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katehuntington · 4 years ago

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Title: Ride With Me (part twenty two) Fandom: Supernatural Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: ±7650 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family. Summary part twenty two: Y/N is about to take the stage together with her horse Meadow, but stage fright is making it very difficult to bring the evening to a successful end. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: Opening scene: First Defeat - Noah Gundersen, Meadow’s freestyle: Stairway To Heaven, Immigrant Song, Whole Lotta Love - Led Zeppelin. Follow ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: Thank you @atc74, and @winchest09 for helping me. Also a special thanks to @jules-1999, who has offered me her knowledge about rodeo events like these, and @squirrelnotsam, who knows Arizona like the back of her hand.

Ride With Me Masterlist

Y/N dips the sponge foaming with leather soap in a small bucket of water, and softly moves it in circles over the gullet of Meadow’s cognac colored saddle. Making sure to get into the little curves and edges of the beautifully decorated piece of craftsmanship, she picks up an old toothbrush and gently sweeps the dirt out of the grooves; it’s one of the older tricks in the book.

The maintenance does a lot of things besides calm the mind. It keeps the material supple, stops it from tearing, therefore saddles and bridles last longer. The leather will be soft on the horse’s coat and prevent sores and irritation of the skin. Clean and shiny tack says a lot about a person. They are usually precise, provident, and have a keen eye for detail. Often perfectionists who leave nothing to chance. Y/N is such a person.

Dean watches her, adoration on his features. She hasn’t spotted him yet, too focused on the chore. His hands are buried in the front pockets of his jeans while he leans against the door of the makeshift tack room, where she’s working in silence. He notices how loose hairs have escaped her french braid, how she bites her lip while concentrating. He notices the black smear on her cheek, her hands grimy from the mixture of soap and dirt coming from the saddle. He notices all those little things, and all else he loves about her.

There might be a soft smile on his lips, but his eyes give away how much his heart is hurting. He hasn’t been able to ban the haunting words from his thoughts, nor the realization that came with it; no matter how much time he puts between the past and present, he can’t outrun those dark days. The troubled cowboy wishes he could tell her, but he doesn’t want to drag his girl into this. She would pity him, be disgusted. She would run as far away as she could, and he wouldn’t even blame her if she does just that. The fact that he is unable to be truthful, has him doubt everything they have accomplished. How can he ask her to trust him, when he can’t be honest with her? When he doesn’t even trust himself?

Y/N rises from the small stool to get a cloth from her tack box in order to polish the saddle, when she notices a figure from the corner of her eye. For a second she startles, but then realizes it’s her boyfriend. “How long have you been standing there?” she chuckles. “For a little while,” he admits, the corner of his mouth pulling into a slightly bigger smile. “Didn’t mean to creep you out.” “Don’t worry, you didn’t. Fergus MacLeod on the other hand…” Y/N comments, squirting some shine cream on the cloth.

Before she returns to her stool again to finish the dirty job, Dean steps closer and takes her hand. Desperate for her to ground him, he lets his fingers trace her stained knuckles, taking the cleaning product from her and putting it aside. He focuses on their hold and keeps quiet, being more tentative than conversational. “Dean?” Her voice is laced with confusion and worry, and when he looks up, he sees that her eyes match the warm sound. Willing to do anything to take those concerns away, he cups her face and gently pulls Y/N closer. His lips catch hers, sweetly at first. Dean cherishes the moment when she melts into his touch, deepening the kiss. It doesn’t unsettle him when she unwinds her fingers from his, because he can feel his cowboy hat leave his head, those same fingers now running through his short hair.

Dean takes his time, eyes closed and his long lashes brushing against her cheek. He draws her in, moving his hand up her side as if he’s afraid she might slip away at any moment. There’s a hint of distress in the way he is kissing her, even though she can tell he is trying to hide it. Knowing that now is not the time to question his reasoning, she gives him what he needs so hopelessly. After a long, intimate minute, in the shelter of the small tack room, Dean parts from her. Y/N hopes to see a smile, but his eyes remain closed as he presses his forehead against hers.

“What’s going on?” she encourages, gently. “Nothin’. I’m alright,” he claims, but when she raises her eyebrows at him knowingly, he gives her an explanation, even though it’s not the whole truth. “Fergus MacLeod got under my skin with the way he spoke to you, is all.” “Oh, you mean the pet names?” She scoffs, shaking her head at the memory. “I wouldn’t read into it. He’s an Englishman; they address women like that.” “Still…” Dean rubs the pad of his thumb over her cheek, wiping away the grease. He is beginning to find his footing again. “I’m the only one who gets to call you that.” “And you think I’m the jealous one,” Y/N jokes. “You never call me ‘darling’ or ‘love’ anyway.” He grins at her mockery, especially when she overdoes the accent. His eyes are still sincere as ever. “Because you’re my Yankee,” he says softly.

Her smile becomes brighter, her nickname rolling from his tongue usually having that effect. And for just a second, Dean forgets about all the worry in the world. He kisses her once more, short and sweet this time, daring to take a hold of her gaze now that his mask fits again. “You stood your ground when that stuck up made that offer on Meadow,” he compliments. “You basically told him to go fuck himself. That was pretty badass.”

Shyly, Y/N shrugs. To her it didn’t cost her an ounce of bravery or willpower. She has gotten offers on her horse before, although never one this high. But Fergus could offer a billion, there is no way in hell she will ever let Meadow go. “She’s priceless, Dean,” the cowgirl explains, simply. “I wouldn’t trade her for the world.” “I know,” her boyfriend acknowledges. “All I’m saying is that many would have considered it. The fact that it’s not even an option for you, just shows how much she means to you.” He pauses, admiring the strong minded woman before him. “She’s your soul horse.” “My what?” Y/N recalls, curiously.

Dean chuckles, realizing that it’s not a widely known term. It was Ellen who told him about the special bond between human and horse, when he was younger. It became something that always stuck with him, words he never forgot. “Every equestrian comes across that one horse in their life. The one that stands out from all the others, that captures you, takes up a huge space in here.” He taps two fingers on his chest, right where his heart is. “The one you have this unbreakable bond with, who you trust and trusts you. The one you will never forget,” he explains. “That’s your soul horse.”

Y/N begins to glow, because every word he spoke sounds familiar. Dean is right; Meadow is her soul horse. “I like that,” she says, thinking about his words for a second.

Content, she moves past Dean to pick up the polish, in order for her to return to the task she needs to finish. “What else did the snobby Brit have to say?” she wonders, sitting back down on her stool, beginning to rub the cream onto the horn and the pommel of the saddle. “He bought Jovi and Ringo, actually,” the cowboy elaborates, turning to the side to check out the perfectly clean bridle hanging from the tack box door. He’s giving himself something to focus on, feeling the soft leather under his fingers. “Did he! That’s great, right?” she checks, noticing that her boyfriend isn’t exactly thrilled about the matter. Dean glances at her, forcing a smile. “Yeah, the money is certainly welcome.” “I bet Bobby is pleased,” Y/N assumes, wiping down the saddle one last time before she puts the cover back on. “Did he say anything about our dance last night?” “He didn’t. I think he’s lettin’ it slide.” Dean shrugs. “He’s not someone to discuss this kinda stuff anyway, so I’m guessin’ no word about it is good.” Y/N is willing to accept his reasoning. “Well, alright. If you’re sure it won’t get you into trouble.” “I doubt it, and even if he’d give me a hard time, it’s worth the lecture.” Dean chuckles, glancing down at his boots. “Fergus made another business proposition, too.” The cowgirl gets up and lifts the heavy saddle from its stand, carrying it to the tack box and storing it away. “What’s that?” “He wants me to train one of his horses,” he tells her. Her eyes grow wide as she shuts the door. “A stallion? Dean, that’s huge!” The wrangler chuckles at her enthusiasm. “It’s just the one.”

“Do you realize that this could be the start of something very rewarding? He owns stables full of licensed stallions. It might be a great stepping stone. I mean, look at Jovi and Ringo; they were sold from under you before you could really shine with them,” Y/N brings to mind. “Riding a talented horse for an owner who has no desire to sell because of the money already coming in with stud fees, is really good for you. This could become your big break.”

Dean hasn’t even looked at it that way, but he guesses it’s why his girlfriend is so good in her field. She always thinks five steps ahead, seeing opportunities where another person would just see a lot of work. He remains realistic, though, not wanting to celebrate too quickly. “Well, apparently Cain is a handful, so we’ll see how it goes.” “Wait… Cain?” She was already staring at him in astonishment, but now her jaw almost drops to the floor. “As in the Quarter sired by Dual Ray. The one that went for 1.2 million at the Derby auction?! Shut up!”

“Someone watched the news.” Dean grins, the sight of her girlfriend so perplexed being quite amusing. “But, yeah. He’s arriving at the ranch next week. Depending on how bad his behavioral problems are, he’s staying or leaving. I have a feeling MacLeod isn’t telling the whole story.” “Well, even if Cain’s issues are worse than Fergus let on--” She steps closer, slipping her arms around his neck. “- if anyone can fix him, it’s you.”

