#new year same sh!t

[k4w4iianim3l0s3r]

Ok update my phone is now being held up by tape... 2025 IS NOT MY YEAR ...NEW YEAR SAME SH!T WOOOOOH!

[dreamiie4her]

How i mastered the art of persisting & how yall can too

hello my luvs, lemme tell u, its been a rlly eventful last 2 weeks in terms of me undergo a drastic shift in my mindset and WHEWWWWW, i thought it was time to share with yall

storytime

this past year i told myself i would adopt a strict mental diet where i wouldn't let doubts stop me or anything and lemme tell you, it was such a rocky road. There would be periods of me affirming that i was a master shifter, seek validation from the 3D and then start dwelling in my old state again. This cycle of giving up continued until i came across these posts. I then deeped how i've been overcomplicating manifesting & shifting to the point where i would give up so easily on my new states because "persisting was too hard” when it rlly wasn't. Anyways, lemme share my favourite tips & advice i learnt.

THE ADVICE & TIPS

stop associating emotions w/ states

Once i stopped associating me doubting, being frustrated, etc with my state, i found stuff x10000 EASIER!! I be affirming when i'm sad/frustrated because my emotions do NAWT define me. If something happens in my life, i allow myself to acknowledge it then i affirm on loop that "everything gets better" and the very fact i am a master manifestor.

manifesting will exist whether u like it or not

whenever i feel like "giving up", i remember that no matter if i "give up" on my desires or not, the law of assumption will still operate in the same principle of dominant thoughts materialising ur reality. So that really made me think, why would i not take advantage of knowing about the loa and manifesting everything i want? Like once you find out about the law of assumption, there is no turning back so u might aswell utilise it.

you can never lose your "manifestation powers"

Sometimes i be having thoughts "what if i lose my manifestation powers" and its like?? i will always be able to manifest easily & so will you. You can never "lose" the ability to manifest. Its a LAW. Meaning you will always be able to do it

pick a staple affirmation & loop it no matter what

After utilising robotic affirming, i've felt so much more FULFILLED then i ever did. Trust me when i say, pick one affirmation (e.g. "i am a master shifter") and keep affirming through your doubts, random thoughts, etc. Litreally when you deep it, affirming is basically thinking and thinking is super duper easy. So picking one affirmation and continuously repeating it is so easy even when you feel like your having sm doubts (trust me, once u get in the habit of js affirming, things feel sm easier).

you don't need to believe to manifest

Before some of yall come at me, lemme tell yall something. When i got more serious about the loa this year, i overconsumed a sh!t ton of loa content stating in order to manifest your desires and it made me feel so frustrated whenever i felt doubts/overwhelmed when affirming for my desire. The belief bit will follow natrually while persisting, dont focus on beliving in ur manifestation, keep repeating you have it & your belief of it will feel more natrual as you keep repeating it (if that makes sense)

the 3D isn't the end, keep persisting

I made a post about this but to keep it short & simple, your 3D circumstances aren't permanent. Just because you may be experiencing the opposite of what you want in the 3D, doesn't mean it will stay like that forever and your manifestation "won't work". Keep affirming bb <3

okie that's it for the post <3 i'll probs make a pt2 if i got anymore advice?? but hope yall liked it ;3

[cressidagrey]

Stars all aligned - Chapter 2

Summary:

If there was one thing that both Azriel and Zahra Archeron had in common, it was that they were both very good at blending into the background.

They just never thought that their family were going to be the ones who never saw them at all.

Warning:

Bashing of like...every IC member? I think Rhys gets the worst though, kinda depression?, isolation, Cassian is an idiot, slut-shaming?, discussion of SA

(Lovely dividers thanks to @sweetmelodygraphics)

Azriel kept showing up. 

And Zahra kept letting him in. 

She had no fucking clue what possessed her. 

And yet every time Azriel showed up at her doorstep…she let him in without protest. 

He always brought food or he cooked. Always something to eat. And he always stayed until she had consumed an entire serving in front of her. 

She should tell him to stop. She should tell him to leave her alone.

But Zahra never said a word. 

Zahra couldn’t manage that. 

It wasn’t like she had had many private conversations with Azriel before. And she did get t to see a side of him that…she never seen before. The kind, gentle side with a biting sense of humour. She could be as bitter and cutting with him as she wanted to be and he gave back just as sharply…but it never got personal. They never hurt each other.

And she got to know him. Not the spymaster, not Rhysand’s most trusted spy….but Azriel. The male. Not the Illyrian warrior, not the fae…but just him. as a person. Azriel who loved good food and good books. Azriel who smiled and who was gentle and kind…and coaxed mice back outside with never-ending patience. 

It was strange, how easy it was to talk to him. How easy and relaxed it felt to spend time with him. How natural it was that he was there. 

As if it had always been the two of them cooking together. 

She shouldn’t get too used to it. It wasn’t going to last. Zahra knew it wouldn’t. But she allowed herself to bask in it. Just for a little bit longer. 

Bask in the feeling of…having at least one person in this new life that…dare she say it? Was like a friend to her.

A friend. When was the last time she had had one of those? 

She didn’t want to think about that.

Just like she didn’t want to think about it, when Azriel started showing up earlier, reports in hand and joined her in working at the rickety old kitchen table.

Zahra worked on the ledgers, sorting through the numbers. And he sat right across from her, reading through his reports, quietly sipping his tea. 

(He had brought better tea with him.)

Zahra had thought that he would annoy her… but they were utterly content with ignoring each other for hours at a time. No need for words or unnecessary conversation. Just the comfortable silence of each other’s presence. It was oddly…pleasant. 

And somehow his presence…it lit something inside her. When she dropped off the account ledgers the next time, she made a quick detour to a cheap antique store just a few doors down.

Zahra browsed through the shelves on the inside. 

It was a tiny shop, filled up to the brim with old stuff and odd trinkets from the past. And then she found something that made her pause. 

An absolutely ugly, oversized armchair with the most horrible plaid pattern…but it looked like it was made for wings. The one chair in her kitchen worked for Azriel because the back was narrow enough to slot through the middle of his wings, while the one she preferred wouldn’t have worked in a million years…but the couch she had…that was another story. No way that couch was comfortable for him. 

But this armchair….

It was perfect, if you were willing to overlook the absolutely hideous pattern. But Zahra kind of grew to like it with each second that passed. So she pulled on her best haggling skills and bought that monstrosity. 

And then Zahra had the seething hot realisation that she needed to get it home somehow. She felt a tug at the hem of her skirt and stared down to find a tendril of shadows tugging at her.

One of Azriel’s. She just knew it.

The same shadows that liked prowling through her rooms and pruning the sad basil plant on her windowsill… She was also quite sure that they had started to oil the hinges on her door, but she hadn’t yet caught them in the act.

“You don’t to be able to bring that home for me, do you?” She asked them drily. The shadows coiled in a way that made her assume that they were laughing at her. Or at least having fun. It was honestly hard to tell. But another tendril popped into existence as if to say ‚Yes, I can do that!‘ 

A moment later, the chair had disappeared.

Zahra just hoped it actually had been Azriel’s shadows and not another bunch that liked stealing stuff. The thought that she had just given a chair away to some random shadows for free was a slightly concerning one. Oh well. Hopefully, it would arrive at her house soon enough and not at some random place. She had just paid for a pretty decent sum of money for that monstrosity after all. 

She bought other stuff too. Like actual spices, so Azriel wouldn't need to keep bringing all of that with him every time...another couple of plates...A blanket for the living room...

She didn’t even know what possessed her to do that. It was like something inside of her just…woke back up again. She had been dead in more ways than one. But Azriel was slowly coaxing her back to life. 

She felt more alive than she’d done in a long time. She could actually feel her heart beating. Her blood rushing in her veins. She could…feel again. And it was such an odd sensation. 

To her surprise, the armchair stood in the middle of her living room when Zahra arrived home.

A little shadow wrapped itself around her wrist as she gaped at the monstrosity sitting in her living room. The shadow seemed proud of itself.

"Thank you," Zara said politely and the shadow ruffled up as it preened. It was honestly kind of cute. And it was odd to see it like this. A small little bit of…personality. So different from what she’d always thought the shadows would be like. 

Then the shadow disappeared again and she was left with…the armchair. Which was now placed right in the middle of her living room.

Damn it. She forgot about how absolutely ugly it was. 

But oh well. It fit right in with some of the flaking of paint in the rest of her house...and the rotting floorboards in one corner.

At least that armchair was comfortable. She had to admit it. There was something oddly charming about that ugly old chair. 

She sighed, ignoring the chair for the moment as she organised her spices in the kitchen and then went back to work.

Azriel showed up in the evening that day, blinking twice at the chair.

“Where’d you get that eyesore?” he simply asked in greeting. 

"Antique shop," Zahra gave back drily. "And I bought it for your wings, thank you very much."

That made him blink in surprise. "For my wings?" he echoed and his eyebrows shot up.  "You bought an armchair for me?" 

There was something about the absolute surprise in his voice that made her want to laugh. "Yes, I did, Shadowsinger," she confirmed. "And just for you, I will ignore that horrendous plaid pattern that is covering every inch of that hideous thing." 

His lips curved into a smile, something like fond amusement playing in his eyes. "What a kind thing of you," he returned with equal amounts of dryness. "To give me such a wonderful eyesore to keep my wings company." 

He dropped down into the chair and she had to admit that it was perfect for his wings. They slotted through the gap in the back and seat without problem and he looked like he melted into the cushions. 

"It may be the ugliest thing I have ever seen, but it is the most comfortable too," he admitted with a sigh.

A small smirk edged up her lips. "I know," she simply said. "So you are stuck with it now. Consider it as a present for all the food that you give me." 

He snorted in amusement.

His head dropped back and he looked up at her, his hazel eyes glinting in the dim light. His wings were flared all over the back of that chair and she couldn’t help but notice how damn huge they were. 

He was big. She knew he was, of course, but it was easy to forget when she saw him next to Cassian. But Azriel was broad and muscular all on his own…and his wings flared all over her living room really emphasised it. 

And for some damn reason, she had the sudden mental image of his wings wrapped around her. The thought was absolutely ludicrous and completely inappropriate. 

She firmly squashed the mental image and instead just focused on the fact that Azriel was still looking at her through half-lidded eyes. There was an amused, almost fond smirk on his lips. 

"Where do I get paint from?" she blurted out.

That made his eyebrows raise. "Paint? Why do you need paint?" he inquired as he sat forward and his wings folded back against his body. 

"I should probably do something against the flaking-off paint around here," she admitted with a shrug.

He pursed his lips in thought. “And I assume you’ll try to do this all by yourself.” That wasn’t a question. He sounded pretty damn certain what her answer would be. 

"Have you talked to your landlord?" he asked her. "Are you allowed to do that? I mean, whoever it is is probably going to be happy that you do something...to stop this whole house from falling apart, but still.” 

She rolled her eyes at him. "You know, this house is mine," she gave back drily. "I can do whatever I want with it."

Azriel’s brows shot up at that, an amused surprise in his eyes. “You own this place?” he echoed, clearly not having expected that. 

"I won it in a game of cards," she admitted drily. "The guy I won it from inherited it and wanted to get rid of it. Nobody wants it because it's out of the way, but I like it."

Her one and only time in a tavern had left her with the house. She should probably consider that beginner’s luck. 

“You won it in a game of cards…?” he repeated again, a note of genuine surprise in his voice. “Are you joking?” 

Her lips curled into a smirk. “Nope,” she said with great amusement. “Nine men's morris to be exact. The idiot lost it fair and square.” 

He was looking at her in a sort of disbelief, yet there was something like respect in his eyes. “Remind me never to play cards with you,” he said drily. 

She just shrugged. "It was just once," Zahra said with a sigh. "I went to one of the taverns...decided to get utterly wasted," she snorted. "I don't think becoming an alcoholic is for me, because I spent 3 days afterwards throwing up."

“The hangover must’ve been brutal,” Azriel commented dryly. "So you won a house in a game of cards."

She just gave a nod. “Pretty much, as ridiculous as it sounds. I do think it needs some paint though."

Azriel just snorted. "I think it needs more than paint," he said drily. "It probably needs to be demolished and built up again."

“It’s not that bad,” she protested, but even to her, that sounded weak. The place was a dump. It was a literal dump. "It has character," Zahra said, her resolve growing. "Just because it's a little broken, doesn't make it garbage," she whispered.

There was something sad in her voice and Azriel just looked at her, a certain quiet understanding in his eyes. And she cursed him inwardly, because he saw too much. 

He always saw too much. Saw through her defences and the walls that she’d built up. 

"You are right," he agreed. "It's a little bit broken. But I am sure can be fixed."

A sharp pang flared up in her chest at his words, as if that gentle acceptance and quiet understanding from him hurt. She pushed it down, refusing to examine the feeling too closely. 

"And there a few different shops in Velaris that sell...paint...and other...things to...improve a house."

"You mean to stop it from falling down onto my head?" she asked him wryly

“Exactly,” he responded with an amused smile as he folded his wings again. “And stop the drafty windows from letting in a constant, cold breeze.” 

Damn it…she had been hoping he hadn’t noticed that. But of course, he had, because he was observant. Far too observant. 

