to respond. Mor wasn’t wrong, she probably would like them. But making friends, putting down more roots—it was a sign that she’d be stuck in Velaris, just like she always worried. And while she didn’t mind it as much as she once might have, the thought of making a life here was a little galling.

As if reading her mind, Mor added, gently, “You need to start building a life again.”

“I know. I will. I am.” Feyre sighed. “I just need to get through this party first.”

A few hours later, Feyre stood by the door to the rooftop with a tray balanced in her hand. 

She had begged Nesta to let her sit out the first few hours of the party while the sun was sinking in the background, arguing (not incorrectly) that she should practice loading and holding trays first because she had never waitressed before.

Nesta had agreed, referencing some bowl Feyre had dropped and broken when they were kids and then subsequently ignoring the middle finger Feyre had thrown her way. She only looked Feyre up and down before wrinkling her nose and walking back toward the office. “Don’t trip over your stripper heels and ruin my party.”

“It’s not your party,” Feyre had called out after her.

“It’s my company.” The door snicked shut after that, effectively giving Nesta the last word.

Feyre had stuck her tongue out at the door, never feeling more like a younger sibling than she did in that moment, and made her way, feet aching already, to the kitchens.

But now that night had fallen, Feyre knew she couldn’t put off the inevitable much longer. Tray of mini sliders in hand, she stepped out on the rooftop and surveyed the space. 

And smiled.

Because the party was perfect. Everything she had envisioned, all the hard work she had put into making that vision come alive—it was all there in the glowing lights, the joyful guests, the miraculously still upright flower arch. It wasn’t quite the same as the paintings she used to create, but it was the first thing she had made in a long time that felt alive—that made her feel alive. 

Feyre hoped it was everything Azriel and his fiance—Eris, she had overheard while hiding out in the kitchens—could have wanted.

She spotted them talking with an older woman near the bar. Azriel looked much the same as he had a decade ago—dressed all in black, still breathtakingly beautiful and darkly brooding—although Feyre could tell, even from a distance, that he had a lightness in his fiance’s presence that wasn’t there before. Eris was tall and lithe and dressed immaculately in a dark green sweater that set off the red of his hair. His arm was around Azriel’s waist, the gesture familiar and easy.

They looked at home in the splendor of the rooftop party—at home, and happy, and in love. Feyre breathed a sigh of relief, of contentment for her once-friend. 

Which was then disturbed by a pointed throat clearing from Nesta, who had someone snuck up on her. “I realize that you haven’t been a server before, but I had hoped that the concept of a passed appetizer would have been evident enough even for you, Fey.”

“Yes, thank you, Nes. World’s best boss.” 

Feyre didn’t give her a chance to respond, because she knew that Nesta would only agree with her statement, instead steeling herself to begin moving through the crowd.

After the awkward agony of approaching the first few clusters of people and mumbling “Mini slider?” at them while avoiding eye contact, she felt herself relax. No one looked at her, really—they just took the food and continued with their conversations. The most anyone offered her was a perfunctory “thanks,” and Feyre wouldn’t have had it any other way.

A few times, out of the corner of her eye, she sensed Mor’s presence as she flitted amongst the guests (and presumably steered them away from Feyre), but no one else at the party gave her more than a passing glance to see what food she was carrying. She was perversely grateful for all the practice she had gotten over the last few years at fading into the background; it was almost second nature at this point to duck her head, to skirt around the edges of the room, to be completely forgettable.

When she only had a few things left on her tray, Feyre limped over to the bar and leaned against its surface, desperately trying to relieve some of the pain in her feet. Mor’s ability to weaponize guilt was unmatched. 

As if she had been summoned, Mor appeared by her side with a knowing twinkle in her eyes, apparently pleased at Feyre’s suffering.

“Here,” she said, holding out her half-full cosmo. “Sneak a sip. You look like you need it.”

She wrinkled her nose and gently shoved the proffered drink back in Mor’s direction. “I’m working.”

“No one will know.” Mor whined, her brown eyes wide and pleading, and Feyre snorted at the memory of her friend turning that exact look on teachers in high school who dared mark her late for classes that she was in fact late to.