The confidence she has in him astonishes the cowboy. He doesn’t deserve it, her never ending support, her faith. Even now, all he’s doing is bullshitting his way through this exchange. He hopes to God Y/N doesn’t pick up on his insecurities, because maybe if she doesn’t, they can stay in this bubble for a little while longer.

Another kiss is pressed on his lips and for just that moment, Dean forgets about the demons that so often torment his mind. Unable to resist her even if he tries, the cowboy reels her in. He can sense his Yankee smile against his mouth and he can’t help to copy her expression. When he can feel her weaken in his hold, however, it is quickly replaced with a look of concern. “You okay?” he asks apprehensively, his grip on her firmer to make sure she doesn’t go down, but thankfully she steadies. “Yeah, just a little lightheaded.” Y/N takes a breath. “I’m fine.” “Did you eat today?” Dean requires, both stern and worried. “No,” she admits. “I can’t eat before a competition. Nerves and all.” “Are you kiddin’ me? You’re not up until 8 PM!” he returns, not having any of it. “Yankee, You gotta eat. I’ll buy you somethin’.” “I wouldn’t be able to take even one bite, Dean. Don’t bother. I’ll have an energy drink before I get on Meadow.” “Oh, hell no. You can’t do your run while low on fuel,” her boyfriend decides, carefully letting her go when he’s sure she has found her balance again. “How about yoghurt? Or some fruit? Did that really just come out of my mouth?” Y/N snorts when she notices the double take at his own suggestions, his nose wrinkling in revulsion, as if he just said something vile and doesn’t even know himself anymore. “Would a smoothie work? I saw a stand by the arena,” Dean offers. She shrugs, appreciating his efforts and not wanting to deny him. “I could try.” “Alright.” He leaves a quick kiss on her mouth and picks up his hat, before he intends to leave the tack room. In the doorway he turns around, his body language showing confusion, yet his eyes sparkle. “I never in my life thought I was gonna say this, but I’m gonna buy a smoothie,” he announces, before shooting her a wink and disappearing. Y/N laughs now, shaking her head at his comical ways. Bless him, at least he’s trying.

7.00 PM. Y/N is back in the tack room where she spent most of her morning cleaning her gear. When there was absolutely nothing left to polish, every bit of brass on her saddle and bridle shining so bright it could quite possibly blind the judges once in the arena, she tried to distract herself another way. She did manage to consume the smoothie her boyfriend brought her, though, much to his delight. It helped, because the dizziness has passed, but a stress headache remains. She sat down for lunch with Benny, Jo and Dean, although she didn’t eat anything. Conversation moved past her like the Arizona autumn breeze that’s blowing across the show grounds.

Afterwards, she assisted Dean with his last ride of the day, this time in the ‘working cow horse’ class, which is a fun combination between reining and managing cattle. After feeding the horses and providing them with water, the crew went to the arena to watch some runs. It only triggered restlessness in her heart that seemed impossible to calm, and it didn’t take long before she returned to the stable. She spent some time with Meadow, her dance partner tonight, simply sitting in the corner of her box, watching the beautiful animal chew on her hay, completely at ease with her owner’s presence.

Now, it’s time to prepare herself. Meadow is already tacked up, waiting in her stall until Y/N is ready, one hind hoof resting on its toe, preserving energy. It’s like the animal knows, since she normally is quite impatient, but right before a competition, she prefers to nap on her feet. It’s a huge contrast to her human, who has trouble controlling her anxiety. The smoothie she had earlier is bubbling inside Y/N, her stomach unsettled. Trying to calm herself by making sure that everything is perfect, she goes through the familiar checklist in her head while the soundtrack of her freestyle plays on her phone.

Dean helped her work out the new routine, thankfully. After setting the bar way too high in her first draft, almost making herself cry when she realized just how impossible it was, he suggested more simple lines, but combinations of the patterns. This is supposed to kick up the degree of difficulty without the floorplan being a tangled mess, and highlights Meadow’s strengths. What she had to figure out next, was what kind of music she wanted to ride to.

Her boyfriend contacted Ash, who was more than willing to edit the tunes for the intern. When she offered Dean the idea, she knew it was a hit when she saw his eyes twinkle. They took the request to the former ranch hand, who went to work and knocked it out of the park. Honestly, a part of Y/N cannot wait to ride her new freestyle, but she’s also downright petrified. What if she screws up? What if she forgets her routine? What if she doesn’t nail it, with Congress only two weeks away? What if she fails?

Everything is ready, all she needs to do is change into her show outfit. Y/N strips down, switching her blue jeans and plaid shirt for black. The back of her button up is decorated with golden studs in the shape of a guitar, and so are the cuffs and shoulders. During a freestyle the rider is allowed to ‘dress up’ and add elements in the arena, make a show of it. Although she’s not a fan of the whole circus act, and much rather prefers to let her performance do the talking and convincing, she wasn’t resenting the idea Ash offered when they listened to the soundtrack. Ellen helped her sow on the miniature pyramid-shaped beads, and the end result is better than Y/N could have hoped for.

The focused competitor slips into her onyx chaps which she just took out, and laces the leather strap through the belt loop of her jeans. She then continues to unpack her cowboy boots, which are the same color as Meadow’s fiery brown tack, shining just as bright. Her brass spurs follow, the rowel jingling when she turns to take a round box from the top, unzipping the lid. The beautiful Milano hat inside has her smile down on the crafted head piece; it was a Christmas gift from her parents. One she received right before her first show with the Quarter mare, the horse who gives her so much more than she could ever hope for. She picks it up by the crown and places it on her smooth hair which Jo braided earlier, the action raising a sense of pride in her chest. The hat makes the outfit, but it comes along with so much more. It gives back some of the confidence her insecurities took away. She’s a cowgirl, in heart and soul.

Last but not least, she takes an object from the same container that safeguarded the Milano. Reminiscing, Y/N draws her thumb over the gold plated metal, feeling the edges of the letters and symbols under her fingertip; it’s her State Championship belt buckle. She closes her eyes, the memories of that epic run flooding her thoughts welcomingly. The stadium spotlights, the roaring crowd, her name in bright letters on the scoreboard. And then that indescribable feeling of horse and rider becoming one, the thrill of coming down that centerline and just knowing that this was going to be their moment, the ride of their lives. She will be in seventh heaven if she manages to get even remotely close to the pinnacle they reached that day.

Footsteps draw her back to reality, the dry ground crunching under heavy boots in the alleyway between the stables. Y/N doesn’t question who it is, Dean promised to help her with the warmup, and since she has stated in her very detailed schedule that she is going to get on her horse ten minutes from now, she is expecting his arrival. Turning around, she meets his astonished gaze in the doorway, his jaw slightly ajar. “Do you think I’d be showing off if I wear this?” she wonders, offering him a look at the coveted buckle.

But Dean only has eyes for a different prize. He needs a moment to recover from the sight of his girlfriend. She’s drop dead gorgeous after a morning muck out, with hay in her messy locks and dust sticking to her damp skin. But now, dressed in her black show outfit, her hair braided and her make-up bringing out the color of her eyes even more, he can’t help but stammer. He chuckles warmly, a blush on his cheeks. “You look - you look amazing.”

His reaction draws a smile on her lips, but she’s too anxious to really appreciate the compliment. There is a time schedule to be considered after all. “My State Champion buckle, or a simple one?” she asks him again, not daring to make the call herself. Dean takes the shiny object, tilting it to admire the award. ‘AQHA State Champion - Maine, 2008’ it says, the inscription curved around a horse’s head, edged in silver and gold. “Wear it,” he decides. “You won that championship fair and square.” “Yeah, I know, it’s just that--” She pauses, fiddling to close the buttons on her cuffs. “I don’t wanna fail to meet everyone's expectations.” The cowboy looks up at her from under his lashes, his green eyes reading her for a second. “Everyone’s expectations? Or your own?”

Dean has a solid point, but evaluating thought processes is not something she needs right now. She sighs and tries to bury her frustrations, very much aware that she snaps easily when she’s on edge like she is now. It wouldn’t be the first time that she loses her cool with someone who is actually there to support her, it usually being either her parents or her brothers. She doesn’t want her boyfriend to endure the same unreasonable behavior, and so she shrugs at that. “I don’t know, really. I mean, yes, I expect a lot from myself, but the thought that people on the sideline, like Bobby, Jody, Donna… you, will judge my every move,” she pauses, letting an anxious sigh fall from her lips. “It honestly makes me feel sick.”

“You shouldn’t let it get to you like that,” Dean suggests, handing her back the buckle. “Yeah, well, that’s easier said than done,” she returns, the edge of her voice much sharper than she meant to come out. While pulling her belt through the loops, she briefly looks up, noticing his head cocked back slightly while his brows meet his hairline, which triggers her to mutter an apology. “Sorry.”

He can see the embarrassment in her stance as she turns her gaze to the floor. The slight offense he took desolates, making room for sympathy. He can tell she’s struggling to cope with the nerves and the pressure she is under, pressure she shouldn’t even be experiencing. This competition is a practice run, an environment to test her new freestyle and get back into the rhythm of the shows after a long break. However, he understands that downgrading this event will not do her any good. What he needs to convince her of, is to believe in herself, like he believes in her.