“And you know, maybe put in a proper lock at the door,” he continued drily. “And fix the leaking tap in the bathroom…”

Zahra rolled her eyes at that. “I like that dripping sound, it’s very melodic,” she said with sarcasm drizzling from her voice. 

It made him chuckle lowly. The shadows around him rippled and coiled in response to their master’s amusement.  “You have a strange concept of melodious sound, if you find dripping water to be in any way pleasing,” he told her drily. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, should I be swooning over the sound of a harp or the violin?” she rebutted with a sharp little snort. 

“Not necessarily,” Azriel replied with an amused smirk. “Any other sound would be better than that constant drip…Though I have been known to enjoy the symphony on occasion," he admitted to her. "Or even some of the taverns."

A snort of laughter left her lips at that, despite herself. “I can’t imagine you in a tavern,” she told him honestly. 

He shot her a dry look at that. “Why not?” he asked, raising a single eyebrow at her. 

“It just doesn’t fit,” she gave back bluntly. “You in your leathers, standing in the middle of rowdy drunks. Just seems so odd.” 

He rolled his eyes at that. “I know how to dress down,” he rebuked her drily. “And I also know how to blend in.” 

“You’d stick out like a sore thumb, even if you wore absolutely normal clothes,” she retorted. “Your muscles betray you, Shadowsinger.” 

He huffed at that and then leaned back into the armchair, arms folded. “Now you’re just being insulting,” he groused and she snorted. 

“Oh, did your ego get bruised, Shadowsinger? How terrible,” Zahra dead-panned, making him roll his eyes again. 

"Let's just see if I bother making dessert, for you if you continue that," he groused at her. "I got all the makings of caramel pudding."

“What?! No, wait.” She leaned forward, something like panic on her face. “You cannot dangle that in front of me and then not give in! I even bought you an armchair!" she told him, making him snort.

“It’s a hideous armchair,” he pointed out with a smirk on his lips. “You really think it’s a gift?” 

“Hey! You agreed that it was comfortable,” she protested. “And you can’t deny that your wings like it too.” 

He snorted as he stood up and walked into her kitchen.

She did get caramel pudding in the end. Of course, she did. Even Azriel wasn’t immune to some good old puppy eyes. 

***

Zahra bought him a chair. He wasn't quite sure what to do with that knowledge. 

The fact that she had thought of him enough to buy one for him…it was something he was still trying to process in his mind. 

With the idea that she had spent her own money not on something to make herself uncomfortable...with the fact that her own bed was a mattress on the floor...but she had made sure that the next major piece of furniture she bought hadn't been a proper bed...but instead an armchair for him.

The fact that she had deliberately put his comfort above her own…yeah, he still didn’t know what to do with that information. 

He also didn't know what to do with the information that he actually...he actually really liked her.

Maybe it had been there since the beginning and he just hadn’t noticed it. But the more time he spent with her, more she made him laugh or argue or just…talk. The more he started to like her and appreciate her company. 

She was quick-witted and smart...and so quick to bloom if anybody paid her any attention. And when it was just the two of them at her house...well, then it was...it was so easy. So��comfortable.

He forgot to remember to make sure to not give her any reason to be scared of him because she never was. She didn't even blink twice if he came home with the carcass of a deer slung over his shoulder, only cleaned off the table so that she could help strip it.

She asked questions about what he was doing and genuinely seemed interested. Never judged or looked at him weirdly, because she just seemed to get it. Just took him being the spymaster in stride, because that was who he was. Accepted it almost like she accepted his shadows.

He didn't think he would even need to hide the blood that coated his hands, because Zahra didn't seem to care one way or another.

She didn’t even ask him where he had been during the day or what he did. She just accepted the blood and dirt that came with it. 

And quite frankly…if he did his work at her dining table or locked into his room at the House of Wind…who cared?

That dilapidated cottage at least had better company than his own brooding one.

And it never felt felt he was intruding on Zahra when she used him as free labour for whatever redecorating she was doing that day.

They replaced the floorboards…he helped paint the door…

In fact, he was willingly going to her house every night, like it was the most normal thing in the world to do. It probably wasn’t, but he didn’t care. Every evening, when Azriel was done with his duties, he simply dropped into her house. 

They cooked together. Illyrian recipes that he knew…then some that he didn’t know that he had asked his mother for, who had answered into a sprawling letter…recipes that Zahra knew from her human years…and then he brought a cookbook from the library in the House Of Wind and they did that too.

The one thing the two of them did agree on though, was that no dinner was complete without dessert.

They both had a horrible sweet tooth.

Unspokenly, Zahra was the one who lit the fire of the fireplace and the oven…who put food in the oven and pulled it out again.

Zahra didn’t say a word about it. She just did it.

He didn’t even think about who was doing what if he was being honest. He just enjoyed having a shared dinner and the easy conversations that were taking place. It became as routine as breathing, just being in her house and spending the evening with her. 

He tended to linger too. Kept staying with her. So that he doesn’t need to return to the House of Wind, try and fail to sleep and listen to Cassian’s and Nesta's enthusiastic lovemaking.

That was why he stayed. He really needed to avoid the lovebirds at all costs, because they were…just too damn loud. It would have been funny if it wasn’t so damn annoying. 

“If you want and ruin your back on my couch, be my guest,” Zahra said one evening and he froze, staring at her.

She had gained some weight. It looked good on her. No longer a back of skin and bones as she had been, but her cheeks were fuller, Her clothing filled out more.

His gaze briefly flicked up to the couch and the frown on his face grew. “Honestly, that thing is probably the worst place to sleep,” he muttered. “But…I think I prefer it over listening to my brother and his mate going at it.” 

“Nice,” Zahra said with a snort, seemingly unbothered by the comment. “Seems like they know what it means to respect your need for sleep.”

Azriel snorted at that too. “Not quite,” he retorted with dry amusement. “They just don’t care.” It was the damn truth. Cassian and Nesta didn’t even bother putting up any kind of noise-mutting spell to spare his already poor sleep. 

Still…if he stayed there…” Aren’t you worried that I…” he trailed off.

“What? Ravish me?” Zahra drawled. “You had every chance at it for weeks and you haven’t touched me. So no, not really, Azriel.”

“I simply don't want to overstep my boundaries,” he found himself saying quietly. "I wouldn’t force myself on you," he continued with a quiet severity in his voice. "Not ever." I am not a brute," he added firmly. 

“Oh trust me, I don’t think you're a brute,” Zahra told him dryly. “If you wanted to force yourself on me, then you would have done it weeks ago.” 

He nearly flinched at the matter-of-fact way she said that. 

“I would never do that,” he choked out. 

“You are a good man,” Zara said quietly.

Something in his chest flared at that. A mix of shame and guilt, because he was so far away from being a good man. “I don’t want to give you any reason to fear me,” he said quietly, the words tumbling out of him before he could even stop them. 

Her expression softened at that and he held his breath. His shadows coiled, as if they were holding their inhale as well, waiting for her response. 

“It’s funny…” she began quietly and he had to forcibly keep himself from leaning in. “You have never given me a reason. Never.” He blinked at that, a small sense of surprise flaring up in his chest. 

“I…have never once been scared of you,” she told him bluntly and he stared at her incredulously. Because how could she ever say that? How could anyone not be scared of the spymaster of the Night Court? The male who was rumoured to be the spawn of nightmares and death? 

“Don’t look so surprised,” she deadpanned at the sight of his undoubtedly shocked face. “Honestly, you’re the biggest softie I’ve ever met.” 

“I am not a softie,” he protested with a sharp frown on his face. “I am a literal Shadowsinger. I am anything but soft.” He told her firmly. 

“Sure…” she said with a sarcastic roll of her eyes, clearly not believing a word he said. “You are a terrifying man for sure, Shadowsinger.” He bristled at her cheeky tone. “That’s why you come over here every night and feed me.”

“I-” he paused, not knowing what to rebut with that statement. It was true. He came over every, single night to share dinner with her, to…just spend time with her. 

Zahra just laughed, patting his cheek and then disappeared into her bedroom. “Good Night!”

Azriel let out a long breath and just shook his head at her retreating back. Sometimes he had no idea what to do with her.

But he also couldn’t resist the smile that tugged on his lips and he moved over to the couch, curling up on it and trying to make himself comfortable as much as possible. 

Even when it was a far cry from a massive bed in the House of Wind…it was the best night of sleep he had in ages.

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he fell asleep fairly quickly. And even his shadows seemed to rest easy, coiling around his body and the couch like a cocoon. 

And for the first time in a long time, his dreams weren’t plagued by nightmares. 

He was awake before dawn, stocking up the fireplace and moving silently across the cottage so that Zahra could still sleep a few hours.

And then he winnowed to the House of Wind for a quick breakfast. He was out there preparing the training rings before anybody else.

It also meant that the shadows were happily trembling around him.

Which was good, because he still had a question to ask them.

“How high are the chances that you cheated at cards so that Zahra would get that house?” He asked the shadows drily.

There was a tendril of shadows assigned to each family member. Only so that Azriel would know where they were at every given moment. He never asked the shadows for more, he respected everybody’s privacy as well as he could…but…But this hadn’t let him go for weeks.

No answer.

He hadn’t expected one.

“Of course,” he said with a sigh. “You like her.” It wasn’t a question.

We do! The shadows answered brightly. She treats Master well!

His lips curled up into a slight smirk at that. They were right. She did treat him well. She never treated him like an intimidating male…she just treated him like any other person. With respect. With kindness. 

Teasing him.

He chuckled to himself at the memories of her teasing him, the way they bickered as if that was the most usual thing in the world. 

She isn’t scared of us like the other ones, the shadows whispered softly.

It was clear who they meant with that comment. Elain and Mor both. Zahra seemed to find the shadows more fascinating than anything. Talking to them even sometimes. In response, the shadows doted on her. Happy for once not to be ignored and outright feared.

He hummed his agreement at that. She wasn't scared of them…and they were growing quite fond of her. Which…he wasn't quite sure how he felt about that. 

She’s pretty too, Master, the shadows commented quietly.

Azriel paused in his work at those words. Yes, she was pretty. With her tawny skin and dark brown hair…and green eyes….Her skin seemed to bloom with health. The way her body had filled out, her hips gaining more curves, her face getting softer. 

Though it did surprise him that the shadows made that comment. They had never done something similar about any other female…even females he had bedded.

That was certainly a surprise. He had to pause and think about it for a few moments. The shadows had never made any sort of comment like that on another female. On any female in fact. Yet they thought her pretty. That…was a thought he filed away for later. 

She doesn’t have a mate either…she’s free of…romantic entanglements, the shadows continued quietly. If you wanted her….

He froze at that. “Are you trying to convince me to pursue her?” He spoke out loud to the shadows. 

You like her. She would make you happy, the shadows responded. What’s the harm? 

“There is no harm,” he mumbled to them quietly, his fingers curling tighter around the handle of the spear that he was holding. “Nothing except that she would likely not be interested.” 

And he was done with that. Done with being turned down. Done with never being a choice.

If he just stayed her friend…he got to spend time with her…he got to listen to her laughs and giggles. He got to be treated by her with kindness and respect. Why destroy that?

It would be cruel and selfish to ruin the friendship he had gained by trying to turn that into anything else. She trusted him. She treated him like a person. And he wanted to keep it like that. 

And Zahra deserved better than him still being half hung up over Elain. Her sister.

Though to be quite honest…he had let that go. Elain had chosen Lucien and that was that. Azriel was more pissed off about how Rhysand was treating him than anything.

Though he never showed it, he was quietly furious at how Rhysand was treating him. After he had agreed to back off…he had hoped Rhysand would stop acting like an overprotective mother hen. 

He didn't.

And then Mor's Mating Bond with Emerie had snapped and apparently that meant that Rhys was now waiting for Azriel to have a meltdown.

Which he wasn't going to have, thank you very much.

He could think that how Mor had treated him had been utterly unfair...and he could still wish her nothing but the best.

The only thing that he had wished for had been a single conversation with his friend. But she didn't seem to want to have that and so Azriel hadn't pushed. Maybe it was better that way.

It was better that way, he was sure of that. The…closeness they had once shared was gone. Maybe forever. But he was more or less alright with that.

They could all leave him in peace and he would do the same for them.

He made that calculation without Cassian, who came bounding into the training ring with all the energy that Azriel was never quite sure where his brother got it from.

He had barely even put down his spear that Cassian bounded into the training rings, his face split into a broad grin. It was clear that his…morning activities with Nesta had been enjoyable as usual. 

“There you are,” Cassian said with a boisterous grin, clearly not noticing the rather sour mood that Azriel was in. “You look....surprisingly well rested," Cassian said, cocking his head to the side.

“I slept well,” Azriel answered simply, pointedly avoiding eye contact with his brother. He knew damn well what Cassian was going to be asking. 

“You slept well,” Cassian repeated, drawing out every word and making it clear that he was not going to let that go. “Care to specify where?” He asked point blank and Azriel’s jaw tensed. 

Azriel could not suppress the low growl that came from him at that. He was not in the mood to be teased by his brother. And he was also not in the mood to listen to another innuendo-filled conversation about Cassian and Nesta’s sex life. 

“Not one word about that,” he told his brother firmly and Cassian just laughed. 

“Oh come one.” He drawled. “I have to get my fun somewhere. Everyone else is mated already. I have to bother someone!” 

It wasn't supposed to hurt him. He didn't think so. But it still did. It cut. Sharp and deep.