Still, she shook her head. “Nesta will know.”

“She’s not that scary.”

Feyre only arched an eyebrow at that absolutely false statement, and Mor shrugged, uncowed, before taking a sip and saying, “Just make up an excuse. Tell her I bullied you into it.”

“Oh, so just the truth then?”

Mor giggled and then pulled Feyre into a hug with one arm, the hand with the cosmo holding it just out of jostling range despite Feyre’s surprised stumble into the embrace. “I missed this, Feyre. I missed you.”

She sighed, trying to ignore the stab of guilt Mor’s sincerity conjured up, “I missed you too, Mor.”

“Good.” She tossed her hair for emphasis, and Feyre couldn’t help grinning at her ridiculous friend. “I’ve got to go distract people before they realize who I’m talking to. But don’t forget—you still owe me drinks.” And taking the last two sliders, Mor stepped away, back into the crowd of guests. 

Realizing that Mor had just granted her a reprieve from the rooftop by clearing her tray, Feyre too began weaving through the party, keeping her head down and trying to make herself small (well, as small as she could be while wearing Mor’s heels) as she returned to the kitchens.

She had just reached the doorway where Nesta still stood when a round of applause began, and she startled and whirled around to face the party. As she looked at all the guests staring back at her, Feyre realized belatedly that she had been so focused on her escape that she hadn’t noticed the hush falling over the crowd, or that Eris had begun speaking and thanking all the guests, or that he had reached out a hand to indicate Nesta’s position by the door so everyone could thank Valkyrie Events.  

Feyre could feel the eyes that slid between her and Nesta, and she inhaled sharply as she imagined the flare of recognition that must be happening.

The youngest Archeron girl…

Hadn’t she left?

Good of her family to—

—Tamlin Greenthorne?

And so, without sparing the guests a second glance, Feyre turned and fled into the relative safety of the restaurant.

Maybe she could hide out in the kitchens for the rest of the party. Nesta would get over it. Probably. Or maybe no one actually recognized her. Right? It had been a decade, and who really cared anyway? Everyone had moved on. Everyone. Mor and Azriel and Cassian and—

“Feyre, stop!”

She knew that voice. The rich baritone made her stomach clench—hope, nervousness, hurt, all at once. It was too much.

Without turning around, she kicked off Mor’s stupid heels, bent down, picked them up, and then kept walking. She heard his footsteps growing closer, and, almost unconsciously, threw one of the shoes behind her, feeling a perverse giddiness at the sound of the thwack and the “What the fuck, Feyre? At my face?” that let her know she hadn’t missed her target.

She kept moving, hoping that a shoe to the face had been enough of a deterrent, but no—he wouldn’t take a hint, wouldn’t leave well enough alone, wouldn’t let her pretend that she had managed to go undetected. Asshole. Feyre raised the other shoe to throw it too—out of petulance and irritation more than a belief that it actually stop him—Rhys—from catching her, when a large, firm hand grabbed her wrist and spun her around.

“I wouldn’t do that, Feyre darling.”

[crookshanksagentofowca]

Kiss

“I’ve finally decided who I want my first kiss to be with,” Cissy announced proudly one day as the Black Sisters took a stroll around the grounds. Bellatrix and Andromeda both groaned. Since she’d started at Hogwarts, Cissy had made it her life’s mission to get a boyfriend, something neither of her sisters approved of, partly because they still saw her as a baby and partly because they didn’t think anyone was good enough for her.

Their lack of enthusiasm didn’t discourage her whatsoever, nor their mother, who kept sending Narcissa letters going over the pros and cons of every Pureblood family who had a son near her age and offering to brew her love potions—not that she needed such help. Between her own good looks, their family’s reputation, and the names her sisters had already made for themselves at school, she had instantly become the most popular girl in her year and boys swarmed her like bumblebees around the daffodils she was named for. There were a select few she flirted with regularly but with Valentine’s Day fast approaching, she seemed to have decided to narrow down her options.