“Yankee, you’re never gonna fail my expectations. The way I see you doesn’t stand or fall with this performance, or any.” He takes her hands in his, squeezing them softly in order to prevent her from getting lost in that dark forest of negative thoughts. “I get that you want to prove yourself, but it ain’t necessary. The girls already love you, and the fact that Bobby didn’t rip me a new one for kissing you last night proves a point too. All that won’t change after today’s run.”

Carefully, Y/N glances up, met by the sight of empathy swimming in mystic green eyes. “I’m here to back you up, okay? I’ll help you with the warm up, and Jo will be there to assist. It’s gonna be fine. Your horse is awesome, your freestyle is awesome, you are awesome,” he reassures, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Now get your fine butt on that horse.” She takes a slow breath, the smile that his words surface saying just how much that means to her. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

With Meadow’s bridle in hand, she exits the tack room, feeling somewhat lighter than she did ten minutes ago. Dean’s kind words and endless support doesn’t take away the anxiety entirely, but it has enough of an effect to have her believe that maybe, just maybe, she is going to survive this evening. At least he is by her side, not just as her man, but as her trainer as well, and with the way he has been with her so far, she can already tell how different he is from her former instructor. No list of exercises she needs to go through during the warm up, no ‘do this’ or ‘don’t do that’ while she’s preparing to get on her horse. It’s a huge contrast, but one for the better. Maybe Dean is right, maybe it is going to be fine.

Dean looks up when he notices someone approaching from the corner of his eye, the small framed silhouette with a dancing ponytail unmistakably Jo’s. She has a bucket half full with water in one hand with a sponge floating on the surface, a rag hanging from her back pocket and a groom bag over her shoulder. “You ready, sis?” she asks, popping her head over the stable door. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” Y/N sighs, tightening the sinch. “You’re gonna do great. Especially with your lover whispering in your ear.” She hands them both a headset, one with a small microphone for Dean and one with an earpiece for her best friend. “Keep it clean, no heavy breathing. The poor girl needs to stay focused.”

The cowboy glares at his cousin, but he bites his tongue, simply because the comment made his girl let out a laugh. Instead he turns on the small device and pushes it in his pocket, secures the mic to the collar of his shirt. Y/N clips the headset behind her belt as well and pushes the bud into her ear. After holding the bit in front of Meadow’s mouth for her to accept, her owner pulls the crown piece of the bridle over her horse’s ears, securing the straps. Focused on her task at hand, she notices a crucial element missing. “Crap, Grandpa’s pendant,” she realizes, pushing the reins into Jo’s hand before rushing back into the tack box.

A moment later, she returns with a small suede bag in her hand, from which she carefully allows a piece of jewelry to roll into her hand. Curious, Dean watches her pick it up between her delicate fingers, after which she attaches it to Meadow’s bridle. Two beads are laced onto a thin leather cord, and the way she handles the small yet precious object, he can tell it holds much value. “Is that your good luck charm?” Jo wonders. “Yeah,” the rider acknowledges, taking back the reins from her friend and leading Meadow out of the stable. “My grandfather gave it to me on my very first show when I was seven.”

Y/N has never ridden a test without the jewel, and she can’t picture doing so in the future. The top bead is made from her birthstone, the one dangling underneath represents a guardian angel. While taking her horse outside, she rubs Meadow’s neck, tracing the charm for a second as the setting sun catches the gem. Before she had to say goodbye to the most influential person in her life, she never really pictured anyone when she saw the little figure with wings dangling from Meadow’s browband, but now she likes to think it is him, watching over her.

A couple of minutes later, Y/N has taken a seat on Meadow’s back, who excitedly walks towards the warm up area with Dean and Jo in tow. Flanked by her trainer on her right side and her groom on the left, a hint of relief hits the cowgirl unexpectedly; she has never been surrounded by a team this solid.

The horse and rider enter the side arena, where a dozen others are warming up in what seems to be a whirlwind of sensories. Music reaches Y/N’s hearing, coming from the competition ring and mixing with loud cheers of the spectators. Trainers shout at their pupils from the sideline, the steward calling for the next on the list. In her first loop in a simple walk, someone cuts her off and Meadow pins her ears back, clearly not at ease in the chaos.

“Can you hear me?” Dean asks through the headset, leaning over the fence of the training field. The familiar warm yet gruff sound in her ear silences the distractions that have her dizzy in an instance. She looks over her shoulder at the head wrangler, nodding in response. “Okay, good. Warm her up like you would do so at home. Try to seek a space where it’s not too crowded, you don’t have to use the entire area,” Dean advises, calmly. “Just focus on my voice, alright? Take a deep breath and focus on me.”

Y/N closes her eyes for a short second and collects herself, doing precisely what he tells her to do. Throughout the warm up he never underlines what she’s doing wrong, but praises her for every right move, building her confidence. For a short period of time it has her wondering if he’s sugarcoating and isn’t giving it to her straight, but minute by minute, she finds it easier to let go of that thought. His encouraging words manage to cast away the fear of screwing up, and before she knows it, she has forgotten about the other riders in the arena, nor does she notice her distracting surroundings. All she hears is his soothing vocals, all she feels is the large animal underneath her, who seems to respond well to their trainer too. Meadow might not be able to hear Dean, but apparently senses the tension oozing from her rider, and becomes more relaxed with every stride.

It’s five minutes until her starting time, when Y/N halts by the fence, next to Jo and Dean. Her friend and groom for the day takes her cue and approaches her with the bucket, wiping down Meadow’s sweaty skin with the sponge, cleaning the mare up before it’s her time to shine. Y/N takes out her ear buds, since she’s not allowed to compete with them, and hands the headset to Jo, trading it for a water bottle. “She feels good, doesn’t she?” Dean checks, smiling up at her while he takes the plastic flask from his student. The woman in the saddle nods. “She does.”

“Y/N Y/L/N! Two minutes!” The rider feels the nerves find their traction again when she glances at the steward who called out her name. She nods in acknowledgement at the man holding a clipboard, and when Jo is done toweling Meadow down, she steers the Quarter towards the entrance of the main arena. The applause that the previous competitor receives grows louder as they approach, meeting the rider on their way over. He seems very pleased with his horse, and the first thing that comes to her mind is that he must have had a good score, a score she needs to beat. The serene mindset the wrangler got her in, is threatened to be disturbed by the stage fright that grips her by the throat. Suddenly, it hits her; this is it.

“Hey…” Dean lays his hand on her knee when he detects that he’s losing her again. “Yankee?” The cowgirl snaps her gaze from the intimidating competition ground to her trainer, who meets her with the most relaxed expression he can muster, despite his worry about her current mental state. He can tell she’s downright scared, not to fall off her horse or anything, but to make a mistake, drop the ball and to have to leave the boxing ring defeated. Right now, the illuminated soil that is about to be her stage isn’t a dance floor to Y/N. No, her eyes tell him a different story, the one of a gladiator in a colosseum, being thrown into the pit for the lions, destined to be defeated, destined to fail.

“When you go in there, I need you to forget about everything,” he starts off, earning a confused look. “What do you mean?” she wonders. “Forget the judges, forget the audience, hell, forget what I’ve told you,” Dean continues, his thumb rubbing her leg soothingly. “The only one you need to listen to, is Meadow. Feel what she tells you and trust your gut when you answer. Let go of all the rest, alright?”

Y/N nods, wetting her dry lips, shooting another glance at the arena before she looks down on the man who has been able to ground her like only one other person has. Dean seems to know who is on her mind, because he reaches for the pendant attached to her horse’s bridle. “He’s with you, and I will be waiting right here, no matter what. You got this, Yankee.”

The encouraging words close off her throat much like the anxiety did earlier, but this time the sentiment is welcoming. Dean’s pep talk helped her see what is truly important, and that this moment is just a short clip of a larger motion picture. She has Meadow, she has Dean, and she has the memory of her grandfather, along with all the wise life lessons that he taught her. Whatever happens in the coming five minutes, that will not change. She trusts the beacon of support that is the man by her side. But in this very moment, most importantly, she trusts Meadow.

Y/N breathes in through her nose and exhales slowly, rubbing her horse’s shoulder, more confident than she has felt all week. The gatekeeper opens the fence for the horse and rider, nothing standing between them and the brightly lit competition ring.

“The next contestant of the evening is Y/N Y/L/N, all the way from Freeport, Maine. This young lady rides Meadowsweet, a nine year old mare sired by Gunner, and these two have made a name for themselves already. Folks, you are going to be watching the current State Champion and this pair has qualified for the prestigious All American Quarter Horse Congress in three weeks. This will be the premiere of their brand new freestyle, so get ready for a rock ‘n roll ride, y’all.”

Y/N peers into the grand arena, tilting her hat forward just enough to keep the spotlights from blinding her. She can feel Dean’s fingers slip from her knee, setting her free now that she has taken control. Focused and determined, the cowgirl makes eye contact with the sound technician, raising her hand. Showtime.

The first tones of Led Zeppelin’s Stairway To Heaven begins to play, and Y/N enters the arena slowly. The timid music silences the crowd, suspense hanging thick in the air. Meadow moves down the centerline and halts, her head low and submissive, waiting for her cue. The intro finishes, the acoustic notes dying down and leaving a second long silence. Knowing the music by heart, the woman in the saddle squeezes her fist holding the reins slightly, preparing Meadow for what is about to come. Then, right as Immigrant Song rings in her ears, she sends her Quarterhorse into a spin.