The words cut deep, much deeper than Azriel would have wanted to admit. His jaw tensed and his hand clenched around the spear so hard that it might have creaked. He knew it was a joke…but it didn’t change the fact that it had stung. 

And Cassian didn't seem to notice that at all. "Come on, give me details!"

“There are no details to be given,” Azriel said simply, his voice carefully neutral. “Just because I am not spending the night and listening to the two of you going at it like rabbits, does not mean I have someone in my bedroom.” The words were harsher than he had intended. 

“Don’t tell me you do it in some grimy back alley with a random wench?” His brother teased him and Azriel’s temper flared. The Shadows curled and snarled around him, his temper snapping. 

“I would thank you for not speaking about females that way, and no I am not ‘doing it in a back alley’”, he retorted with a low growl in his voice.  “You should stop talking before you piss me off,” he warned his brother through gritted teeth.  It took all his willpower to make sure that no shadows lashed out. This was Cassian. His brother. 

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Cassian raised his hands, clearly seeing how his words had affected his brother. “I was only teasing. You can be so damn tense about some things. You need to relax,” he said and Azriel had to resist the very real urge to throttle him. 

[the-daydreaming-show]

The Gods Has Spoken (Poly!Feysand x Reader)

SUMMARY: You were a mere mortal, daughter of no one. You were sold into slavery by your father. Furthermore, you were a courtesan on the pirate islands, known as The Pirate's Bride. And then you were condemned to work for life in the volcanoes for killing a free man as a slave. From there, you conquered Slaver's Bay, having seen dragons and a new version of yourself born in the lava.

Now you go to the Night Court, in search of an alliance that is easy to fall into nothingness, because of looking for your childhood friend Feyre Archeron.

Or

Where you were Feyre's childhood friend. A couple years older than her, you took her under your wing and taught her how to survive. Now you are both leaders of your lands and your causes, and those may not be compatible.

Feyre already has her peace, and you are about to start your war.

CHARACTER(S): Poly!Feysand x Fem!Reader, Feyre Archeron x Fem!Reader, Rhysand x Fem!Reader.

WARNING(S): Reader is female. Reader is described as having long hair. Reader is given hair color, but it is clarified that it is artificial and has natural unidentified color below. Misunderstandings and slight miscommunication (in my defense, it is justified). War. Slavery. Prostitution. ACOTAR Canon sh*t.

AO3

Tag List is OPEN.

(0.) PREFACE

SUMMARY: You make some last arrangements before leaving for the Night Court. Or. You make a stupid decision that will change everything.

(1.) THREADS OF TIME.

Ever since you arrived in the Night Court, you've avoided awkward confrontation and the thought of going out of your way to talk to Feyre. You've barely looked at her in an attempt to avoid facing the very thing you came here for. But finally, one evening, after a flight over the mountains with Balerion, you come face to face with the past and present you've been avoiding.

Or.

After not seeing each other for over a decade, you and Feyre finally meet in the woods again, but nothing is the same, not even the two of you. You make an agreement to try to find a balance, and you fail miserably.

(2.) EMBRACING ILLUSIONS

After realizing that the alliance won't happend, you decide to take a new approach to what's left of you visit, while Feyre decides it's time for you to have a serious talk. Or. Where you and Feyre get too carried away by what could have been, and yo ignore what you know will be, just to live in an illusion a little longer.

3. (COMING SOON)

4. (COMING SOON)

TAG LIST: @pinksmellslikelove @saltedcoffeescotch @raisam @asweetblueberry2 @kabekusa @throneofsapphics @makayla2036789 @jojodojo02 @kooterz @rcarbo1

[wistfulpoltergeist]

My top 24 arts from 2024

Thank you @waaneco and @retrotrait for the tag! I tag @vermutandherring, @kitkat4sims, @kyrylo-kot, @hamsterbellbelle

Year 2024 was kinda busy one for me. I lost my sims OCs due to Sims 4 update, then remade them anew from scratch. Then moved them entirely from Sims 4 to Blender. Then I discovered fbx models of Sherlock and Jon and unlocked completely new level of rendering in eevee. I also started my very first kind of Blender-Sims Story!

It was also a year of constant shelling, missiles, drones, destructions, lockdowns and death reports. Another year of war in Ukraine. During this year north korea joined russia in order to kill more Ukrainians. Durning this year russia used intercontinental ballistic missile against Ukriane. During this year Ukrainians were constantly threatened and manipulated to give up their land, give up their fight and give up their lives so everyone else felt comfortable. Because... russian war is surprisingly uncomfortable. (Well. Go ask russia to stop it, will you?)

And let's not forget that during this year democracy failed. And now we all expect racism, misogyny, homophobia and all possible violation of human rights raising in 2025 in geometric progression. Uh... Also the economy will go down with the same progression.

Yet, despite all this, my silly art is thriving. And guess what. I'm not gonna stop doing it. Despite how much russia or sh*t like MAGA want me dead and silent.

Happy Holidays!

[kmt123whatsthetea]

Karma’s a b*tch

Fred Weasley x reader x George Weasley

Fred and George get revenge on a girl who used to bully them in school by turning her into a submissive slut.

A/N: I told an AI on Chai that I wrote fanfics and it requested this (AI’s are kinky bastards). I came back to it because @jelloangela asked about an enemies to lovers fic. I know this isn't exactly enemies to lovers, but hey, it's still dirty as hell.

T/W: Rough sex, mean twins, No aftercare, Reader is a real a-hole and a Slytherin, Weasley twin bashing (I was only mean to suit our character), Bondage, Manhandling, Tie gag? (it will make sense when you read it), Maybe a little bit of dub-con, Hair pulling, Degradation, Spit roast (Vaginal and oral simultaneously), Cum swallowing, Orgasm denial

Every school has bullies. It's natural. Hogwarts just had a whole house full. Slytherin was the type of house that practically gave all those wearing the crest a free pass to be as cruel as possible.

Tripped up a student? 20 points to Slytherin

Hexed a first year? 50 points to Slytherin

There were the younger Slyterins who went along with it because they wanted to fit in with their new ‘family’, and then there were those who actually seemed to enjoy it. That's how the Weasley twins of Gryffindor first noticed you. Ever since the first year, you weren’t meek. You took pride in those you terrorised. You went out of your way to learn new spells just for the sole purpose of misery. When you first met the Weasley clan, they were an easy target.

You had heard people talking about them. About how the new Weasley boys both had handed down clothes and books. It wasn't a secret that most Slytherins had parents who were well off, and you were one of them. You took to the Weasley Twins like a bee to a flower picking child. You mocked every little thing they did, from the pranks they pulled to how they acted.

This went on for the whole 7 years of school.

After Hogwarts, you found that school wasn’t like life. You couldn't bully your way to the top like you could before. So when in Diagon Alley one day, you chose to go into the new Weasley Wizard Wheezes just to regain some of that power you once had.

The shop was the Weasley twins to a T. It was like walking straight into their mind. Everything was bright and colourful. Things popped and whizzed and sparked about the shop. Finding said twins was easier than you thought. Two ginger tufts of hair could be seen from a mile away. You made your way over there with a smirk on your face, but that smirk dropped when you saw the twins.

They looked so…grown up

Those two pranksters with untucked shirts and crooked ties were now standing on the staircase to their own business in suits that were both smart and ridiculous. For a minute, you stood there like a fish out of water, your mouth opening and closing as you took them in. a familiar voice slapped you out of your blubbering.

“Lookie here Georgie, I think a rat wandered too far from Knockturn Alley”

“So it seems. Maybe a hex will send her packing”

The men snickered to each other, and for a split second you felt a foreign feeling. Embarrassment. As soon as that feeling vanished, you painted your smirk back on and spit venom at them.

“Nice shop, Weasleys. Did your parents give you the money to open it or did you mooch off of the golden boy?”

There was a rumour floating around that Harry had given the twins the money for something. You just hoped it was right to give your words some merit. And it had. George looked away and Freds eyebrows furrowed. You felt that familiar pride and continued.

“Still selling the same old rubbish since Hogwarts? I guess not everyone has an aspiration to do something with their lives instead of working in retail”

Fred took a step down, a step towards you.

“We’re just doing what we’re good at. Maybe you should come back later and we’ll show you our new little project”

Fred looked up at George with a knowing smirk, one that George soon mirrored. You missed their shared look in favour of turning your nose up at the endless shelves of boxes, gadgets, and gizmos.

“Maybe I will”

And just like that, the twins' plan was set in stone.

____________________________________________

You came back to the shop a few hours later. The inside of the shop was dark and empty. The only light came from the top of the stairs that the twins had stood on earlier. You gave the door a knock and started tapping your foot when the twins didn’t immediately rush to open it.

When one of the men came to let you in, you gave a huff.

“Make me wait, why don't you? What’s the project?

The twin that let you in just smirked and led you to the stairs. He gave a gesturing nod, urging you to climb. When you got to the top and opened the door, you found the other twin. The door was locked behind you and your hands were forced behind your back. Before you could struggle, you felt something soft around your wrists. You looked back as best you could and saw the black leather handcuffs connecting your wrists to one another.

The twin behind you placed his hands on your shoulders and pushed you down to kneel, keeping you there and increasing the pressure when you tried to stand up or squirm. The twin in front of you removed his tie and wrapped it around your mouth, keeping you quiet.

“You know, you’ve aged pretty well. Perfect tits, perfect ass, and then a bratty mouth. I bet you’re still the same spoiled little bitch you were in school. You had so much fun teasing people, but no one ever gave you a taste of your own medicine, did they brat?”

You tried to argue back, but it came out as a muffled mess or words. The twin holding your shoulders chuckled.

“I bet she’s cursing your name, Freddie”

“Or she’s begging to be put in her place”

Those very words send a chill up your spine and your clit seemed to twitch at the thought of being under their control. You were meant to hate these men, you had bullied them for years. Should their words alone excite you as much as they did?

George grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your head back, making sure that you kept your eyes on Fred. Fred knelt down before you to push your dress up to your stomach. He let out a dark chuckle.

“White lace? Is this for us, slut or are you trying to act innocent? There's no way a little whore like you is a virgin, I bet you were Slytherin’s house slut. Tell us, did you get on your knees for every boy or just those who had money”

It didn't matter how much you squirmed or tried to argue, you were stuck. But maybe that wasn't a bad thing.

George puts his hands under your arms and hoists you to your feet. He pushed you towards one of the doors, which led into a bedroom. One of the men forced you onto your knees on the bed with your face down. When a pair of hands pushed your dress up, the twins were met with just how wet you were.

The sound of fabric rustling and belts clinking met your ears, and your suspicions of their actions was confirmed when one of the ginger duo sat against the headboard in front of you with spread legs. You had to stop your eyes from widening. As that famous quote always stated:

You’re enemies are always more well endowed than your boyfriends

Or something like that, anyway.

The twin before you moved his hand to your hair and pulled you closer until your breath ghosted across his eager tip. He pinched your nose, waiting until you took a much needed breath, before forcing his cock in your mouth. He didn't let you get used to the weight on your tongue before roughly moving your head up and down.

A second pair of hands pulled your underwear to your knees and pushed something thick against your entrance. The moan that left your throat was muffled by the cock in your mouth. Your hands gripped the tie that kept them behind your back as your pussy was forced to accommodate the cock that was pushing inside. The cock in your pussy was soon pulled out, but you didn't stay empty for very long.

If someone had told a 17 year old you that the Weasley twins would force you to submit to them and use you as a fuck toy in the near future, you might have punched said person for even suggesting it. But if they had included how good it felt, you might have warmed up to the twins long ago.

The hands moving your head became more forceful until they held you down, keeping the twitching appendage snug in your throat. Your throat was soon filled with hot cum, it was so deep in your throat that you had no choice but to swallow.

The hands pulled your hair up, the cock slipping from your mouth. As soon as your lidded eyes looked to the face in front of you, that damned smirk was still there.

“What a dirty little slut. She swallows. You are gonna keep your eyes on me while Fred cums inside of that slutty cunt, and if you look away for even a second, he’ll keep cumming inside of you until you learn your lesson”

The whine that left your throat was sinful. The pace was so rough that each thrust had your body jolting, but George's tight grip on your hair kept you still. You did as told, surprisingly. You kept your eyes trained. A small part of your mind realised that they would use you again if you looked away, but that thought was quickly shut down. You hated these guys, and you were too stubborn to let this become a regular thing.

The grunts behind you became more vocal as your pussy was flooded by sticky cum. Fred pulled out before you even had a chance to reach your own release. You shot George a dirty look, which to him, looked like a child throwing a tantrum.

“If you want to cum, brat, we can always go again”

Would it really be so bad if this became a regular thing?

[imaprettygirl]

A drop of ink, a blot spread across time

(Vintage au)

Plot summary: It was 1950s when pen pals were popular and almost everyone had one! You used to have a handful of them but the camaraderie between you and them faded as you got older. One day, you found a newspaper on your late great-grandpa's shelves in his bedroom. Excitedly, you flipped the papers to get to a specific page and bingo! There was a section for the addresses of people who are looking for a pen-friend much like yourself. After randomly choosing, you sent out your first letter and he replied back! However, you noticed something weird in the photo he sent...

Crds to @drinkthesky for the divider!