Not waiting for her sisters to ask, Cissy said, with the air of a show judge picking a prize hippogriff, “Lucius Malfoy!” Bella and Andie groaned again, louder. “That prat?” Bellatrix shouted, kicking the trunk of a tree hard, clearly imagining it was the boy’s head. “I don’t understand why you two don’t like him!” Cissy cried in frustration. “I know why you do like him,” Andromeda grumbled. “It’s just because he looks like you!” “What’s wrong with that?” she replied, her cheeks turning slightly pink. “Mother says I should be proud of my beauty so why shouldn’t I try to find a boy who matches it? Besides, the Malfoys are an excellent family.”

“Auntie Walburga always says noble blood isn’t enough on its own,” Bella said haughtily. “Each family and individual has to constantly strive to prove themselves worthy of that nobility. I don’t see Malfoy doing that.” “He seems to think his mere existence is the greatest thing to ever happen to the world; the way he struts around this place,” Andie added. “But, as far as I can tell, he’s not particularly smart or talented.” “He certainly can’t fly!” Bella burst out. “But he doesn’t realize it. I still can’t believe he tried out for the Quidditch team as a first year and was shocked when he didn’t make it! Pathetic little worm! His tantrum was funny, though, I’ll admit.” “He’s got nothing going for him except his name and his hair,” Andie continued. “Which might be enough for some people, but you can do better than that, Cissy!”

Narcissa stomped her foot, glaring at them both. “You two are just jealous that I’m the youngest but I’m going to have my first kiss before you!” At that, they both burst out laughing. Bellatrix even collapsed on to the ground. “First of all,” she gasped, clutching her stomach. “That’s not even true! Andie’s already had her first kiss!” “That was under mistletoe,” Cissy protested. “It doesn’t count!” “And I’m pretty sure it only happened because Rabastan thought I was you,” Andromeda said. Now it was her turn to blush. “Since he seemed really confused when I tried to talk to him after and he’s been avoiding me ever since.”

“Idiot,” Bellatrix muttered, getting to her feet. “He should have known that if I’d ended up under the mistletoe with him, I’d have slapped him! Which brings me to my second point: I’d rather kiss a dementor than Lucius Malfoy. Or either Lestrange, for that matter.” “So who do you want to kiss?” Cissy asked. “Nobody!” “There must be someone.” “I’ve yet to meet anyone who seems like they’d be worth that. All the boys here are so annoying. I don’t want their disgusting mouths on mine!” “It’s not that bad,” Andie said. “Although it’s not that good, either. Mostly it was just…weird.” Cissy frowned.

“That can’t be right. It’s supposed to be the most magical thing in the world!” “You need to stop reading Mother’s romance novels,” Bella grumbled. “To be fair,” Andie reasoned, “it might feel different if you’re in love. I only kissed Rabastan because I was curious. I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.” “And you found out it’s about nothing! All this rubbish about kissing and courting and marriage is so stupid! I don’t want to end up tied to some useless boy for my whole life and have to change my name and do whatever he says. I’m better off on my own!” “But you have to get married!” Cissy cried. “That’s what everyone says.” “Come on, Ciss, you know what a rule-breaker Bella is,” Andie said with a grin. “If any of us can find a way out of marriage, it’s her!”

“But then how will I be maid of honor at your wedding?” “You can be maid of honor at Andie’s wedding.” “Excuse me,” Andromeda objected, “I’d prefer not to get married either unless I find someone I love.” Narcissa rolled her eyes.

“Well I’ve already found someone I love! Probably. I’ll know for sure after I kiss him.” Her sisters groaned yet again. “You know most people don’t marry the first person they kiss,” Andie pointed out. “You’re a bit young to be deciding who you want to spend the rest of your life with.” “But I really like Lucius! He’s handsome and charming and witty—” “Are you sure we’re thinking of the same Lucius Malfoy?” Bellatrix asked. “Sounds like you’ve met a completely different version of him than the rest of us.” “She might have. If he likes Cissy too, he’s probably been putting his best foot forward,” Andromeda said. Bellatrix scowled.