With high speed and great technique, the mare revolves on the spot like a helicopter rotor, and after going full circle four times stops dead in her tracks, before doing the exact same movement, only this time turning right. The crowd goes absolutely ballistic, and it’s then that Y/N feels a wide smile spreading on her face; she’s gonna nail this run.

One small aid is enough to push Meadow forward, the horse shooting down the centerline like an arrow leaving its bow. With only a few yards between the cowgirl and the judges, she sits back in the saddle, signalling Meadow to dig her hind legs into the ground and progress into an impressive sliding stop. It’s bold, because if the maneuver isn’t spot on, the panel will easily detect the error. The execution is perfect, however, and gathering from the entertained and impressed expressions on the judges’ faces, Y/N’s game plan is working.

With attitude, Meadow rolls back and races around the arena on a large circle, her long strides evenly powerful and rhythmic, this time to the soundtrack of Whole Lotta Love. With her left hand forward between the bay horse’s ears, the cowgirl peers down the path that’s to come, and after having gone full circle, she switches to a left canter through a flying change and mirrors the previous pattern.

The buzz ignited by both the thrilling ride and the response of the audience only fuels her confidence. When she exits the last full speed circle, she transitions into a lope, a collected gate Meadow masters well. The horse and rider combination crosses the arena through a neat half pass. It’s a sideways movement right in front of the judges, the talented mare showing off her reach and finesse.

Not once does Y/N have to correct her dancing partner, every small cue effective. Meadow follows the instructions without question, unable to give a damn about the vibrant ambiance. It’s almost as if the animal can read her owner’s mind, a telepathic connection which can only be established when human and horse have that click and share an unique bond. This is what horse riding is all about, this is the ultimate goal. Two hearts beating as one.

The music builds up to its zenith and shifts to the finishing electric guitar solo in Stairway To Heaven, by the same famous rock band that has been the backing track to this epic performance. On the diagonal, Meadow picks up speed again, her strong muscles rippling under her copper colored coat. The thousand pound being reaches a speed of forty-five miles an hour, accelerating until the opposite corner, where she performs another perfect stop followed by a roll back. There is not a speck of hesitation or doubt, nor any sign of fatigue, despite a sequential series of maneuvers.

After a third stop, she has executed the mandatory patterns, and all that’s left is to go out with a bang. Y/N sends Meadow into one final spin, the tremendous momentum having her dizzy. The sheer power radiating from under her only heightens the high the cowgirl is experiencing, the adrenaline coursing through her veins with the same speed as her horse is turning. After the rapid pirouettes, Meadow breaks off the maneuver on cue in the dead center of the arena, facing the judges. The cheering and whistling crowd almost overrules the dying sound of the guitar strings that are the last notes of the freestyle. Unable to comprehend what just happened, Y/N drops the reins, spreads her arms and folds them around her horse’s neck. Overcome with emotion she hugs her four-legged friend, without words thanking her for the ride of her life.

Only then the cowgirl realizes the roar coming from the spectators, many of them having risen to their feet. As the commentator praises her performance, she circles Meadow back toward the exit of the ring, waving at the enthusiastic kids on the first row. In that four minute run, Y/N and Meadow have stolen the hearts of everyone who is here to witness the definition of horsemanship. She can’t stop herself from smiling so widely that her cheeks hurt while her horse walks along the bleachers, the mare looking at the applauding audience, seeming to understand that it’s for her.

As they approach the gate, the rider hears one girl squeal above all others. Y/N hasn’t even looked in the direction of where the sound came from, but she already knows it’s Jo. Dancing on her feet in absolute delight, she meets her by the fence and high fives her best friend. “God damn, Sis! You rocked out there!” she exclaims, patting Meadow on her neck as well.

Y/N laughs full heartedly at her giddy friend, the ecstasy of her perfect run still in full effect. But when her gaze meets Dean’s, that happiness becomes overwhelming. The handsome cowboy is waiting for her, just like he promised. Gleaming eyes match his sly smirk, but there’s more to the expression, sentiment swimming in his emerald greens. The sight of him breaks something inside of her, and she’s unable to keep the tears at bay.

It’s then that Meadow halts, and just outside of the main arena, Dean steps towards his girl and pulls her into a hug. With her left hand still holding the reins, Y/N embraces the man who she owes so much gratitude. After all, if it wasn’t for him, the freestyle wouldn’t have turned out remotely as good, not to mention that the stress would have done her in. Today he was more than just a trainer or her boyfriend. He was the anchor that kept her grounded, the rock that wouldn’t budge when the waves crashed against her, and the sign that she needed to get out of the maze of self-doubt. She can feel Dean nuzzle his nose into her hair. “I’m so damn proud of you,” he whispers, words only meant for her to hear. Moved by his words, she hugs him a little tighter before she lets him go and wipes away her happy tears. A smile that reaches his ears is still there when she pulls herself together again. “She - she was absolutely amazing,” Y/N stammers, combing her fingers through Meadow’s mane. “The feeling she gave me… I can’t explain it. It was like we were flying.” “That’s because you were, Amelia Earhart,” Jo quips, clearly over the moon for her friend. “Want me to cool Meadow down so you can wait here for your score?”

Y/N nods, feeling her horse’s flanks expand rather rapidly every time the large animal inhales; she really gave it her everything. Once the cowgirl has both feet planted on solid ground, she scratches the mare’s favorite spot behind her ear, facing the beautiful Quarter. Meadow presses her large head against her owner’s chest, more to get rid of an itch than to return the love, making her human giggle. Then the rider hands over the reins to Jo, who takes the bay horse away from the commotion.

Still stunned, Y/N takes another breath, glancing back into the arena. “Did they call the points yet?” Dean comes to stand next to her, gazing at the board in the corner, above the bleachers. “No, I didn’t hear anything.” With her hands placed on her waist, she breathes in, trying to ignore her stomach, which begins to do backflips again. This time, there is not much she can do to influence the outcome, however. Meadow did the best she could and she didn’t make a single mistake; Y/N couldn’t have wished for more. But the new freestyle hasn’t been graded yet, so how the judges will reward the music and the degree of difficulty is still a mystery. The rider tries to tell herself that no matter what number will appear on the screen, she’s satisfied with today’s performance. But as seconds tick by, the suspense builds and eats at her composure.

She can feel Dean’s hand on the small of her back, fingertips tracing soft, calming circles. The motion helps her to pull her gaze away from the digital board, and she glances at the man by her side. Focusing on him has worked so far, so as the tension rises, she tries that tactic again. The world around her stops, her own breathing the only sound she hears, Dean’s touch the only sensation she feels. For a moment, time slows down. But when her trainer’s eyes widen and his jaw falls slack in disbelief, she’s almost too afraid to look at the definite white numbers that can make or break her evening.

It’s only when the crowd erupts that she dares to face the verdict, and what she witnesses, triggers her to clasp her hand over her mouth. Completely stunned, her eyes stay locked on the score, convinced that if she blinks, the numbers will change. She barely registers her boyfriend letting out a cheer, pumping his fists into the air and bouncing on his feet like a little kid. Her view is obstructed when strong arms wrap around her middle and lift her off the ground, but when her gaze locks on the display again, it still tells the same story of victory.

220.5 points.

Unknowingly, she holds her breath, her heart still beating against her chest so wildly, that her cowboy must be able to feel it too. It’s not just a personal best; it tops her old record by three whole points. She broke through the two-twenties, something she only ever dreamed of accomplishing, yet here she is. Shutting her eyes, her thoughts go out to her grandfather, realizing that she has done her guardian angel proud once more.

Dean must have sensed that she got lost in her own head, because he brings her back down from the heavens to their world with a gentle touch upon her cheek. He wipes a stray tear away with the pad of his thumb and takes off her hat, looking at her with so much adoration. His hand slips to the nape of her neck, his forehead bowing to gently rest against hers. Radiant light touches everything in reach, leaving what’s behind them in darkness, together with all the worries and fears. The audience doesn’t seem to be applauding the high score anymore, the wolf whistles and bellows of encouragement instead directed at the couple in the spotlight. Dean didn’t need any more motivation, his lips encasing hers in a soft kiss.

Closing her eyes, she cherishes the moment and smiles against his mouth when Dean uses her cowboy hat to shield them away from all the extra attention. It is in this instance the equestrian realizes something; out of all the rides that she experienced, either in the saddle or in life, this is the one that will go down in memory.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read part twenty-tree here

#Ride With Me #Cowboy!Dean #Dean x Reader #Supernatural AU #Dean Winchester #Supernatural #Supernatural fanfiction #Dean Winchester fanfiction

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skeletorific · 4 years ago

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(Sorry if it’s already been asked)what’s your interpretation/view of the quadrants? What in your mind makes an healthy and unhealthy quadrantship?

*distant drumbeat* I’ve been WAITING for this one! Turn it up!!!!