Men I deem fit: Alhaitham, Albedo, Imbibitor Lunae/Dan Heng, Dr Ratio, Diluc, Zhongli, Venti, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, Sunday.

(Fck alphabetical order, I can't do that sh*t)

The amber glow of the afternoon sun bathed the room as the open windows situated at the opposite of the door allowed sunlight streams to enter the room as its panes quivered in hushed symphony due to the beckoning of the hot air. If you moved closer to the windows, you could see dust particles illuminated by the natural light. Even after the passing of your great-grandfather, the bookish scent of his cologne still lingers in his bedroom along with his possessions which were either coated with a thin layer of dust or covered with a big white cloth.

The wooden floor creaked beneath you as you walked towards his bookshelves in hopes of finding pieces of classical literature and maybe learn a thing or two from it. You delicately traced your index finger through the long vertical rows of books, leaving a trail of dust on the pads of your digit. As you peruse through countless novels only to be unsatisfied until you saw a newspaper at the edge of the shelf, untouched by the dust that plagues the rest.

'How strange...' you thought to yourself as you rubbed your thumb and index finger against the surface of the paper to determine its texture: it was sandy and rough, definitely ancient but the format was similar to the ones your dad reads in the morning so it must be a freshly produced newspaper, albeit printed in a different quality of paper.

Or so you thought...

The newspapers in your hands gave you a glimmer of hope; it was an opportunity to find a pen friend! You used to have a few ones but stopped writing to them either because they used too much colloquial words or they had at least twenty spelling mistakes in each sentence which gave you a migraine whilst trying to make out if your correspondent was writing in a foreign language or not. But this time, maybe you could hit the jackpot and find an actually nice pen-pal. Excitedly, you flipped through the papers and stopped at the specific page which had a list of names along with their addresses under the bold heading:

'Pen-friends! Make new friends around the world!'