“Doesn’t matter. Nothing he can do could make him deserve Cissy!” “So who would you want me to date?” Cissy snapped. “Who do you think deserves me?” “No one! There’s no one at this school who’s worthy of any of us!” “Do you think the real reason you hate Lucius is just because I like him and you want us all to never grow up and get married?” There was a moment of silence as Bellatrix’s scowl deepened and Andromeda looked back and forth between her sisters uncomfortably. Finally Bella said,

“It’s not that I don’t want us to grow up; I don’t want us to forget that our sisterhood is more important than anything. I don’t want us to start putting some dumb boy before each other. Growing up doesn’t have to mean getting married.” Narcissa sighed. “Don’t be so silly, Bella! Of course, no boy’s ever going to come between us! But I do like Lucius, and I do want to get married someday. That doesn’t mean I’ll stop loving you!” “Doesn’t it? Mother only visits her family once a year. And we see Auntie Lucretia way less than Auntie Walburga because she’s not a Black anymore. Once you get married, we’ll never see you again!” Cissy shook her head stubbornly. “It will be different for us. We’re not just sisters; we’re best friends and we will be forever! Once we’re grown up, we’ll be able to Apparate, so we can visit each other all the time. Maybe, since you don’t want to get married, you could even live with me and Lucius!”

Bellatrix didn’t look like she thought much of that idea. Andromeda laughed at the look on her face but laid a hand on her shoulder and said gently, “Cissy’s right. We can’t stop her from growing up, but we can grow up in our own way. We don’t have to be exactly like the rest of our family.” Bellatrix considered this. “You two are the most important people in my life. That won’t ever change.” “And we’ll always love you,” Narcissa told her. “But one of the things we love about you is that you don’t try to control our whole lives like Mother and Father do. Please don’t start doing that now.”

“I didn’t forbid you from going out with Lucius. I just said you deserve better!” “Which, to be fair, you do,” Andie put in. “You were thinking about forbidding me though,” Narcissa said. “Or trying to, at least. I can see it on your face. But if our sisterhood is really so important to you, can you please stop thinking less about what I deserve and more about what I want?”

Bellatrix’s mouth twisted unpleasantly. While she functioned as the sisters’ de facto leader, she usually filled that role by making fun suggestions of games they could play and ways they could challenge themselves, which occasionally took some persuasion but her sisters were always happier for having gone along with. Strict rules were their parents’ job, and something Bella struggled against the most of the three of them. She didn’t want to put her sisters through the same thing, potentially causing them to rebel against or resent her.

“Fine,” she said eventually, a sharp edge still in her voice. “You can kiss Malfoy if that will really make you happy. But if he ever hurts you—if he even so much as breathes the wrong way around you—I will rip him limb from limb, drag his body into the Forbidden Forest and feed it to whatever creature comes fastest at the smell of blood.” Andromeda, who usually frowned whenever Bellatrix’s threats got too violent, nodded solemnly in agreement this time. To both of her sisters’ surprise, a wide smile broke out on Cissy’s face. “Good!” she said cheerfully. “It’s nice to know you’re looking out for me!”

@black-sisters-microfic

This was supposed to be short and funny and ended up long and kind of sad. Oh well!

[vamptizm]

I’ll say what I say every time— the people doubting Uconn that claim to be “fans”, are the same people that probably doubted them when they had eight players on the bench available to play and still claimed to be said “fan” when they went all the way to the final 4. they the same people that said caitlyn Clark would drop mad points in the first 2 quarters but then praised Nika when she held her to SIX! and these so-called fans are gonna be the ones that applaud them when they win the big east of course because they love to jump on and off of the bandwagon.. They’re the same people that praised iowa over uconn prior to the final 4 game. and unfortunately, the same people that say paige is a bust, paige just sent so much for his organization and has grown more then anyone could say. She’s deserving fk the #1 pick, bad game or not.

nobody can sit here and say they’re having a bad season because look at their record. Sure we’re not beating ranked teams right now, but we’re also not getting slaughtered by them.

people don’t realize you can be the best team, with good numbers and talent and still lose we saw that with USC and Iowa the other day.. but I saw no one hating on juju👀

I don’t think people realize minus page, aubrey, Kaitlyn and Azzi.. if who else is an upper classroom on that team that actually sees the court with heavy minutes? we are fairly young team.. a lot of these people I see on Twitter and especially Tumblr (which is so sad bc this is my comfy app) that claim to be Uconn fans are saying we’re not March ready.. think about last year when the only people that believed the girls could make it even in and pass the first round of March madness were the FANS and the girls..