So, a few general notes about quadrants before getting into a breakdown. First, I don’t think there’s a hard and fast definition of what makes, say, a healthy kismessitude, any more than there’s a hard and fast definition of a healthy human relationship. What would be toxic and terrible for one couple may be exactly what keeps a different relationship together. Meowrails is very different from pale Vrisrezi, because Equius and Nepeta are different people with different wants and needs in a relationship than Vriska and Terezi. As with all bonds, it’s important to look at a broader trend of behavior and the individual mental health levels before you can say “this is unhealthy”. I DO think there are certain things to watch out for, but ultimately I probably have ships in that quadrant that may violate one or more of those “no-nos” just because of how those characters bounce off each other.

Second, I think there’s more fluidity in quadrants than the fandom typically allows for, because human relationships are also by their nature fluid. We’ve all seen a set of best friends who act like a couple even if they aren’t romantically interested, and we’ve seen couples who bicker and squabble despite being deeply in love. How you choose to identify your relationship is ultimately nobody’s business but your own, even if red love for you looks like pale love to someone else. Alternian troll culture is romance obsessed and this can lend itself to an obsession with defining the attraction, but this doesn’t mean that’s necessarily how it HAS to be.

Finally, I’ll be listing ALL confirmed canon examples of each quadrant to provide a context for what I’m referencing. This should not be taken as necessary endorsement for any of these ships, or even that I think they were a “good example”, simply that how they chose to identify influenced my own definition of these quadrants. I will also be leaving out a lot of ships that would seem to fit a particular quadrant (noteably Rosemary and Arasol) because their own status is complicated in-text (Rose explicitly refers to wanting to be in all of Kanaya’s quadrants and their relationship has tended explicitly pitch at points, Sollux is referred to as Aradia’s “boyfriend” and yet there is apparently no issue between either of them when his flush quadrant becomes occupied)

With that, let’s dig in

Matespritship:

Successful/Actually Date(d) Examples: Dad/Mom, Latula/Mituna, Meulin/Kurloz, Aranea/Porrim, Mindfang/Summoner, Meenah/Vriska, Sollux/Feferi, Konyyl/Azdaja (currently vacillating), Stelsa/Tyzias

Crushes (unrequited, vacillating, or thwarted): Eridan/Feferi, Kanaya/Vriska, Nepeta/Karkat, Equius/Aradia, Tavros/Jade, Gamzee/Tavros, Sollux/Gamzee, Jack/PM, Lynera/Bronya

What it means to me: Matespritship tends to be an opt-out quadrant for a lot of people, I think. Most seem to stop reading at “closely analogous to human conceptions of romance” and turn off their brains. However, as with all things troll culture, I think there’s more to it the deeper you go, especially considering the fact that your moirail is expected to do a LOT of what we would consider standard s/o stuff: caretaking, comfort, intimate knowledge, closeness. I absolutely refuse to buy that the only thing distinguishing the two is that matesprits have sex, especially since that stumble into some VERY UNCOMFORTABLE territory in regards to troll asexuality. So then, if it’s not that, then what is it?

Ultimately I keep coming back to the idea of passion. Your matesprit I think is the person who you genuinely see in the best possible light. Unusual for Alternian society, you’re unable to ignore the depths of your admiration of them, or to let their flaws filter into your perception. Moiraillegiance is about total honesty and unflinching recognition, but matespritship to me is about that kind of fairy tale passion. Its a person who, even if you know on an intellectual level they are not perfect, that you genuinely have a harder time seeing the darker side of because you are so consumed by this passion for what you see in them, your unfiltered awe and appreciation for who they are.

Additionally, I see matespritship as on some level inherently possessive. You not only admire that person, but you fundamentally crave their attention in a way that is probably a bit on the selfish side. Its not enough to want good for them, it has to be good alongside you. This is typically where it’s more prone to flipping caliginous.

Warning signs: Matespritships seemed to vacillate pitch FREQUENTLY on Alternia. This is not necessarily a sign that something is wrong. As Karkat says, it’s often a matter of communication and timing. However, it does have the potential to explode in everyone’s face if not carefully managed, in no small part due to the passionate emotions involved. Some things that tend to go bad fast:

-Admiration is key to an effective matespritship, but pedestalling your flushed partner too much can be dangerous. Once the flaws do become apparent (as they will in any relationship) they can become increasingly hard to ignore, and that can be SHATTERING if you don’t prepare.

-Especially on Alternia, matesprits are the quadrant I see as most likely to neglect the communication aspect of their relationship. Safety isn’t a factor for them like it is for more caliginous quadrants, and the expectation is usually that feelings jams are for moirails. Especially for younger trolls, there’s an idea that we’re in love and thus should just know what the other person needs/wants. If you don’t pick up on it, then maybe we aren’t meant to be. This is a trap. ALL relationships need communication in order to function on a day to day basis. Opening up to your matesprit about something that’s bothering you isn’t a sign of fading passion, but of maturity and your own changing needs.

-Despite a fondness for fate pairings I think matespritships are usually expected to fade out, in no small part because they’re founded on a level of passion that can be hard to keep up long-term. This is actually fine. Not all relationships are meant to last eternally. However, if you know your matesprit is a person you want in your life long-term, part of that is learning how to cope with periods of low passion. Its normal to not always feel an all-consuming desire to keep your matesprit in arms reach. It’s normal to need space. What’s important is that YOU know that you still love them, and that they have the confidence to know that’s true even when you can’t always express it.

Moirallegiance

Successful/Actually Date(d) Examples: Kanaya/Vriska, Eridan/Feferi, Gamzee/Karkat, Nepeta/Equius, Kurloz/Mituna, Meulin/Horuss, Terezi/Vriska, Kuprum/Folykl, MSPAR/Polypa, Xefros/Dammek

Crushes (unrequited, vacillating, or thwarted): Eridan/Karkat, MSPAR/Chixie, MSPAR/Stelsa, Tegiri/Polypa

What it means to me: To start out with, I haaaaaaaate hate hate the perception that moirails are just BFFs. To me, there’s too much evidence to suggest otherwise, not the least of which being that after Feferi ends their moirallegiance she tells Eridan she still wants to be friends with him. How many of you break up with your best friend and then tell them you can still be friends after?

To me, moirallegiance on Alternia is as much a coping mechanism at it is a romantic entanglement. In a society where there’s no such thing as therapy, your moirail ideally functions as a release valve for you, to help you exercise softer feelings in a safe, sanctioned environment. Two things are key in that dynamic: honesty, and selflessness.

There’s no pretense in a moirallegiance, but an unflinching embrace. The successful moirails we’ve seen (Meowrails, KupFol, arguably GamKar) have always been rooted in banter that may come off as pitch at first glance. This is partly due to general Alternian socialization practice, but I think it also stems from the fact that pale love is founded in knowing every inch of your partner. You know what they are, body and soul, the flaws and the highlights, and while you do not uncritically accept it like a matesprit might, some part of you fundamentally identifies with. Your moirail is that person who you feel like you’ve known for years after talking for a few hours, because something about how they’re wired clicks with you in a way most don’t. As such, there’s less need for posturing. A feelings jam is one of the few places on Alternia where you are allowed to admit to vulnerability, to fear, to frustration, because you know that the other person will have your back unquestioningly without letting you get away with bullshit.

This mutual support stems from the other half of pale love: the desire to see the other person flourish, no matter what. If the matesprit wants you to be happy at their side, the moirail wants you to flourish even if they do not stand to benefit. You experience your moirail’s success like it was your own, and want as good for them or better than you want for yourself.

Some warning signs:

-Burnout. We see this in most clearly in Eridan and Feferi’s case (and a bit in Gamzee and Karkat’s case), but its a genuine risk in moirallegiance. The caretaking HAS to go both ways or the relationship is doomed to fail. More often than not, burnout indicates a failure within the relationship. Your moirail has not been caring for you to the degree you need, and quite possibly you have not been communicating HOW you would like that behavior to change. As I said, honesty is essential, and things ideally should never reach the point of burnout because you are in constant complete openness with your moirail about how you need taking care of.

-Fucked expectations. Romance is a dominating subject on Alternia, for obvious reasons, and one of the biggest hits a moirallegiance can take is a person questioning too far into pale desire until they mistake it for something else. The two are very close, but they are not exactly the same thing and often times the relationship can be sunk by one person getting in their head about that intimacy until they try to make it something it isn’t. Moiraillegiance is not a stepping stone for matesprit or kismesis, and most importantly it is not a consolation prize quadrant. You should never “settle” for moirail, or pale date someone who will accept you as a moirail only if they can’t get you as anything else. You need to want a moirail for a moirails sake, or its just a crush with extra levels of fuckery and expected free therapy.

Kismessitude

Successful/Actually Date(d) Examples: Spades Slick/Sn0wman, Jack Noir/Black Queen, Eridan/Vriska (now broken up), Karkat/Karkat, Mindfang/Dualscar, Terezi/Gamzee, Tagora/Galekh, Bronya/Elwurd.