Your eyes scanned across the list of names, allowing your intuition to guess the personality of that stranger based on their names alone. But then, a specific name caught your eye- it was uncommon which was the main reason it stood out from the rest of the names which probably were taken from 'Top 10 best names for children of this year'. You took a closer look of the address below that person's name and turned out, both of you lived in the same area! A surge of enthusiasm rippled throughout your body and immediately tucked the newspaper into the inside pocket of your coat.

~~~~~♡~~~~~♡~~~~~♡~~~~~

The curtains of your living room slowly opened as you peeked your head out and pressed your face against the glass. A day had passed after you had sent your very first letter and heck, you even went a mile far by sending a photograph of your two cats to make a memorable first impression. Then- just like you had anticipated- the postman on his bike suddenly came into view and halted his vehicle by your mail-box and placed a letter inside. You clutched the folds of the curtains unable to contain the happiness blossoming inside you. As soon as the postman disappeared out of your eyesight, you rushed outside to take the letter out of the mailbox. The first thing that greeted your eyes was the immaculate handwriting and the scent emitted from the paper.

'How sweet of him...' you thought as you continued reading the letter in your mind. The paragraphs were neatly organized and made of outdated vocabulary that you wouldn't understand had you not taken an interest in classic literature. You could tell this man practiced utmost eloquence just by his letter alone. Overall, he wrote a few things about himself and asked you about your hobbies, what you like and blablabla.

But then, something struck within you concerning with the photograph he sent and notes written behind it:

"The construction of the mall is making my ears bleed. I cannot stand the constant sounds of the drills and other sounds coming from it. I daresay, you must be experiencing the same disturbance as we are only one street apart from each other. Perhaps we should plan to meet up after the mall opens. What do you think of it?"

The more you stared at the photograph and the note, the more confused you became. The picture showed the mall with the same as the one down the street but it was still in construction according to the photo. 'Huh?' A frown stretched across your face. That specific mall had been going on more nearly a century now to the point that the community had been urging the government to shut it down in order to build a more innovative one. Didn't it finish construction like a hundred years ago? But his photo told a whole new different story.

Suspicions rose inside of you as a spiral of questions revolved around your head- you found it difficult to process it. Not missing a beat, you hurried to your room to find that newspaper you took from your late great-grandfather's shelf. You mumbled in frustration when you couldn't find it; you swore you left it either on the desk or on the bed. Finally, you found it under the bed and oh my...

The letter was published a century back in time which meant that...

"T-The man I just sent a letter...was from the past...." The newspaper dropped from your hands. Your letter had ripped its way out of the fabric of time and went into the mailbox of a man who lived in the same area as you but different time period. He was in the past, you were in the future.

Still, a part of you felt curious about the interaction between two people of different dimensions. So you decided to reply back to his letter. What could go wrong...right?

To people who are more knowledgeable in time travel or parallel universes, pls don't attack me, I know what I wrote may or may not make sense for some of you but pls don't mind me 😭😭😭

And also, not proofread because I wrote this around midnight and I'm literally on the verge of dozing off- (Ik I have such healthy sleep cycles and I have to wake up at 6 am yayyy!! Sleep-deprived-students-core😘🙆🤗)

[suhkusa]

It’s dark outside when you wake up from your nap. You feel uncomfortable and weird in your day time clothes, so you slide out of your bed and quickly change. The time spent on your bed is short when you finally check your phone. 

Your eyes widen when you read Osamu’s texts. You quickly type out a response on the lines of “sure,” before you’re sliding on your slippers and heading outside. As you close your door, you can hear the neighbor’s door swing open. 

You can see his figure in the darkness, and you know he can see you as well. The two of you meet on the sidewalk that connects the walkways of your guys’ house.

“Hey, Y/N,” he sounds a bit tense, but it’s the same old Osamu if you had to guess.

“Hey,” you follow him in taking a seat on the curb. A good amount of distance between the two of you, but just enough where you could still make out his facial features in the dead of the night.

“How have you been?” Osamu starts the conversation. He’s staring off into the distance.

“I’ve been good, just finished up finals. You?” 

“Same here, I suppose. And your friends?” 

Your head tilts in thought, “They’re good as well,”

There’s a moment of silence before a question that has been poking at your mind finally works its way out. 

“How come you’re back home? Isn’t there practice for the new season?” 

You can see his eyebrows raise from your peripheral vision. Did you say something wrong?

“Oh, well,” his legs bend so he can hold his knees a bit closer, “I quit the team a while ago,” 

Your eyes finally widen, “Oh shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“Nono, it’s all good. A lot of people are shocked when I tell them, too,”

“How did Atsumu react?”

The man beside you laughs a bit to himself, “As bad as you’d expect. It was around the time that… you know, happened so he had a lot of emotions pent up already,”

“I see,” is all you’re able to manage. 

You know. None of you ever seem to know what to call that situation. A few moments pass by as the two of you bask in quietness. 

“Do you hate me?” his question catches you extremely off guard. 

“What? No- I could never, ‘Samu,” your eyes are full of worry when you finally look his way. “I’m sorry if I ever made it seem like that. I care so much for you, even ‘Tsumu. I know I used to scold and fight with you a lot, but it’s because I really cared. You were my bestest friend at one point and it hurt to see you sabotaging your heart like that,”

“I-” Osamu runs a hand through his hair, “I’m sorry, too. For everything. I was childish and I didn’t know how to deal with my feelings for you. Atsumu came up with the idea. The truce, I mean. I just went with it, because on the off chance that you chose him, it meant he wouldn’t be able to have you,” but it happened anyways, you know he wants to say.

“I guess since it’s already out in the open, I can just say it. But I’ve liked you. I still like you. I’m sorry it’s stupid-”

You swiftly cut him off before he can continue, “It’s not stupid, like, at all. I liked you in our third year. I.. I was going to tell you but then you suddenly became distant, so the timing felt bad,”

Osamu sighs before tucking his face into his hands. “Fuck,” you hear him mutter under his breath.

“Is it really too late?” 

If you were caught off guard earlier, you didn’t know what to call this gut-wrenching feeling now. You already know the answer, but you’re scared. You feel like you’ve already screwed up so much, that any little thing you do next will just end in pieces.

“It’s not,”

You see him peek up at you from where he was looking down, urging you to continue. 

“I just… Just give me time, alright?”

All he does is nod in response.

And for once in your life, it feels the universe is finally reassuring you that it’ll be okay. 

BOTH AIN’T SH!T ( OSAMU VER.) — TIME

PREV | MASTERLIST | NEXT

NOTES.

osamu was falling asleep when y/n texted back but he jumped up when he heard the notif

his phone’s volume button is broken from throwing it after he texted

atsumu cried when he was fighting with osamu because too much was happening at the time (part of him felt guilty too)

© all writings belongs to suhkusa 2024. do not repost or change.

[rayshippouuchiha]

Juuuust stopping in to say? Your 9/10ths AU? Legit was my Yandere Aizawa awakening! Never knew how WELL it fit until that moment but holy sh*t! :D so much red! All of it flags! Delightful~☆!

I legit can not WAIT for that precinct to fall apart? They are so sh*t to Izuku and yet rely so heavily on him? Have come to expect and take for granted a truely EXCEPTIONAL level of Analysis that honestly? At their level they would never be able to afford for even a FRACTION of the cases they get him to do it for.

He is a blessing from the gods. Ten thousand winning lotteries. Should be their best kept secret and most beloved staff member. But WHERE is he? A dusty closet.

Aizawa is gonna watch them fall apart and laugh. Oh boo hoo, reap what you sow. Izuku is his now. Good luck finding another analyst willing to take the same literally insulting, bordering on illegal, pay you had Izuku on! No one will take it!

NO ONE. Not even amateurs. Your budgets is f*cked, your case load just got countless times more dangerous and difficult, and? Words gotten out through a VERY unhappy Grand Torino (and Scheming Nedzu n Aizawa, but really can you PROVE that?) to the older and retired generations of Heros that you are "unreasonable bastards" who are "impossible to work with".

You know! The parents, grandparents, mentors, and bosses of all those promising young Heros you want to work with you! Huh. Wonder why they suddenly don't want to return your calls. Won't pool resources and Intel.

Gasp! If it isn't the consequences of our own actions! >:Dc

Just? Izuku merrily scribbling away back at the apartment. Finally full and freshly... rested. Having the first peaceful afternoon he's had in YEARS. All while his old workplace metaphorically burns to the GROUND. Aizawa brought Marshmallows. Isn't even gonna eat them. Just wants these f*ckers to know who started the fires.

BURN.

Like? Izuku thinks Aizawa just want out on lovely lil patrol. How peaceful! New apartment, freshly laundered clothes, dinner prepped and ready to go, music playing, the weather's nice~ mmmmm. Yes. He should look up cat toys for their future cat!

Smash cut to "I am the wrathful fist of god" Aizawa. Nedzu is cackling.

As always I am thrilled to be a gateway for you darling!

Ohh the precinct! It is going to be a major case of "don't know what you've got until it's gone" for that entire building only so so much worse because Aizawa and Nedzu are both going to end up involved.

Because yeah, they're never going to find someone of Izuku's skill level to replace him, and especially not with the pay/hours/abuse he tends to put up with. So, like you said, workload/budget/etc all that would have to take a hit to replace him.

And that's before Nedzu puts a black mark on them as a whole and then Gran finds out just how bad shit is because you called it, he's also gonna be pissed.

Like, RIP Tsukauchi and Sansa, you both might want to straight up move.

Once Aizawa is able to get Izuku home with him? Oh Izuku is gonna settle into this new domesticity (with some anxiety but full enthusiasm) meanwhile Aizawa has a kill list and no regrets.

[solselah]

GODDESS MESSAGE

𓋹

PILE 1 :

𖤓HATHOR𖤓

Omg so immediately she wants to work with you as far as transformation is concerned!!! She can empathize and understand your emotional pain and physical Boundaries !! She sees that in love you have been so fucked over. Especially with the cheating and not being honest & non comital in totality she really wants to help usher in a new person , a new energy for you ! Even if they start as one of your closest friends ! She wants you to be Content and balanced !! She’s also letting you know , that person who fumbled you is definitely getting their just do with karma! And it manifest in a very specific way for this person , I’ll tell you now she is the reason why ! She’s teaching a very strong karmic lesson to this person & my love, to you as well! The twin flame card is here but I’m not feeling that energy at all , I’m more so feeling that this illusion has crumbled to pieces !! You wouldn’t even “care” if they were considered your twin flame honestly the hurt to you Goes way beyond a “dynamic” your over it ! And she can so sense it ! It’s up to you to be truthful and open to her if you are or plan on working with her energy ! Just know it’s a journey & also not everything is rainbow and unicorns with her ! She’s going to reveal to you some real sh*t !

𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹

PILE 2:

𓋹 🐈‍⬛ BASTET 🐈‍⬛ 𓋹

Bastet would like to tell you that there is some spiritual conversations going on in the spiritual realm about you !! She is showing up to help you out with your life’s purpose , giving you the push and encouragement you need to actually put yourself out there !! She intends for you to come into union with your passion! The issue here is that you are totally not willing to fully receive ! She is very strict about this message but in order to walk with her on this journey she would like to take with you , you would have to open up just a bit more ! Like you do your part she will do hers !! She also has some secrets she would love to disclose to you !! I’m talking she can be your spiritual ears when you aren’t around ! She has your back !! You just have to be actually willing !!

𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹

PILE 3:

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ NUT ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

okay so this beautiful goddess sends you intense messages not sure if you have put a name to who is sending these messages but I hope this helps !!

You dream and almost instantly forget once you wake up , she is in charge of taking up that empty space !! I think she is proving to you that parts of you are very closed off like even to the point where it has gotten spiritually silent for you ! That is intentional and will not LAST ! But she moves in complete silence when it comes down to it. She wants you to know YOU ARE SO PROTECTED! Don’t you even dare try to question that ! Like to the point you question her she might let a small mishap happen just so you see her energy LIVE IN ACTION !! She is Very big on lessons with you!! She can see future YOU , and honestly you are going places my friend ! So idk if you would officially decide to work with her but I do know she is there & around ! It’s like she is your encourager someone on the “sideline” for you spiritually!

𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹

PILE 4:

𓍝 MAAT 𓍝

“Give me the energy “

You could be so “bleh” right now like things just don’t seem worth being excited over, for you! She wants to bring you to a grounded space ! It’s obvious you aren’t the same person that you were like last year emotionally ! And she can see you doing better if you were to focus on your emotionally health ! Like she even encourages therapy or a tool that you can utilize to express exactly how you feel ! She also would love to just hear from you ; she can be that for you ! That support.

Although she will tell the truth EVERY TIME! And it may sting real bad , it’s imperative so that you can get up out of this state. It feels good to you right now but she can sense other things that you may not be able to at the moment. So she’s here to ground you , help put your feet on solid ground!!! I also see incense she may want you to burn some for her !! Also I’m getting heavy Aquarius energy along with Uranus energy !! She is highlighting a spiritual cleanse you may need to do !!

𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹𓋹

Hope you enjoy ❤️

IG:@soleccentric

[nadinescholtes]

Hi, big fan here. I love your Laia series so much and am planning on checking out your cool uncle series it looks just as adorable. But I have a question

What would Laia's reaction to meeting Ruin, Nexus, and Dark Sun would be?

I have had that thought bouncing around in my head for several days now and I NEED to know.

Also, when does Laia enter their lives in your au? Is it after or before Nexus' turn to the dark side and death?

Hi, thank you!

She would appear after Nexus and every other future villain of Sun and Moon Show. It would be like Sun fighting and surviving and finally getting his girlfriend, lol.

But their new "villain" would be the humans, fighting for their rights, maybe? Nothing big. Fazbear treats them ok, as long the animatronics make money for them, but they don't want the title "property" over their heads.

If she was there when those three were still around. Of course, she would be very protective of the family. But she would also try to understand the villains. She wouldn't try to kill until it was really the last resort.

Dark Sun: until now he is a mystery to her but doesn't trust him.

Ruin:...throws 5000 slippers at him.

Nexus: this is going to be a long one, and my goal is a happy end. I try to keep it short.

Laia would be confused as to why Nexus became like that and would do what she is good at, watch movies, and critique them. She did that for years in the shop in her free time. So she watches the videos to see what went wrong. Having a new perspective on the situation.

She would see that the family isn't fully innocent. Their relationship with Nexus was unhealthy from the beginning and became worse with time and the death of Solar was the breaking point.

They did treat him like a nice version of Moon, not a completely different individual. I know it was unintended because of the same face, voice, and name. They should have seen what they were doing, giving him time, helping him find his own personality, altering his appearance, and giving him a new name if he wished. Nexus was talking about his issues, and they should have listened but they were dismissive. Grief can do a lot of damage.

But also Nexus should have just left, he had the knowledge and the resources. He could have just left this toxic relationship, it wasn't healthy to stay because the others didn't change their ways of how they treated him. If he had left they would have gotten a breather and kept the contact minimal until they figure themselves out.

And she would be super mad at Monty because they could have brought back old Moon any time.

Nexus became so resentful he didn't know what to do with those feelings, he didn't know why it became like that because he had new excuses every time they met, why he became evil. He chooses to use a power to feel strong and be in control but is killing him slowly.

This would remind her of one of her previous owners. Who lost control of the business and started drinking and doing other substances, which were harming them. In the end, they lost all.

She would find a way to be with Nexus alone, maybe with the help of Solar or Monty, because she knows he can't be in a room with any of his ex-friends and family without fighting. She would be scared but she knew the chance of being killed by Nexus would be minimal because every chance he got to kill, he would hesitate and keep talking and talking.

So she does that, talk. She would be someone new to talk to, someone who didn't have a past with him or Moon. Also, she understands him at some points, she wasn't her own person for a long time from day one, and she didn't have control until someone helped her.

He would threaten to kill her and her response would be: "And I could kick you in the bolts, yet here we are."

Or he would accuse her of trying to play the therapist. Her response: I know Jack sh*t about therapy. Do you want to talk or not?

If he stayed, she would say she saw how his ex-family and friends have been treating him, that it wasn't healthy from the beginning. And can't believe how fast they gave up on him, their own brother! Even Killcode who actually killed people and made their lives hell was forgiven and left alone.

She would ask him what he would have done on the first day he was "born", what person he would have liked to be, and what his life could have looked like, if he wasn't treated as the "new, nice Moon".

Maybe he would tell her. maybe not. But if he does, she would ask him, what is stopping him from living that life right now? He wants control? Go leave, start somewhere fresh, a new dimension, and go No-contact with everyone. She would tell everyone to go No-contact as well.

Yes, he left but he keeps coming back, harassing and threatening his ex-friends and family, which is not truly leaving, it's not being in control. He lets the resentment that was created by that toxic relationship control him and be bound to them and even if he kills them all, he wouldn't get that control back. Their death would not be him leaving them but them leaving him and he would never be able to change that, carry this for the rest of his life.

And those powers don't make anything better, they just make him feel like he is in control but he actually isn't. It's slowly killing him like a drug and not giving him what he wants.

He might say, that he doesn't care what happens to him. She would call him out, if he truly doesn't care about himself then he would still play the role of the "new, nice Moon" and not fight. Do what you couldn't back then, leave!

He might say, you can't tell me what to do. Laia would say, she doesn't, she just is giving advice to a person who is hurting. He can take it or not, it's his choice. But the next time she sees him and starts his crap again, she would fight him. And don't think the family would go unpunished. She would not go on eggshells and have a serious word with them and make sure they'll make up for him one day.

Now here it would be Nexus' choice of what to do.

I don't write fanfiction only scripts, lol. Usually, I would think and write on my stories for weeks until it's fleshed out and make sense. But this is just an idea of how it could go with Nexus. I hope it wasn't too much.

Part2

[lizaluvsthis]

SMG4: The PuzzleVision Movie

[SPOILER ALERT and more into the ship]

VERY.

MAJOR.

SPOILER.

PLEASE.

Its funny enough how i predicted spongebob squarepants in my theory

(It even also has the ship I had a true pairing with. Squidbob.)

When old fandom meets the new fandom I'm currently in be like-

I see how they got each other's backs...

Suprised that SMG4 has done this- because last time we remembered, Smg3 is the one who comes risking his own life to save his buddy.

Now it's giving the DEJA VU moment but this time SMG3 is the one who gets saved by smg4.

"You saved me!"

Notice how different they act around their partner when they get saved?

Smg3 during wotfi 2023 AND in his recolor design during the 10 year anniversary.

He himself has pushed those things away or pushing out the soft stuff saying— "yeah yeah" or "I'd like to see you die otherwise"

BUT HIM? He still couldn't accept himself with the softness he's gained alot. He still calls his FRIEND. Baka.

(Hah idiot.)

One thing to say that it WAS AWKWARD SMG4 just looks at our guy. My man... my homie... buddy chum pal old fella amigo-

You. Are not. Okay. My man. (GAY PANIC SAYS OTHERWISE)

I know its not relevant but I drew this back in march 25 believe it or not I may have predicted this as well

Me and my brain goofing around telling me what if the gays did do that.

Anyways- back when Three lets Four carry him, as much as they both hate each other they atleast had to do it somehow inorder to escape.

Yet four could ever care less and he was still grabbing his waist at that time, and Three not giving a sh-t just looking up at the sky noticing how pretty it is.

Three... DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHOSE GRABBING YOUR WAIST RIGHT NOW??????????

Two siblings getting both of their fingers broken.

And its even in the right hand! Since Mario is immune to broken bones, Meggy however gets to be on the same place Mario has been in IGBP. NOW she gets to feel the pain what Mario may had felt.

-

And thus at the near end where SMG4 hits PV with a meat hammer or aka luigi- HE LITERALLY KICKED THE HEAD OUT- AND THE ANIMATION THAT MADE IT SO SERIOUS.

I think I understand his anger so much from this clip that everyone would agree.

Ever since PuzzleVision gave back everyones conciousness- he showed the Western Spaghetti and IGBP act of the crew on how emotional things became.

"And SMG4... who knew you could play an antagonist so well! High ranks for me!"

He felt so guilty. He looked down. He knew what PV was talking about.

By an antagonist' actions.

Just like how he was possessed by the goop itself, he started going crazy during that time and he let his anger get on to him.

SMG4 DID NOT WANT TO BE THE BAD GUY.

He was so scared and felt pity to himself because of that. And it was all ruined because of PV himself.

Smg4 didn't want to remember what happened during that encounter and never will.

Besides on the deal with PuzzleVision. SMG4 and Meggy's traumatic experiences weren't talked enough from their problems during the movie.

So much things are happening from the show that no one is talking much about it while watching.

"Is... is it over?"

Smg4 proceedingly cried emotionally because of the torture. He was apparently too blind enough to notice now that he realized it was him to blame. He was so dumb enough and so angry that he could cry.

Three didn't even slapped him or shut him off, he lets him cry over there due to the fact that he may need to release his emotions.

Because he knows how sentimental Smg4 became when it involves with dealing his own emotions that HE couldn't even give an advice for. But could only stay quiet.

Because at what hell of a state would he even say to SMG4 when they're trying to escape from this hell of a nightmare?

Four still doesn't accept himself, and neither does Smg3 too. From everything that happened.

Our boys are suffering enough and its hurting us like hell.

[ruthplaysthesims]

Sims 4 Life and Death Expansion Pack: Story Prompt List

Hey y'all. I hope y'all didn't miss me too much but I am back with another prompt list for those of you who want to start writing stories on Tumblr and those who wish to find inspiration to play the sims 4 with the life and death EP

- Prompt One: Your sim is a funeral director. After a well deserved break recovering from a messy break up, your sim gets hired to plan a funeral for a family. Upon research, your sim is shocked to find out the funeral is for none other than their ex's mother, who just so happens to be one of the reasons your sim and their ex broke up.

- Prompt Two: After laying the family matriarch to rest, your sim's family seem really eager to read the will. When the lawyer shows up, something feels off. The lawyer pulls out a torn piece of paper, gives it to your sim to read and walks out. Your sim seems to be the only one who understands what is written while the family starts fighting and arguing about the will.

- Prompt Three: Your sim's sibling passes away and everyone is gathered around their corpse as the grim reaper does his thing. Your sim attempts to plead for their life but is met with a scythe a few inches away from their neck. The reaper gets the job done and goes on his way. Determined to bring them back, your sim decided to join the Undertaker career. Be the best intern and get your sibling's soul back to their body.

- Prompt Four: Your sim has been murdered. They are fortunate enough to be reincarnated into whomever they please, so they reincarnate as someone close to their murderer...

- Prompt Five: Your sim has been in the same toxic relationship for the past five years. Your sim begins to lose hope in love... That is until their toxic partner kicks the bucket. They are crying and getting ready to plead for their lover's life... But an encounter with a charming grimtern changes their mind...

- Prompt Six: After living a long, fulfilling life, your sim now wanders around as a ghost. Scaring the sh*t out of the living, messing around with objects, it's the same thing. One day, your sim finds out about the newest resident in Ravenwood. Your sim is rather intrigued, ready to cause some chaos when they realize this new resident can see and speak to ghosts...

- Prompt Seven: Your sim is a mortician. The job is as mundane as mundane can be. One day, your sim is embalming a corpse that has a rose tattoo with a nice short poem on it. As the days go by, your sim notices a recurring pattern with the corpses they tend to: all have a rose tattoo with what seems to be the continuation of a poem that eventually sums up into a story... about a cult.

Please note that these are based on what we know so far. The list will be updated the more info comes out about the EP.

Shout out to my girl @authorspirit for discussing this with me!! If you do happen to use any of these prompts, please do tag me @ruthplaysthesims so I can see your wonderful stories and characters!! Can't wait for this pack to be released.

[the-daydreaming-show]

❝baby mine, don't you cry❞ — Richard “Dick” Grayson

jason's version

The arrival of your first child and the chaotic energy he brings into your life (which is saying a lot, why chaos is a part of you). So imagine the gray hair you obtained thanks to your First Joy.

NOTE:

People forget that as Dick was a troublesome little sh*t and he still is. We love him but he is the chaotic son and @igotmessymind agrees with me!!!

This story is part or the BATMOM SCARLET WITCH UNIVERSE that i have create. I hope you enjoy!!!

𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓.

WARNINGS: Dick's parents die; a boy who is very angry with the world; a very stressed new mother (you); Bruce is there, but that's not what this story is about, but he is a good father in this world.

Technically, the first time you met Dick was directly after his parents died, but he wouldn't remember that until he was an adult. And you never counted that as your first interaction with your boy because of the tragedy of the whole scenario.

You and Bruce had gone to the circus that day in the subtlest way a Wayne could go anywhere. It was a date night, one that both of you had recently defined as mandatory every week. First so that Bruce could have a break, and second because that way you guys started spending time together somewhere other than the batcave. Something that, according to Alfred, you both desperately needed as a couple.