I don’t think people realize that only a handful of them never played Tennessee and in the atmosphere of Tennessee fans, they literally said it before the game even started the only people that ever really played at Tennessee were Paige, aubrey and Azzi! like news flash they DIDNT play them last year..

I’m not just saying this because I’m a huge diehard fan. I’ve been a fan since I was little, but I’m just so tired of the people jumping on and off of the wagon just because we lost another game imagine how we felt last year lol 

clock it.

i think it’s valid to feel disappointed, discouraged and doubtful after witnessing games like these. most of these top ranked teams rn are so high up, because they barely played against ranked teams so far. i understand people’s reactions, but at the end of the day if you actually switch up and you HAVE been a fan since last season it’s like… we’ve all seen this film before. it’s nothing new, nothing surprising.

however just because things played out the way they did last season, doesn’t mean they will or SHOULD this season. everyone needs to get out of their head idk like i understand all sides but its like… have at least SOME faith.

[noise-misato-boy-destroyer]

when i see u and other transfems who are cool and hot it makes me want to kill myself because i dont know how to be like that and idk what to do about it

i know you'll say shit like 'oh just strive to be the person u wanna be/be yourself/estrogen' etcb ut it doesnt feel like enough

Okay sooooo unfortunately for us broken dolls even getting to where I am won't make those thoughts go away, I still deal with them constantly because there's always a doll out there that'll give you that much dysphoria and gender envy and also life is terrifying but I promise promise promise it's light years better than anything I ever went through pretransition.

I couldn't act like myself in the beginning either because until you get like six months in you may not know who you even are yet, personally I emulated a bunch of girls I looked up to until I found myself n then as it turns out I wasn't too different from them to begin with. There's gonna be struggling, there's gonna be tears, you're gonna wonder why you did this and if it was even worth. This isn't easy by any definition of the word even under the best circumstances, but it's so far beyond anything I could have dreamed that I can't imagine going back. Again, it WILL be hard, there's just no way around that. I think of it like a pact with the devil; there will be a price but the rewards... Oh babygirl the rewards are worth every dysphoric sob session and every second guess and then some.

Don't get discouraged looking at dolls like me either because literally you can just be one, all the makeup looks you need are on here, all the fashion inspo, the community, the attitudes. Girl you're literally at the gender store right now, what looks good to you? I had a bunch of dolls tagged with like a fashion inspo tag for months before I finally took my first steps and that really helped me to find who I wanted to be.

Oh and estrogen will absolutely drive you crazy btw especially if you're already in this mental state, those first six months are a nightmare lowkey. I wouldn't have been able to transition without the support of the community on here.

People aren't just shitposting when they talk about how we're capable of anything. You gotta give yourself more credit <3

[ukiyowi]

December Snapshot 🌷

Note: Happy December Babes!! A small glimpse into what you're December will be like 💞 if you like it please reblog, it really helps and if you want a paid reading hmu! It's all 30% off all December! And if you book before 5th December it'll be 40% off!!

Read left to right 1/2 then 3/4 🌸

Masterlist || Paid Readings || Tip 🍯

🍯 Pile 1

Okay so your December is going to start off very well but you may have some bumps in the road, lets talk about that. You will see your finances improve in December and will find yourself in a position where you are able to help not only yourself but possibly family members and friends who need monetary help as well, you may also get a raise or a promotion or a boss/person in authority under whom you work could put in a few good words for you to the higher ups leading to you getting more opportunities.

This December is all about reaping what you have already sowed and worked hard for. You will find yourself being a great communicator and in harmony in your interpersonal relationships, especially romantic ones, if you do not have someone already, a potential romantic partner may be entering or has entered your life who will be pursuing you, this person could possibly have strong Aries/fire energy and be someone who has a very infectious laugh and possibly freckles as well, they could be very outgoing.