Crushes (unrequited, thwarted, vacillating): Eridan/Rose, Vriska/Tavros, Karkat/John, Gamzee/Dave, Sollux/Gamzee, Eridan/Sollux, PM/Bec Noir, Terezi/Vriska, John/Terezi, Konyyl/Skylla, Daraya/Lynera

What it means to me:

I want to structure this as a dismantling of two very common misconceptions I see for this quadrant. One, kismesis is NOT the inherent abuse quadrant. This I believe is working with a faulty definition of what abuse is. Abuse is not simply being mean or engaging in a physical manner with somebody. As has become something of a mantra for this essay, its about expectations. Abuse requires someone to be taking advantage, exploiting a particular vulnerability (or creating it if none inherently exists). What makes a relationship abusive is a situation where someone you SHOULD be able to trust or care for uses those expectations to hurt you, either for personal gain or simply to make themselves feel better. A kismesis is not that, because a healthy kismesis goes in with the expectation of rivalry. For some kismeses, this looks like basic sniping, insults, and jabs. For others, it looks like actual fighting. In either case, its the difference between a boxing match and assault. As long as the rules are being respected, both parties are consented, and someone is checking in to ensure that no one is hurting themselves (sometimes your partner, sometimes your moirail, sometimes your auspitice), then there is nothing inherently wrong with having a circumstance in which you are allowed to work through some nastier feelings without fear of consequence or hurting someone who can’t take it.

The second misconception: kismesis is not just a relationship with some bitchier dialogue. As we’ve seen, being a little bit rude is not restricted to pitch feelings. We have many examples of it in relationships that would be considered unequivocally red or pale on Alternia (KupFol, MeenVris). I go back to the Karkat dialogue constantly. Your kismesis is not just a person you make fun of, but something closer to your true rival (in the shonen anime sense). Its a person who you see so much good (or potential for good in), but who is brought down by some kind of fatal flaw that just grates at you. And so, you fixate on the idea of pushing them out of that flaw, through whatever means necessary.

Its from this fatal flaw that I believe the benefits of kismesis come out. Your kismesis, like your matesprit, has intense passion for you, but doesn’t idealize you. In fact, at points your kismesis may be incredibly aware of the WORST possible version of you. What distinguishes it from platonic hate, though, is the fact that you at your worst doesn’t make them flinch. It makes them want to provoke you, to see how you can change. Kismeses sharpen each other, which is something that rarely feels good but is so often necessary. You should never let your kismesis sit back too far on their laurels, because it is your job to be consciously aware of their faults and call them out on it.

Additionally, while the hatefucking aspect is often overestimated, I think its not surprising that passion in these kinds of relationships tend to get intense, which is part of why it so often requires some kind of ashen intervention. Once harnessed, though, that passion can be turned to powerful ends for both yourselves and the world around you.

Some things to watch out for (unsurprisingly there’s a LOT for this one but I’ve distilled it into two broad ones because this thing will be long enough):

Power imbalance: As I said, kismesis is not inherently abusive. However, it DECIDEDLY has the potential to become so, in particular in a society like Alternia where the power strafes are often so significant. This is particularly the case in pitch relationships involving a highblood and a lowblood, especially when the highblood is “steering the ship”. Vriska/Tavros is a good example. If summarized, her feelings for Tavros pre-Sgrub are very straightforward and healthy pitch ones. She admires his potential and envies his kinder relationships while despising his indecisiveness. All fine enough groundwork. However, three factors collaborate to make it a hot disaster: Tavros’s disinterest in her (meaning the pitch advances are unwelcome and in some real sense nonconsensual), Vriska’s own lack of restraint (meaning she takes things too far even for a kismesis), and the inherent caste imbalance (meaning Tavros has no meaningful way of fighting back and nothing in Vriska’s rearing has taught her to care if a lowblood gets hurt by her actions). This isn’t to say a highblood-lowblood (or any humanly imbalanced relationship) can NEVER work, but it requires both parties to put the work in to even the playing field. The highblood needs to actively show restraint, both physically and situationally. This is also where an auspitice generally comes in handy, ensuring things never get to a point where the action becomes one-sided.

Misdirected Rage: As I said, kismessitude is a Space, much like moiraillegiance, that gives you the opportunity to work through some less-than-palatable emotions. Using a pitch date as a way to burn off stress is not inherently invalid; in fact, its often expected and as long as your partner is willing can be one of the better ways to cope with something without having to address it directly. However, this CANNOT be built into the foundation of the relationship. Your kismesis is not a punching bag, but their own person, and the focus always needs to eventually return to that. You cannot effectively sharpen someone else if your anger is never about them, and it is ultimately unfair to constantly ask someone else to consistently bear the brunt of your bad days. This is (debatably) where pitch Gamrezi went wrong. Ultimately that kismesis was never really about each other, but about both of them projecting their self-loathing onto the other person when they were both at incredibly low place, thus making their anger unproductive and meaningless for both of them. As such, any kind of empathy was impossible and they were not able to self-regulate.

Auspiticism

Succesful/Actually Date(d): Vriska/Kanaya/Tavros, Karkat/Jade/Karkat, Spades Slick/Doc Scratch/Sn0wman, Liv Tyler/Courtyard Droll/Wizardly Vassal, PM/Jade/Bec Noir, Kanaya/Vriska/Rose

Crushes (unrequited, thwarted, vacillating): Vriska/Kanaya/Eridan, Gamzee/Rose/Terezi (look I know this one is practically canon but Rose kind of implies she never really used those auspiticism lessons), Rose/Kanaya/Horrorterrors, Eridan/Feferi/Sollux, Gamzee/Kanaya/Karkat, Dave/Kanaya/Karkat, Konyyl/MSPA Reader/Azdaja.

What it means to me: Ahh the bastard child of quadrants. I’ve got a lot of unpopular opinions on auspiticism (most notably that Kanaya isn’t actually that good at it), but let’s start with defining some things. I believe there are two kinds of auspitices.

One is the “breakup” auspitice. This is the version described in the infamous romance pages of Homestuck. This version is meant to prevent a black romance from breaking out where one shouldn’t occur, either because one or both parties already has a kismesis or because there is some other mitigating factor that means neither can afford to get bogged down in this crush. A breakup auspitice should ideally be a figure that both parties trust, even in the midst of heated feelings. They should also have the strength of will to continually interfere, and a clear enough head to cut to the root of the issue. Its a thankless task, often, but a very vital one, and most importantly, short-lived. This auspitice’s job only lasts as long as the feelings last. Once both parties have had the chance to cool down (or the circumstances creating the rivalry are at an end), their job is considered over.

The other kind is the version that we arguably see more of in canon, what I call the Third Leaf. This is less an intercessary party and more the third member of a particularly tempestuous kismesis, who will act to ensure the other two leaves don’t cause serious harm to themselves or each other. This relationship is far more long-term, and thus has more requirements. To me, your auspitice is someone who has pale potential with both you AND your kismesis. They know and care about you both on a very deep level, to the point that they are willing to put themselves in the middle of your bullshit very consistently. This means that you trust them enough to call it quits even in the heat of your anger, and you also believe what they tell you about your own pitch partner when their actions need greater contextualization to keep things on the level. This task is often equally challenging, but (hopefully) not as thankless or as pragmatic.

I’ve previously referred to the auspitice as a personified safeword, and I believe that’s very emblematic of the Third Leaf. Even healthy kismeses may reach a point where one needs a day off, or something hits in the wrong way. In a rivalry, though, admitting that isn’t necessarily easy, as its both breaking kayfabe and has the potential to read as more weakness that needs to be excised (”it hurts because its working”). The auspitice is privileged to go between and be believed every time. If your auspitice says its a no go then you better have a pretty damn good reason to ignore them. For some kismeses, overriding the auspitice is grounds to break up once and for all.

Some warning signs:

Burnout: As is the case with the previously discussed concilliatory quadrant, caretaking can be exhausting. This is especially the case in auspiticism, where the care is often expected to be very one sided, and usually involves dealing with a lot of vitriol, anger, and even physical violence. Obviously its more prevalent in Third Leaf dynamics, but even breakup auspitices can reach a breaking point if they’re not careful. Its important as the ashenmate to understand your own limits. For better or for worse, the focus will not be on you. If you are reaching a low point, then you need to be vocal about this with your other two leaves, or disaster is almost inevitable. The trade-off for this is that (according to my headcanons at least), your ashenmates are expected to drop everything to care for you if you need it. The kismesis will not be safe to proceed until you are back in fighting shape, and as such a truce is declared until they have both done “aftercare” of a sort for you. What this looks like is different for every auspiticism. For some, its alone time. For others, its blanket burritos, movies, and forehead kisses. No matter what, though its IMPERATIVE that you find a method that works for you, because the relationship crumbles without self-care.

Doormatting: As I said, auspiticism is a concilliatory quadrant. As such, there can be a tendency to over-forgive or overwork, especially if your other two leaves have stronger personalities. In particular, ausptices who are closer with one leaf over the other need to be vigilant for favoritism or bowing down. It is your job to contextualize the actions of your ashenmates. It is not your job to do apologetics for them or atone for their actions. Hold them all accountable. They need to be putting in at least as much work as you do to make their relationship work and not just offset the emotional repair to you.