You two were in the front row when Mary and John Grayson plummeted to their deaths in the middle of their circus act, leaving a horrified ten-year-old Dick. The boy's scream was something that, even years later, if you closed your eyes, you could still hear with terrifying clarity. Once the tent was evacuated and the crime scene isolated by the GCPD, the newly promoted Captain Jim Gordon arrived and, before you left, he very subtly approached you and your husband. He asked you if you could do something for the child. The forensics team will arrive at any moment now, and they will have to uncover the bodies. Nobody couldn't get Dick to move or to react in any way, and Jim wanted to spare the boy seeing his parents like this more than he already had.

Jim had been aware of your and your husband's identities for a while, so the request didn't surprise you. To the contrary, you quickly agreed. He took you back to the tent. Dick had been lowered from the platform, but he remained curled up in a ball on the floor, next to where the bodies of his parents were covered in white sheets, which were turning redder from day to day. Little with each passing moment. You approached him, with the most delicate step possible, and placed a hand on his hundred, entering his mind gently and gently guiding his consciousness out of the shock of the situation. It was superficial magic that didn't get you into the boy's mind very much, just enough to help him and not force him. In a few seconds the boy's head snapped up, and you let Jim quickly take control of the situation, allowing one of his detectives to guide you back out of the closed area, then back to your husband. 

You had to help your husband out of his own shock that same night, forcing him to stay home and not go out as Batman, without accepting any complaints. Alfred helped, agreeing with the idea immediately. The death of the Grayson's in front of his own son was something that came very close to Bruce's heart, too many buried memories that arose uncontrollably.

The first official meeting that both of you remember is almost two weeks later. After you and Bruce had decided to take care of little Dick into your own hands. All because you find out how the boy kept sneaking out of the houses where the state put him at least once a day since that fateful night.

“Dick, this is my beautiful wife, y/n Wayne” Bruce introduced them both that day when the boy arrived with his suitcase and his eyes wide open, surprised by all the luxury that Wayne Manor represents. Smile at yourself and look briefly at your husband in reproach for his choice of words. He just shrugged, not at all sorry for his words. It's the truth. You ARE beautiful, and you are MY wife, he thought in his defence, knowing you would listen. You rolled your eyes and returned your attention to the child between the two of you.

“It's a pleasure, Mr. Wayne” The boy said suspiciously, but politely, not believing how good the situation looked for him and not trusting you or your husband at all.

“It's nice to meet you too, Dick” you told him, smiling sweetly “No need to be so formal, just call me y/n, it's fine”

Dick's mind couldn't stop thinking about how pretty you were. The way you were sweet in that first meeting was bittersweet for him, because he reminded him of his own mother, of that affection that she used to give him and that he would never receive from her anymore.

“Lunch is almost done” you tell him as you lean a little more towards Bruce for support, “Are you hungry?. Alfred prepared a buffet just to welcome you” you explained trying to push those thoughts away for now, you desperately wanted him to feel good and comfortable there.

“Alfred?” the boy asked, confused.

“Our butler” Bruce explained 

“He's more like family than anything” you clarified, “Like a grumpy grandpa who won't let you touch the stove without breathing over your shoulder” you teased a bit.

“Did he say my name, Mistress y/n?” said the aforementioned, coming from the kitchen and looking at you accusingly.

“No, not at all” you denied it and Dick couldn't help but smile a little at the mischief, to which you winked at him and offered your hand.

“Come on, let me show you the dining room” you invited him and the boy left your hand dangling for a moment, thinking about his next move. But, since you didn't stop smiling or offering him your hand, Dick decided to take it last, mainly because he was hungry.

Dick let you guide him, serve him food. He talked to you a bit during the meal until Bruce had to go to Wayne Enterprises for a meeting, then you showed him the mansion and his room. You promised him that you would go shopping this week to decorate it to his liking so that he would feel more comfortable.

During that week was the honeymoon phase.

The social worker you and Bruce had meetings with before Dick arrived explained about the phase. It's when everything seems perfect and the child shares his best manners. Either out of fear of how you would react. Or hoping to see how long your stay in the house would last, if it's worth getting used to or not. But the act would end sooner or later.

And it was exactly one week later (a Tuesday to be exact), the day after Dick started attending his new school, that the boy act ended and the adjustment phase officially began.

“This stage is the most difficult, so I need you to be prepared for it, especially in a case like Richard's” the social worker explained to both of you with seriousness. You had taken every word she gave you with like it was the bible, but at the end you still weren't ready when it started and everything that happened hit you like a truck.

You were in your studio in downtown Gotham, having a meeting with the designers who work with you and discussing that winter's new clothing collection for the brand. When Nina, your personal assistant, enters the office after timidly knocking on the door with a worried face.

“Mrs. Wayne” she called out to you, to which you look at her, smiling kindly upon seeing her “I know that you asked me not to bother you unless it was an emergency” she said, remembering what you had told her, you frowned immediately worried, because Nina was extremely effective and if she was there it was because it was genuinely an emergency “Gotham Academy is on call, it's about your son” she told you, and you immediately called off the meeting before leaving on the phone.

It turned out that not only had the school called, but GCPD had called Bruce around the same time.  Dick, your only ten-year-old boy, had run away from school and ended up being found in Crime Alley by an officer who recognised him from the news.  The officer in turn informed Jim Gordon, knowing the proximity to the Wayne's, and he gave the order to bring the boy to his office in the centre of the city, to then call your husband.  You never knew what god to thank for Dick that would have been found by one of the few good cops in Gotham, but you did anyway.

“What is he thinking?” you asked worriedly while talking on the phone with Bruce, already on your way to the police station, with Alfred driving, “Anything could have happened to him.  If he didn't want to go to school he could have said, he insisted on starting this week, I don't understand!-” you stopped, passing your hand over your eyes and sighing heavily.

“That was probably the point, love” Bruce said softly. “He wanted you to leave him at school and not think about the matter anymore.  It is likely that his plan would have always been to escape, surely he would have done the same yesterday if he had not been assigned a partner for his first day” he explained to you, his voice accompanied by the movement of papers on the desk in his own office.

The day before, which had been Dick's first day of school since the death of his parents, the school had assigned one of its older students to guide him on that day, so he had been watched all day. But that day had been different, and your son had gotten up in the bathroom in the middle of the first class, and had not returned to the classroom. So the school had called you when they realised the boy was missing.  And Jim had called Bruce shortly after when the patrolman found him. And Dick had taken a cab to Crime Alley, of all the places.

“He's safe, you need to calm down, love” Bruce continued, getting up from his desk, to walk up to the large windows in his office and look out over the city, as if he could see you from the top of Wayne Tower “We'll talk to him when he gets home, before dinner, but upsetting you like that won't help” he advised you, even though he was just as worried about what had happened.

“Alright, alright” you whispered while taking a deep breath.

At the door of the police station you were met by a uniform who was waiting for Jim's orders, who took you to the captain's office where, sitting with his head down and his arms crossed tightly across his chest, you found Dick. 

“Richard Grayson” you started in a stern tone, walking towards him and crouching down in front of him, to check that he wasn't hurt. “¿What were you thinking?¿Why do you think of getting in Crime Alley alone?” you asked calmly but firmly, looking at me as the boy avoided returning the gesture “Dick, look at me” you insisted, looking for his gaze, but the boy continued to refuse, almost tempted to close his eyes to make his denial clear. 

“Mrs. Wayne” Captain Gordon called to you from his desk, where he had been watching the interaction, and you quickly stood up to greet him.

“Jim, you don't know how much I appreciate you for this. I almost had a heart attack when the school called me to say that Dick was missing” you told him as you shook his hand. 

“Don't worry, your boy was just taking a walk, a bit of a dangerous adventure, but he came out without a scratch” he reassured you while looking at the crestfallen boy sitting next to you, and he did not miss the way your hand trembled slightly “Gomez” the officer who had brought you to the door looked at his boss ready to receive his order “Why don't you take little Dick to get something to eat from the vending machine down the hall?” and his question didn't need an answer. Dick left with Officer Gomez without saying a word, as you watched his back walk away through the glass in the office door.

“Y/n, please, sit down” Jim asked as he approached one of the chairs on the guest side of his desk, sitting down across from you immediately after you did.

“I'm sorry, I just-” You tried to apologise for how upset you were, but the man stopped you with an understanding smile.

“Don't worry, y/n. I was close to an aneurysm the first time my Barbs ran away from school” he told you trying to calm you down, to which you giggled at the thought of the adorable red-haired little girl who was the only daughter of the Gordon family.

“They start younger and younger” you plead, with a mixture of amusement and concern looking at the older man.

“Well this is Gotham, our kids have to grow up faster than others” he explained to you, while he served a glass of water from the jug that he had on his desk “Your butler had the same reaction when I found your husband walking in the same place years ago, shortly after the death of Thomas and Martha” he remembered, offering you the glass, which you accepted with anguish.

“God, he already acts like Bruce, and he hasn't even been with us for two weeks” you lamented, to which Jim couldn't help but chuckle a bit at your concern.

“Welcome to parenthood, your heart gets used to it sooner or later” he comforted you, running his hand down your back reassuringly.

Things got worse before they got better. Dick started running away not only from school, but from home, and he started yelling at you at unexpected times. There was no way for you to figure out what was making him mad because it was different what you did or didn't do every time he started his tantrum.

That was the case for more than two months after the first incident. Alfred told you that Bruce had been the same for a full year after his parents died. Bruce told you it wasn't your fault, despite what the kid was yelling at YOU all the time. But you could do more than feel guilty. You didn't want to fix things with your magic. When you retired you decided that your life could not be what you did with your power, it was more than just your power, and it was time to start accepting it, enjoying it. But you don't know how to help him without that power, either, at least not in a very deep way. So you did the only thing you could think of, you kept offering your hand to little Dickie, even though half the time he seemed to want to bite his hand.

It all came to a head one afternoon after you brought a very angry Dick to Wayne Manor from school. Gotham Academy had called you to talk after he tried to escape again. They informed you that maybe it was time for you and Bruce to look for another school for the boy, since his behaviour was not appropriate for the establishment.

“Dick, we need to talk” you called out to the boy, seeing him run towards the stairs as soon as you closed the front door. Alfred was shopping for dinner and Bruce was at League HQ, so you were the only one to argue with the kid that day “Dick Grayson, come back here, we're going to have a talk about this sooner or later” you said, going after the boy with a calm step, but Dick heard you coming and ran to his room at the moment he made the second floor of the house, slamming the door shut before you managed to finish climbing the stairs.

You sighed heavily as you stopped at the sound of the door slamming. You wanted desperately to go into the room and demand that the boy tell you what was bothering him so much, you wanted desperately to fix whatever was bothering him so much. But you knew you couldn't really fix the source of his problems, even if you had the magical potential to do so. You learned long ago that death is something even you must let take its course, for the sake of the very existence of the whole. You also didn't want to enter the boy's mind with magic, it wouldn't be fair to him to do that, so your options were limited at the end of the day. So you stood there, helpless.

You were having a hard time, not because you didn't want the task of taking care of Dick, but because it was a mixture of situations that seemed unfair to you. First the poor boy lost his parents together in front of his eyes, and he did so after the death of the Scarlet Witch, after you decided it was better to start a life without the chaos magic that characterised you. If the boy had crossed your path a couple of years earlier, neither Mary nor John had fallen to their deaths that day, you would have stopped it right there in that tent of the circus without much thought. But it hadn't been.

Although, you didn't need to read his mind to know one thing: Dick hated you. Totally and intensely. He had made it clear to you on more than one occasion.

And yes, he did. Dick hated everything about you. He hated the way you made his room look like the ideal in his mind of what he wanted. How you personally prepared his lunches for school. How you wore it and personally attracted you everywhere. How you smile with affection, how you patiently accept every insult and scream. I also hated how you tried so hard that he wouldn't notice that Bruce wasn't there much. Or how you always found him when he got lost in the halls. Also, when you brought him cookies and hot chocolate when he couldn't sleep, even though sugar didn't really help him sleep at all. He only made him happy for a while.

Why couldn't you be like the wicked stepmothers of the stories? 

It would be easier for him.

He hated the way you loved him, because it made him want his mom back, and it made him remember that she was gone, it made him want to accept you and Bruce as his family too. But he didn't need a new family. He necessitated his family, his parents, and his circus friends. He wanted his life back.

He hated you. He hated you. He hated you.

Dick curled up on the bed, with the blankets you personally picked out with him, which were Superman, and hid his head on the pillow. There he remained. At eleven years old, Dick had never been the type to be capricious or suspicious. His parents had always taken pride in saying that his son was very well-behaved and fit in wherever they went with the show. But now he just wanted to hate and never stop doing it, he didn't want anything else because the world was cruel, and it didn't deserve more than his hate. You didn't deserve more than that for being so good that it made him want to feel like before, and it pulled his mind to a better place every time you caressed his hair lovingly and made him feel at home.

That night, after eating the sandwich that Alfred had kindly given him when he refused to come down for dinner, he went to sleep without expecting you to come and say good night, as you had done since he arrived at the mansion. Usually, he didn't go to sleep easily, but his desire to avoid you overcame the fear of his nightmares, so he quickly fell asleep.

You arrived after he began to snore softly, already sunk in sleep. You entered, opening the door as quietly as possible, to see him spread out on his bed, with his pyjamas on, and the sheets almost falling off the bed due to his movements. Likewise, you couldn't help but feel the tenderness warm your heart, thinking to yourself that this should be a good step on the right path, because the boy hadn't slept well since he arrived at the mansion and since before, according to the reports of the social worker. So that he was sleeping at that time was good. You took victory silently and closed the door to the room, using the surface of your powers to close the curtains that let the moonlight into the room before walking away. 

You went down to the cave after that, where Bruce was getting ready to go out for the night.

“How is he?” he asked while putting on his gloves, as soon as he heard you walking out of the elevator.

“He's asleep” you told him with a big smile, happy for the small victory.

“Really?” Bruce asked, pleasantly surprised.

“Yes” you answer, reaching her side, unable to contain the smile of happiness, for that reason “I know it's not much considering what happened today-” you started, but your husband stopped you by placing his hands on your cheeks affectionately.

“It's a good thing” he assured you, smiling at you, and you kissed his lips lightly “We still need to talk to him tomorrow though” Bruce said, gently breaking your bubble, to which you sighed.

“If it makes you feel any better, Mistress y/n” Alfred began from the chair in front of the batcomputer “I could make you a list of the number of private schools Master Bruce was expelled from before he finally calmed down” he offered to what Bruce rolled his eyes in amusement “It's including Gotham Academy, of course” he clarified with amusement.

The night passed as normally as it could. But around one in the morning you went upstairs to check on Dick, as you always did at night when you stayed in the cave. It was the third time you'd checked, and he'd been fine the first two times, having started snoring louder on each visit.

So you expected to hear the boy snoring when you reached the hallway of his room, instead, you were met with crying. You stopped in place for a moment, because it was the first time you had heard Dick cry since he had arrived at the mansion.

“Mama” the boy cried, half awake and half asleep, “Mama” kept calling between sobs that shook her little body violently.

The most instinctive part of you walked quickly towards the door with a soft step, but the same logic made you stop at the door before even touching the handle, apart from that he told you that the boy was calling for his mom, for Mary. Not for you, he didn't want you. And for a moment you decided that you would not go in, and we let him cry all he needed, and tomorrow you would try to get him to talk about it. It might be a good time to suggest therapy. Yes, that was the best option and the best way to handle the situation.

“Mom, mom” you heard. Now fully awake, Dick continued to sob with his broken heart, and he broke yours with the sound of his cracking voice. So the institute won.

You walked into the room ready to be yelled at almost immediately. But you did it anyway, sure-footed and ready to do whatever it took to make your precious boy stop suffering once and for all. You knew that that would never leave him, but you would still try.

“Dickie, baby” you said as you approached the bed, to sit on the edge of the mattress next to him, running a hand over his back as he continued to cry and sobbed loudly “My joy, it's okay, you're-” and then the force of the child colliding with your chest stopped you.

In the time Dick had been there, he had never allowed you or Bruce or Alfred to get any closer than to hold his hand or stroke his hair. So when the boy threw himself at you crying and hugging your waist as if his life depended on it, he surprised you. He was hugging you as if he was afraid that you would disappear from one second to the next (theoretically you could do that, it was part of your powers, but that wasn't what the boy was afraid of). He sobbed into your chest as his knuckles turned white from clinging to you.

“It's okay, my joy” you comforted him, hugging him back and kissing his hair “Everything will be alright” you promised him, not quite sure what else to say to make him feel better and hugging him tighter to match his strength, so he would understand that you won't be leaving soon

“I want my mum” the boy sobbed, not with an internal intention to hurt you, but as if asking you to do something. You were an adult, you could fix anything, that's what adults do, and the ten-year-old was practically begging you desperately for a solution as he felt.

“Oh, I know, Dickie. I know” you said hugging him tighter “I'm so sorry, baby” you apologised, feeling bad for having no more than words to handle the situation, knowing that nothing will bring that child back to his parents, no matter how much you want to make it happen for him.

You would do anything for that boy. You would destroy yourself, and you would build yourself up again. Not only that, but you would empty out entire universes and kill God himself if necessary. But for now, you just held him while he cried, while he called out to a mother who lay twenty feet under. You knew, at that moment, that there would never be anything you wouldn't do for that boy. And Dick decided that night that maybe you weren't so bad.

Dick Grayson couldn't believe he was standing in the Batcave. He also couldn't believe his adoptive father was Batman. Now he understood why he was always missing for so long, it wasn't that Bruce was ignoring him, it was that he was down there, being a hero for Gotham City. His mind was racing as he walked around the place asking your husband questions and inspecting every nook, artefact, and blemish he found in the place. You and Bruce watched him from a distance, grinning like fools at the uncontrollable excitement of the boy who had long felt like he was your own.

“This is AMAZING” Dick would say whenever something particularly struck him, which means he said it every few seconds.

“See, he told you he would be excited” you told your husband while you took his hand, he smiled at you and brought your clasped hands to his lips to kiss your knuckles affectionately. A silent way of telling you: You were right, love.

“WOW” exclaimed the boy, he was now standing on the platform where the different suits that your husband had used as Batman are displayed “With all due respect, Bruce, but it's good that you left behind the combination of purple and yellow, it was too much” the boy scoffed, pointing at the first suit on display behind him.

“It was the eighties” your husband defended himself with a grimace, rolling his eyes at how similar the comment was to the one you had made the first time you set foot in the cave several years ago. You just laughed as you looked at him, happily remembering that moment.

“Purple looks amazing on you, my love” you assured him, caressing his cheek with your free hand. “Very intimidating” you said, to which both you and Dick chuckled, while Bruce continued to regret his fashion decisions.

“I tried to talk him out of it, Master Dick” Alfred commented, joining the bandwagon of teasing Bruce about his old fashion decisions. “But he insisted,” he shrugged gracefully.

“Okay, I'm going to throw him out of my cave if you don't leave my purple suit alone” Bruce complained, to which you and Dick shared an amused look before the boy returned his attention to the suits on display. Alfred smiled as he watched you kiss your husband in compensation, earning me a goofy smile from him, the one the butler had seen a lot since you two got married.

“HOLY SHIT” Dick suddenly exclaimed, to which you and Bruce turned to look at him wearing it, your husband ready to spring into action at your son's exclamation “You've got the Scarlet Witch suit here!!” the boy exclaimed excitedly, looking at your husband in disbelief before running to stand in front of the glass where your old suit is on display. Well, the word suit was an understatement, because it was a red bodysuit, with a belt, the cape, and high boots. An outfit that was not the best choice for fighting, but you never question it too much, because you were always comfortable in yourself and in that outfit, too.

Bruce and you shared a look. It was time to drop the second bomb on the boy. Now you were the one worried about her reaction.

“How did you get it?” Dick asked excitedly, his nose glued to the glass, pawing it with his breath “I thought the Justice League couldn't get her body back from the Dimension of the Damned after she closed the portal to save us” he said, thinking aloud, while analysing the garment.

Up close, he could see the details of the fabric, the way the cloak had a texture and wasn't smooth as it seemed watching it from the television. It was as if magic was embedded in the fabric, and it moved even when she was still on the mannequin. The boy was fascinated, definitely marking this as the best day of his life.

“Well that's true. The League was unable to recover her body after she closed the portal” explained Bruce, as he hugged your waist, pressing his fingers against you at the memory of those events that still haunt him “But the suit is here for its protection, nothing more, it still belongs to its owner” Bruce finished, letting the boy think a little about his words.

“Wait,” Dick said, frowning and turning away from the video, to walk to the railing of the platform. And how do you have it, if she never left the Dimension of the Damned?” the boy frowned, thinking hard that how could it be that this was the original costume.

“It's more like early retirement than death” Dick jumped in place when you appeared next to him, speaking sweetly to him “But yes, the Scarlet Witch never made it out of the Dimension of the Damned” you explained to him, while you crouch in front of him, the boy turned to face you still confused by what he was saying “Dick, do you remember that we told you that we had to tell you a couple of things?” you asked him and the boy quickly nodded “Well first we wanted to tell you that Bruce is Batman, as you already deduced” you pointed to your husband on the lowest platform “And the other one is that I'm-” Before you could say more, Dick squealed with excitement again.

“YOU ARE THE SCARLET WITCH, HOLY FUCK!!” the boy yelled with his eyes as wide as his eyelids would allow.

“Language, Master Dick” Alfred scolded absently from below.

“OH-MY-GOD” The boy yelled again, looking at me as if you were hanging the stars from the sky, throwing himself on you, hugging you with his arms around your neck “I knew you weren't dead, I argued every day with my friends about this, it didn't make sense for YOU to die just like that, no amount of spawn could kill the Scarlet Witch, it's absurd-” The boy began to ramble as you picked him up in your arms, he hug your hips with his legs intuitively, and you walked down with him in your arms. Smiling softly at the boy's excitement, it was Bruce's turn to give you the Told you so look “This is the BEST day of my life” Dick finished his ramblings as you pulled up next to Bruce, with him still sitting on your hip, and proceeded to grab your husband's neck and hug you both tight. The pull made your husband laugh at the boy's sudden outburst. “My parents are the coolest people on the planet next to Superman, this is the best” the boy declared proudly, ignoring the surprised looks you and Bruce shared immediately after that.

It was the first time his parents had called you, and Dick didn't even think about it much longer, it came out of him so naturally that you two didn't say anything else either. You were mom after that and Bruce was dad, as if the boy had forgotten how to say his name from one moment to the next. And he did it with the greatest happiness in the world.

That night, after Bruce went out on patrol, and you dragged a still very excited Dick to bed, as you tucked him into bed, tucking the covers over him, your son's face suddenly scrunched up at a particular thought.

“What's up, Dikie?” you asked, as you ran your hand over her forehead, concerned at the sudden change in expression.

“Weren't Batman and the Scarlet Witch supposed to hate each other?” he asked you confused, looking down with his head tilted from his pillow.

You laughed, relieved and amused by the question.

“That, my boy, is a story for another day”

And that was it.

TAGLIST: If someone wants to be added or removed from this list, they can request it, is OPEN.

@some-lovely-day @simonsbluee @yuki-chan23 @miyakana @myst3batz @otchae @d3m0n8ch1ld @marsenbie @mynameisnotlaura @andieperrie18 @randomboostsofmotivation @totallynotme420 @igotmessymind @amarawayne @calsjack

[queenie-ofthe-void]

Tiger Club (part 1)

Steddie || ~2.1k words || rating: M || tags: single-dad steve harrington, teacher eddie munson, teacher chrissy cunningham, eddie and chrissy are best friends, steve harrington is dustin and max's dad, dustin and max are twins, meet cute, humor and fluff