Now onto the bumps, so December is going to do for you which you have not done for yourself so far, very cleaning much in the spirit of cleaning your energy and weeding out people you do not need or who do not have your best interest at heart. You may have been ignoring the flaws in certain relationships not wanting them to fall apart, as well as ignoring a certain opportunity you may be too scared to take, this is related to music or art heavily, and this December the universe will kinda thrust these things upon you and you may find yourself as well as certain people around you heartbroken nearing the end of this month as you prepare for the new year.

🍯 Pile 2

Hello pile 2, a lot of soul-searching comes your way this December, you will be trying to bring back the spark you think you have lost over the years because you have grown up, but people will not make this easy for you trust me. There may be people around you who discourage you to do certain things by either making fun of you/teasing you for it or claiming you are too grown to do it but try not to pay any mind to them as these activities, maybe watching old cartoons or colouring could lead to you connecting with your inner spirit and finding inspiration taking you out of ruts both in a creative sense and also with regard to clarity about what you want to do in life.

You have a youthful spirit, where you are not afraid of starting over and December is going to test you on that, you will be called to keep patient in the face of adversity and change courses because of missed chances or I am getting missed flights for some of you which could be related to some trip being cancelled and you could end up having a hitch in your finances where you may have to control your spending this month to maintain balance by maybe living below your means.

You could also end up having an argument with someone with masculine and earthy energy, particularly someone who may have prominent Capricorn in their chart regarding romantic relationships and commitment, this person may want you to start taking responsibility and committing to not only people but also things and could imply that time is ticking for you and that not making any decisions is not better than making bad decisions or mistakes. They could be a mentor figure or a family member.

🍯 Pile 3

To start off, there is going to be a lot of introspection for you this month, you may feel like nothing's going your way or that nothing is going in general, the amount of stagnation could lead you to feel like whatever you are doing is wrong and could really frustrate you. However, because your financial stability this month is going to be off the charts, you will keep doing what you are doing and build a lot of relationships around you with people who could help you enhance it even further.

You will find yourself getting lucky financially and experience accomplishments that you are already expecting, to be honest, which is why you could feel stagnant even after this.

The reason you may be introspecting this month could be to do with you wanting quietude from the hustle and bustle of the grind life and rethink if this is what you really want. You could question your lifestyle maybe you are someone who is in the middle of city life and have a job or school/college life that is very hectic and you may have a chance to get away from it for a bit and you have to make the choice to either go with the flow or challenge the universe and decide you prefer things the way they are.

December will bring about situations especially career wise where you will need to be willing to let go of preconceived notions and switch perspectives that you do not NEED to constantly grind to get what you want because you will get it due to you deserving it and having the skills to accomplish it. This month will be closing out by you finding yourself confused about these things and trying to make up your mind, this could lead to you hesitating to confront the cracks that may have been forming in your life ideologically rather than materially.

🍯 Pile 4

Oh, Pile 4 this month you will be stepping into your power! Deserved! This could be after a long while of contemplation regarding if you deserve it, but then realising you would not have gotten the opportunities if you did not. You will be working alongside possibly an older person who will teach you how to embody the traits of a leader, being strict yet understanding and building relationships with your peers where you do not feel like you are overshadowing them, which could be a concern of yours.

This month will require you to do a lot of learning, from skills to adopting new ideas and how to be adaptable, being able to communicate effectively and clearly with a wide range of people you will really find yourself in a better place careerwise than you may have in the past months. You will be grabbing all the opportunities you will get to strengthen your relationships with people and go after opportunities ranging from jobs and school to getting something you may have wanted for a while like a bag or a car. You will be very lucky and "right place, right time" could be a strong statement for this month for you.

However, because of all of this and the changing tides, you being new to these things you could feel anxious and overwhelmed by all the responsibilities. Although you would be able to complete them and keep up with them, you could start questioning yourself again, this self-doubt could lead to maybe hitting a tiny bump in the road where you could fumble something moderately important, but this would just make you more determined to trust yourself going forward. You will also take time to relax and rejuvenate this month, and could start meditating! And if not, it would be advisable to because it helps a lot (speaking from personal experience).

Do not plagiarise, copy or reword this is all my work, all rights reserved to Ukiyowi