Controlling: The inverse of this is the power-tripping auspitice. This seems unlikely, but its more of a threat than one might think, in my view. Because of the trust auspitices command by virtue of their position and their relationship with the other two leaves, their word is in some sense law. This can be addictive to some people, and lead to an abuse of power that can be just as toxic as in any other quadrant. It can look like scolding your ashenmates far too much, placing yourself at the center of their issues, or even punishing them for annoying you when what they’re doing is perfectly acceptable within the context of a kismessitude. As I said, self-care is important for an auspitice, but selflessness needs to be at the core of concilliatory dynamics. You are here because you genuinely want good for the people you are mediating for. If the relationship has become all about you, then something has gone horribly wrong. Avoid the urge to power trip just because the role is sometimes a Lot.

#Anonymous #homestuck #quadrants #matesprit #matespritship #kismesis #kismessitude #moirail #moiraillegiance #auspiticism #auspitice #headcanon #long post

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imaginethebeautifulworld · 4 years ago

Note

since you've been writing a lot of spn stuff- can i request something with hands, autumn, & raphael. if not its ok!!!

My lovely, it is more than okay, and it is my pleasure. I hope you enjoy!

Patient eyes regarded darkening skies, glancing surreptitiously for the first flickers of lightning, counting each second between one breath of thunder and the next. The heavens were dancing in the fading violets of the setting sun, twinkling with their robust bedazzlement of stars. But the creeping greys and navies drew ever nearer, an ominous formation promising devastation should its warnings not be heeded. You took another sip of your drink, eyes slipping shut against the threat drawing nearer and nearer. Goose flesh rose on your arms as the barometric pressure continued to drop, electricity a near tangibility in the air. Still, you paid no mind, rather distracted by the delightful mixture of warmed spices harmonizing on your tongue before steadily making their way to settle within the cockles of your heart. The first hissing droplets of rain against the concrete made you pause, lowering your cup. Your eyes remained shut however, keenly listening to each huff of the wind, each furious growl of thunder. There was a righteous fury to this storm, rapidly centering itself around the small pavilion in which you had claimed temporary sanctuary. A small irritation of your own began to swell, enough to remove the contentment from your lips, eyes opening to narrow slits as you beheld the chaos beyond the wooden structure. Leaves formerly splattered in scarlets and golds and blazing siennas had been cast into murky waters, all vibrancy overwhelmed by the melancholic ferocity tossing them about in a whirlwind. Soft illumination from antiquated lanterns was subdued to dimmed pallor, spectral shifts shimmering against near impenetrable shadow. Somewhere nearby, but beyond line of sight, a tree creaked as it succumbed to the wind, the echo lost to the relentless chaos of the storm. Mild irritation grew into surging irascibility, cup set onto the wooden planks of the tabletop beneath you as you stood on the bench, devoid of any of the carefree optimism that had been so abundant earlier in the evening. "You can cut the theatrics; I'm not going anywhere!" Your words could have been nothing more than a bee's wing brushing against a flower petal, the shift of a spider's leg as it perfected another layer of its web; your proclamation was near unintelligible when faced with the terrible volume from the storm. But between the small shift in the direction of the wind and the answering roar of thunder- loudest of all- your confidence grew. Resolute, you leapt from your post, striding to the edge of your shelter, a feral smile crossing your lips with bitter abandon, doing well to hide the first twists of anxiety deep within your gut. You had worked so hard to create this confrontation, and now when presented with the grim reality of your circumstances, fear was worming its way through you, whispers from Panic tracing against your neck, her loathsome ally Doubt curling her fingers against your spine. Determined, you ignored those annoying agents of Chaos, stepping forward into the deluge. The first strike of lightning hit scarcely meters away, flash temporarily blinding you, crack deafening and shaking the ground beneath you. Reflexive instinct had you stumbling away, trying to shield yourself against the effects far too late. When your vision faded from jaded blue and thistle-tinted spots, phantasmal remnants of staring down the fulmination, you were at last able to truly cast your gaze upon your companion. Seething fury pooled around her, rage reflecting in the spark of her eyes. The shadow of a dozen wings played on the ground and in the canopy above you, shifting with each twist of the wind. Revulsion marred her features, the detestation eliciting a trace of contriteness deep within your chest. “Tell me why I shouldn’t smite you here and now.” The command was issued with all the potent magnificence of any Celestial, sparking trepidation deep within your soul. She towered over you, looming magnificence and vengeance mere moments from annihilation. Familiar blue danced in her eyes, a visceral reminder of how furious she truly was. But you had picked up on the plea within her decree. Shrouded beneath epochs of steadfast detachment was someone who felt so deeply, so thoroughly, that they had concealed themselves eons ago beneath a stern exterior, beneath a visage of a calculating strategist and general. The image was so strong, so consuming, she scarcely seemed aware of it herself sometimes. It was in those more intimate moments however when you began to read her, peering into the complexities of each mask she adorned. And in this moment, it was clear to see that beneath her fury, beneath her scorn, there was a searing pain in every movement she was making; more than all else, Raphael felt you had betrayed her, and that single sting of knowledge was more than sufficient for your gesture of surrender. "I'm sorry." Your placating tone did nothing to calm her, pulchritude somehow magnified through her scathing gaze. Encouraged by her lack of reply however, you took a cautious step forward, continuing your explanation. "I knew going to him would hurt you, and I still did it. You have every right to be pissed at me." "There are no words known to man in this world or the next to express-" There was a pause, a flicker of a scowl as she turned away from you, blue fading from her eyes as she surveyed the nearby trees. "You cut me deeply." Perhaps it was some remnant of stubborn indignation, or perhaps it was the inability to keep the passing thought contained, but Amara-help-you, the bite passed through your lips before you could restrain yourself. "At least the feeling's mutual." It was barely a breath, scarcely a coherent thought. Yet still she heard it, the words rippling through her wings as if she had been physically struck by them. Affronted gaze once more pinned you in place, the hairs along your nape rising in the face of thrumming electricity. "How dare you." She may have shouted or perhaps she had whispered; the hubris coating each syllable ate away at you, gnawing you in the ceaseless reminder that you were nothing compared to her. It was a logic that for years you had abided by, treading carefully alongside the ragtag collection of Hunters and Hosts, guarding your words and thoughts from Monsters and Malevolents alike. But much like the gods and goddesses of old, you had come to discover the immortals who walked the Earth were just as flawed as Humanity; you refused to display even a fraction of your fear in the face of her fury. "How dare I?" Memories assaulted you, vivid recollections of the hours spent raiding any literature you could find, the desperate summons to lesser Celestials, to Demons, to Pagans, to Fey, those excruciating evenings spent yearning for her presence, praying and cursing and crying into the darkest hours of the night. "How dare you!" Fervent prayers had proved useless, anxieties tying into fears and a dark web of self-doubt, eating away at your spirit. Desperation had left you precariously balanced on a precipice that surely would have damned you, had not one of the Archangels- the most unexpected- come to guide you back home. She had broken the oaths she made to you, disappearing from your side with no warning, no indications that she planned on returning. Having offered her your very soul, your every heartbeat, every inch of devotion- You had expected more care than what had been provided. Her touch had been so alien, her sweetest nothings oft hovering on the cusp of disturbing. But her love had been clear, her adoration shining as she watched you create, fondness blinding whenever you were lost in debate. She gave no indication of discontent, the warmongering visage that she brazenly wore crumbling to that of the Healer- curious, warm, and so full of life and light and hope and love that you could scarcely breathe around her. You had had no doubts of her affections, but her abandonment- Moisture stung your eyes, the yearning for those halcyon days depleting whatever pride you had been trying to maintain. Ferocity in your gaze, yet once more you turned to face her. "You abandoned me, Raphael." Your words sparked no form of reaction within her, nothing beyond the roiling rage radiating within her burnished orifices. "And still, you dared t-" "I did what I had to!" You spared her no mercy, once again stepping nearer, interrupting her condemnation before it could be truly vocalized. "We- I needed you." There was a flash of realization, so brief and sudden that had you not known her so well- not known by your own heartbeat the rhythm of her Grace, not known by memory the very slope of her eyes, not known by your very spirit the sensibilities within her- you surely would have missed the remorse reflecting in her eyes. "I needed you, Ra'phael. And you weren’t there.” The storm continued to rage all around you, fierce gale tossing loose twigs and leaves and rubbish from the nearest bins into a wall of relentless fury. Another flash of lightning electrified the air, the shadow of her wings nearly intimidating with their breadth. But you were long past the point of fear, beyond coercion. The very starlight that shimmered through her veins was as intimately familiar to you as the callouses on your own hands, and despite the severity of the storm around you- Not a drop of water had reached you, and only a few stray whispers of wind teased your eyelashes. For how angry you were, a sliver of hope embedded itself into your heart, a yearning to move past your own damnable pride now that you finally had her attention again. Her next words however, a low undercurrent of tension that echoed deep in your bones, forcefully smothered the flicker before it could fully begin to burn. “You forget your place, Oracle. I am not some pet,” she spat out, hauteur coating each syllable, grinding against your resolve. Raphael’s scowl, bitter expression coated in disdain, ate at your confidence, making you feel all that more insignificant in her presence. “I am the Wind and Skies. I am Majesty and Divinity; you are nothing more than an exiguous assemblage of quintessence.” The intensity of her proclamation- searing lightning, sharp tempest- wedged itself into your chest, corporeal reaction just as palpable as it would have been had she chosen instead to drive her halberd directly into your heart. This was not the being who had whispered stories of Creation into the pale hours of the morning, not the begrudging ally you had welcomed with equal wariness, the entity who you had come to see as so much more than a Primordial Agent of God. She used to smile for you, laughed with you. Aggrieved and enduring what felt a betrayal, your arms folded together in an attempt to shield yourself from further agony. Turning away from her, you nearly missed the transition in her expression, almost missed the pain in her own eyes. It was scarcely a flicker, but it was enough to give you pause, eyes narrowing in accusatory suspicion as she once more began to speak. “I have one final question for you, Oracle.” You had barely acknowledged her approach until she was standing right in front of you, wings folding away into their own stratum, features vulnerable in a way you had never seen before. She was fully unguarded, all traces of anger fallen from her frame, the crisp autumn air teasing loose strands of her hair. But it was her eyes- Timeless, boundless, beguiling in ways you could never even hope to describe- Her eyes drew you in, weaving into your curiousity, tugging so slightly at the tiniest shred of faith you had stubbornly clung to, hope having refused to retreat entirely. “How is it that someone so infinitesimal has so thoroughly ripped my plenary existence asunder?” Many of her English expressions were significantly outdated, but it was a rarity these days for her words to leave you completely befuddled. “What?” Her lips curled, a soft, achingly familiar smile creasing her features. There was a slight trace of mirth sparkling in her eyes, as well as some other unnamed emotion you didn’t dare wish for. You couldn’t look away even if you had longed to; the simple truth was that you were still spellbound by her presence, captivated by every motion. And that soft, gentle, affectionate smile- You hung your head in shame, desperately wishing you could cling to your anger, could somehow rid yourself of this depthless yearning. Her hand rose slowly, as if she were approaching a startled animal. The movement in your peripheral had you instinctively take a step back, once more studying the Archangel, now with far more confusion. “What it means, mi praevideat, is that I forgive you, and I apologise for departing without proper explanation.” Her words had only just reached you, spoken so softly that they nearly were lost to what remained of the breeze. You stared dumbly at her, doubting your own senses. It was inconceivable; Raphael was just as proud as her siblings, in many ways even more so. For her to be expressing any form of remorse- The light from one of the lanterns reflected in her eyes, the shifting shadows tugging you away from your suspicious rumination. You allowed yourself the diversion, taking a moment to study the eyes you had drowned in countless times before. Shifting axinite and bronze, and always that faint flicker of beryl- They were a cacophony of colour, ringing with a whole symphony of emotion. Doubt clung to you, your eyes narrowed as you tried to detect any insincerity from the Archangel. But her posture was tranquil, hands extended slightly from her sides in mimicry of a gesture you yourself had made thousands of times before. She was truly offering her atonement, truly regretted ever harming you. That simple asseveration was sufficient enough to pacify what had remained of your insecurities. Raphael sensed your crumbling barricades before you yourself could even begin to acknowledge them, meeting you directly, steering you safely into the harbour of her embrace. "I'm sorry," breathed tenderly against your temple, cautious fingers tracing new paths through your hair. You sighed, trying to continue grasping the threads of your anger, the fading traces of former anguish. But the memories were hazing away, all aching and suffering retreating under the Healer's tender supervision, adrenaline ebbing away with each breath. There was a moment when the atmosphere around you shifted, the cooled night air replaced with the glowing warmth of a candlelit room, torrential downpour replaced by the gentle medley of droplets against ancient windowpanes. Sometime in the hazy, blissful moments that followed, you had found yourself lying on a bed, the familiar hints of somnolence creeping ever closer. You had never dared to hope for anything beyond a few moments, had not dared to dream of the possibility you could weather the storm together. Your fingers drifted languidly across her back, pausing over each scar, every rise and fall of bone beneath her skin. You brushed aside stray feathers as you explored, giving into the inescapable smile at being bequeathed this vulnerability. An austere prayer of gratitude slipped past your subconscious, the smallest hint of praise to the most rebellious of Angels. You had to give the Devil his due; Lucifer still knew the exact words to prompt his kin into action. "It's highly impolite-" A drowsy voice interrupted your chain of thoughts, drawing your focus back to Raphael’s visage. Satisfied she had your attention, her eye closed once more, a small hint of bemusement coating her words. "-that you're thinking of my brother right now." Guilt summoned a wince from you, one you quickly shoved aside, favoring instead to fall once more to the empty space beside her, patient eyes taking in every crease, every pore, every millimetre of perfection to your beloved's physique. Surrender was a word neither of you would ever dare speak, but as you allowed yourself to relax in Raphael's embrace, your heavy eyes drifting gently over umber wings still sparkling with residual energy, you accepted the irrefutable truth of your circumstances. You had fallen irrevocably for an Archangel. And somewhere, only just piercing the cusps of whim and fancy, as you succumbed to the steady crescendo of slumber's sirenous strains, the lingering scents of cinnamon and petrichor drizzled softly on a breeze sighing: I love you, too.