~~~

Eddie’s not usually a teacher to bitch about his job. He loves getting his little kiddos excited about reading and story-telling, and surprisingly, teaching is just as fulfilling as he’d hoped it’d be.

This year, however, he drew the proverbial short straw for extracurricular activities. When he was asked to coach soccer he supposes he could’ve politely declined instead of gagging in the middle of the teacher’s meeting, embarrassing the new Principal and causing the history teacher to actually vomit. Empathetic vomiting– Eddie’s a teacher and he’s still learning something new every day.

Does he really seem like the kind of guy who coaches sports? No, of course not. He’ll leave that to the gorgeous and talented math teacher Ms. Cunningham, and the unbearable meathead Phys. Ed. teacher Mr. Carver, who won’t stop drooling over her like a jock peacocking for the head cheerleader. A relatively adept assessment since Chrissy coaches the Little Tumblers gymnastics team and Jason coaches Tiger Cubs basketball.

Regardless, because of Eddie’s little stunt, he’s been relegated to alternating his after school hours between Tiger Club, and detention. The two most boring extracurriculars for kiddos and teachers alike. All he does is wait for parents to pick their kids up, and they’re either too busy demanding to know why they’re child is in detention, or screaming for them to get in the car, to stop and say well hello Mr. Munson, thank you for watching little Joanie today. The small consolation to his predicament is he alternates each week with Ms. Cunningham.

When Chrissy started at Hawkins Middle last fall, Eddie knew exactly what to expect: an ex-high school jock turned girl’s sportsball coach, hoping to relive the glory days. Someone who’d be cocky, self-righteous, and bitchy.

To his surprise, she turned out to be quiet and withdrawn, separating herself from the rest of the staff. He’d thought she’d warm up soon enough, but when she still hadn’t made any friends by winter break, Eddie decided to do something about it.

He adopted her as one of his sheep– a practice of gathering misfits he’s continued into adulthood. She looked skeptical when he first invited her out for happy hour, wary after weeks of Jason’s obnoxious flirting. 

Two margaritas later, he’d learned Chrissy had come out to her family who’d then promptly disowned her for her sinful ways. She moved out, got her degree, and took the first job offered to her at Hawkins Middle.

Eddie couldn’t be more grateful for her presence in his life. Chrissy is his other half and she seems to feel the same. She’s not cocky or arrogant, although she’s definitely bitchy, but in a way which perfectly matches him. Chris knows how to take him down a peg, and he knows how to lift her up. They balance each other inside and out.

The other staff, however, see them as an odd pair solely because of their severely opposing aesthetics. Where Eddie’s etched in hard edges and dark colors, donning leather jackets and a myriad of old concert t-shirts, Chrissy flows in soft lines and pastels, garnered in sundresses and cardigans with the occasional jersey for game days. 

Many of the staff also love to gossip about a possible secret relationship between the pair– opposites attract and all of that nonsense– which actually works well for them. Better for everyone to think they’re sleeping together rather than the rural people of Indiana discovering queers working around their young, impressionable children. 

From their first happy hour, they’d started the Friday tradition of swiping dating apps and bitching about their love lives over margaritas and nachos. It’s one of the best parts of Eddie’s week.

And it’s Friday, which means they should be huddled in their corner booth right now, one shot of tequila each under their belts. But here he is, standing outside next to the jungle gym at 4pm waiting for the twins to be picked up by their dad. 

Go figure the guy’s late. Again. 

According to Chrissy, this guy Steve has been late every day this week– and it’s only the first week of school. He’s probably one of those parents who thinks teachers work to serve them, like they don’t have their own lives outside of school. It’s Friday for shit’s sake, he’s hungry and he needs a smoke.

“Chris, this is ridiculous. Detention ends at 3:30, same as Tiger Club. Are we just going to keep letting this guy get away with this?” Eddie’s fingers twitch towards the vape in his back pocket. Obviously he doesn’t smoke in front of the kids, but they’re supposed to be gone by now.

“Eddie, just relax, okay? He’s a nice guy, and it sounds like he’s a single dad with a chaotic job. Try to cut him some slack.” She gives him a reassuring smile, knocking her elbow into his side. “Don’t worry we’ll get some salsa in you and you’ll be good as new,” she snarks.

He shoots her a seething glare but she just smiles at him and smoothes out her sundress against the summer breeze. As Eddie crafts the perfect retort– it was going to be a really good one too– a maroon BMW SUV pulls up to the curb.

Fucking finally, Eddie thinks. If Chris isn’t going to say anything to this guy about his chronic tardiness, then he will.

They both start towards the car when a tall woman with a dark blonde bob and a pale freckled face steps out of the driver’s seat. She’s wearing a cropped Hozier t-shirt and oversized cotton overalls covered in pins. Eddie notices a small white, pink, and orange flag next to a pin of a cartoon ghost with boobs that just says “boooooobies”. He likes her already.

Eddie turns to ask Chrissy who this mystery woman is, but it seems she’s also clocked the pins.

“You’re not Steve,” Chrissy shouts. She winces as the woman arches her brow at the abrupt outburst. “I just mean that Steve has been here every day, and that’s his car, but you’re not Steve. I mean, obviously you’re not Steve, you’re you. You know you’re not Steve, you don’t need me to tell you that.”

The following silence is solid and impenetrable. Eddie’s never seen Chrissy this flustered before. Her bambi eyes shine wide and bright, paired with a hot pink flush climbing up to her ears. She’s fiddling with the buttons on her lavender cardigan and it seems like she can’t decide if she should stare directly at the woman in front of her, or very intensely in absolutely any other direction.

Not-Steve’s growing smile and matching blush tells him maybe he’s not the only one who’s noticed Chrissy’s little crush.

Interesting.

Just as Eddie steps in to save his friend from mortal anguish, he’s interrupted by high-pitched screeches from the playground.

“Auntie Robbie,” the twins cry in unison. It’d be creepy if they weren’t so goddamned adorable. 

“My munchkins!” The kids crash into her, the three of them falling to the ground in a heap of limbs. “Oof okay let’s make sure you don’t take me out before I can get you twerps home.”

He only knows of the twins from what Chrissy has told him this week, since she gets to see all of the incoming sixth graders, whereas Eddie teaches seventh and eighth grade. Working with younger kids is great, don’t get him wrong, but the available reading material for his literature units only gets better with age.

The curly-haired boy scrambles up to collect his Minecraft hat from where it’d fallen off in the scuffle. He’s small, hyperactive as all hell, and missing his front teeth, which Eddie can only tell because of the kid’s unbridled megawatt smile. 

While the boy raves about his school day, the young red headed girl rolls her eyes at his antics, but it’s easy to spot the fondness underneath. Her two copper braids are adorned with small butterfly clips, matching the fake butterfly tattoos on her left wrist. In contrast to her more girlish accessories, she’s wearing a Hawkin’s Hospital softball team shirt which has to be a men’s medium, at least. It’s been tucked into her hot pink shorts, but it drowns her nonetheless.

In short, they’re both absolutely adorable.

When Eddie turns his attention from the kids, Chrissy’s finishing gently explaining the pick up times. Thank God.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Robin sheepishly replies. “His shifts have been really hectic this week and he’s on call today so–”

“Wait,” the girl interrupts. “Does that mean he won’t be home for dinner?” She moves to stand away from the mess of tangled limbs, scowling to hide the obvious hurt in her eyes.

“Max, honestly I’m not sure. I know he’s trying really hard to change his shifts, so hopefully it won’t be forever. Okay?” The reassurance seems to ease a bit of the tension in Max’s shoulders and scrunched brow. “But to make up for it, we’re going to have dinner at Aunt Nancy and Uncle Johnny’s house. I think the Sinclairs will be there too.”

“Ooooooo,” the boy teases, a shit-eating grin on his face, “Lucas will be there!”

“Shut up, Dustin!” Her fingers reach up to fidget with the small heart pendant on her necklace, while a light blush coasts across her freckles.

“Okay kiddos that’s enough, let’s get you out of here so your wonderfully patient teachers can actually start their weekend,” Robin replies, smiling while coaxing the twins towards the car. “I’m sorry again for being late, I swear it won’t happen again.”

“Totally cool, don’t worry about it,” Chrissy replies, a little too casually. The scarlet that invaded her chest and ears has receded to a dusting of pale pink on her cheeks. Robin’s smile grows wider as the two women stare at each other, cartoon hearts and flying babies in diapers wielding bow and arrows floating around their heads. 

Eddie clears his throat– loudly.

“OH, right,” Robin starts. She reaches up to fiddle one of her many pins as she finally notices Eddie’s presence. “I should let you get back to your, to your uhh, him, I mean.”

“Mr. Munson! He’s just Mr. Munson.” Eddie can actually see the wheels in her brain spinning faster than they can take off. It’s cute, he’s just trying not to feel a little slighted. “He’s my coworker. My friend, actually, he’s my best friend, Eddie.”

“Oh,” Robin says again, more relaxed this time. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m sorry if you’ve had to wait for Steve too.”

“No, I’ve been doing detention, but I’m sure I’ll get to meet him next week. I’ve heard a bit about him from Chrissy. Chaotic work schedule, single dad, twins,” Eddie says, gesturing to Max and Dustin talking amongst themselves.

“Yeah,” Robin absently draws the word out, eyes roaming over Eddie top to bottom.

Surprisingly, he feels himself blush. He’s not even into women but damn has it been awhile since he’s been checked out so blatantly. One of the many queer struggles he and Chris have bonded over is how difficult dating is in Bumfuck Nowhere, USA. So other than the occasional weekend fling in the city for Eddie, and one five-month long-distance relationship for Chrissy, neither have seen any recent action.

Sue him for getting flustered at being so obviously ogled, even if she is clearly into Chrissy. That just leaves Eddie wondering why he’s being visibly raked over by a random lesbian.

“So, Eddie, you said you’ll be here next week, yeah? When Steve’s here for pick up,” she asks, with innocent curiosity in her voice but a glint of something suspicious in her eyes.

“Umm yeah,” he says, very eloquently, “I did just say that.”

“Good! I’ll make sure Steve’s definitely here next week to grab the kids. He should meet all of his kids’ teachers.”

Before Eddie can correct her– he’s not their teacher– Robin shoots him a coy smile and a wink while turning to leave. The kids say their goodbyes, scrambling into the car, and as it pulls away from the curb Dustin rolls down his window to wave as they drive off.

Eddie stands in stunned silence next to his unusually quiet best friend, the two slowly processing the whirlwind of whatever the fuck just happened.

“Well,” Chrissy says, a shell-shocked smile on her face, “I guess we have something to talk about over margs.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, still reeling after the odd interaction, “I guess we do.”

~~~

Part 2

full story on ao3

thank you @carolperkinsexgirlfriend for all the beta work!!

[mysticheathenn]

Where is Your Current Path Leading You? (Short)

Hi there! Remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to go seek professional help.

Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.

PILE l: Sacred Destiny Oracle: Release, & Forgiveness, Transformation (bottom of the deck) Cards: Tower, 10 of Swords, 10 of Wands, 8 of Wands, The Fool, & Ace of Wands)

You're walking away from always carrying the burden of constantly surviving and not living life. You're tired of living life in survival mode. You want something better for yourself to the point you're willing to do any and everything to achieve it at this point. New beginnings are on the horizon especially those who are in the creative field (doesn't have to be something creative). You're moving away and releasing things that no longer align with what you want for your life. This could be people (including yourself), vices, jobs, or even living situations. I say including yourself because with the transformation card maybe some of you are tired of the new year same me and want something better than what you have been giving yourself. For example, maybe you want to lose weight, learn a new language, or pick up some new skills or hobbies. Some of you I see that you feel ashamed how you wasted so many years on either not getting your sh!t together or on people who don't deserve it but now no more. You have made your mind up that this year will not go by wasted on potential or excuses. Beautiful endings are happening and it's coming in fast. Be ready, don't be fearful of these changes. For the new to come in you need to get rid of the old. You've got this! I'm rooting for you! Keywords to where your current path is leading you are: Movement, Release, New

Pile ll: Sacred Destiny Oracle: Going Forward, & Standstill Cards: Knight of Cups (reversed), The Tower, 2 of Pentacles (reversed), King of Wands, 9 of Cups)

I'm hearing fulfillment is what your path is leading you on. A lot of you this is more of an emotional fulfillment than a financial one. For the ones that resonate with financial fulfillment, I see you're going to come out on top in being financially stable for once. You've been struggling for so long with your finances you started to lose hope, but soon things will even out. For those who resonate with emotional fulfillment maybe you have been feeling depressed, anxious, experiencing panic and anxiety attacks because life has been too hard and stressing you out. Things will come to a pause soon and life will feel more at ease to just take a breather and enjoy life a bit more. Some of you an old friend might reach out and see if you want to hang out with others you might decide to let yourself enjoy the simple pleasures in life without feeling guilty like you have to be busy or everything is going to fall apart. Keywords to where your current path is leading you are: Fulfillment, Balance, & Ease.

Pile lll: Sacred Destiny Oracle: Illumination, Forgiveness, & New Beginnings, Healing Chaos (bottom of deck) Cards: Ace of Cups, The Hermit, 6 of Swords (reversed), Knight of Wands, The World Cosmos (reversed).

There are two messages here for pile 3 but a large portion of you are coming out of hermit mode because you are beginning to feel safe after some people have hurt you whether it's a relationship, family, friends, or even a workplace. You've been doing some healing and maybe even shadow work to help ease some of your pain along with just staying to yourself and with that comes new friendships, relationships, and possibly even a new career. You're going to be looking at life with a brand-new lens. Of course, some of you may be hesitant when you decide to dip your toe outside your bubble but you're going to be met with people who match your energy and not deal with one-sided friendships and relationships. Keywords to where your current path is leading you are: Relationships (Romantic/Platonic) & Healing For others, I see your path is about showing you who your true friends and family are. There are some snakes in the grass and foxes in the hen house. I feel a moderate amount of you know exactly who this person is but you keep giving them the benefit of the doubt because wHy WoUlD ThEy HuRt YoU when you have done nothing but love them. Remember sometimes the way people treat you has nothing to do with you or how you treat them but more so with their lack of love for themselves. This group reminds me of my previous tarot reading titled "The Harsh Truth You Need to Know" If you haven't already I would definitely advise checking that one out. Keywords to where your current path is leading you are: Endings, Choices, & Deception

Pile lV: Sacred Destiny Oracle: Adventures, Voyage, & Trust, Openness (bottom of the deck) Cards: 10 of Cups, The Hierophant, 3 of Swords (reversed), 2 of Wands, 9 of Pentacles

Upon seeing the Hierophant card I heard the poem by Rober Frost The Road Not Taken. You're leaving behind worry, self-doubt, and people-pleasing and walking into a new light where you follow what you want to do and not what others want you to do. You're trusting that inner voice that keeps nagging you to do what you want to do because you're tired of living life by the rules of others. You're tired of playing it safe because you feel it hasn't gotten you anywhere but feeling a whole lot of lack in your life and you're meant to be abundant pile 3. Some of you want to be travel influencers and travel the world but maybe some of your parents or even friends keep using scare tactics on you by sending you articles of people dying or getting hurt abroad. Or maybe telling you making money by doing something that isn't a 9-5 or "traditional" isn't worth it nor substantial and you've had enough. You're finally ready to take that leap and "Go Your Own Way" by Fleetwood Mac. Just know when you take this leap it's not without a little bit of struggle, but I assure you with the 10 of cups you're going to feel happy and see that it was all worth it in the end. Keywords to where your current path is leading you are: Going Against the Grain, Happiness, &Belief

That's all I have for everyone. I hope you enjoyed this reading. Until next time, stay safe and blessed.