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beyondconfessor · 4 years ago

Text

Principle Decisions [10/24]

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Lilith/Zelda Spellman

Summary: Were they occasional partners who engaged in a professional relationship based on a mutual exchange? Or were they occasionally a patron and client, engaging in a relationship based on kink.

N.B.: Also posted on AO3. This is pure fantasy, please suspend your disbelief.

By the next morning, Zelda had awoken feeling unrefreshed. Although she and Lilith did not engage in any forms of sexual activity––outside of the spanking sessions-–Zelda felt the night roll over her. I’m proud of you ringing through her ears as loud as they had the night before.

Zelda had awoken on the lounge, wrapped in blankets, feeling exhausted with weight on her chest.

She hadn’t dreamt, only moments of respite with her waking up to occasionally put more firewood into the fire, before falling asleep again, rolling through her emotions.

As Lilith quietly made her way down the stairs, Zelda closed her eyes, pretending to drift asleep as she heard the sound of the woman shuffling around her house, before she began making breakfast. Only as the movement of pans was too loud to ignore, did she decide to ‘wake up’ and join her, sitting at the table as Lilith pulled out eggs, bacon, and brought done spices from the rack hanging above the stove.

“There’s orange juice in the fridge, otherwise, feel free to make yourself tea.”

Zelda went for the latter option, boiling water in the jug, before pouring into a pot of black tea. It was enough, she felt. But by the time that she’d set out the cups, and poured the tea, Lilith had finished cooking the bacon and eggs, setting them on a plate each and sat down from across her.

“Sleep well?”

“Enough,” Zelda lied, cutting into the eggs to see that Lilith liked hers sunny-side up.

She ate them without complaint, with pepper and salt, and ate her bacon too without further conversation, feeling the tiredness carry over. More than once, she shifted on the seat, trying to ease the sting, and caught Lilith glancing up with a smirk. Knowing the reason for her shifting discomfort.

“Your clothes are dried. I set them aside from you.”

“Thank you,” Zelda said. The entire situation was as strange today as it was yesterday. By chance, she had taken the forest road, and instead of ending up on the other side, where she would come out near the Spellman home, she ended up on this side, near the Wardwell residence (so to speak). And then had engaged in kink with the woman, who opened up her home to her, before setting a place on her lounge.

Because sleeping in the same bed would have been too intimate.

If Zelda was honest, she’d considered making her way up the stairs and seeing what changes would bring. She wanted, quietly ardently, to slide between the sheets and press her lips to Lilith’s mouth and feel her sigh against her. She wanted to draw her hands over her body and feel her whimper and moan and quiver against her.

But instead, she’d lain awake, thinking about doing it and then not.

Perhaps it was a mistake as she watched Lilith stare over her plate at her, but if Zelda was honest, it was becoming difficult to work out their relationship. Were they occasional partners who engaged in a professional relationship based on a mutual exchange? Or were they occasionally a patron and client, engaging in a relationship based on kink.

Zelda wasn’t sure.

Furthermore, she didn’t know which answer she preferred. And as Lilith smirked at her and Zelda buried herself in tea, blinking tiredly at the woman as she squirmed in the kitchen seat, all she could think was how desperately she wanted to feel the other woman’s fingers buried between her thighs.

“What are you thinking about?” Lilith asked as she set her knife and fork down.

“Nothing of interest.”

“I’ve just washed a most lovely shade of red colour your face, so I highly doubt that.”

Zelda drew in a breath and looked away. “Don’t be absurd,” she commented.

It was the weekend––but her car was still bogged and the more she left it alone, the more likely that a bear (or some creature) was likely to make her way inside of it. And she had a terrible feeling that somehow she’d forgotten to lock the door.

So she shook her head, trying not to remember how it felt to be fucked by the woman, pressed against a hard surface as she felt her tongue curl around her clit and her fingers working their way inside of her.

If she didn’t know better, she would suspect that Lilith had dosed her breakfast with an aphrodisiac.

But she did know better, and knew that the arousal was entirely dependent on the fact that Lilith was giving her a look that seemed to say ‘I could have you on this table in a few seconds if I wanted it’.

Zelda cleared her throat and drunk deeper into the tea, trying to ignore how Lilith continued to look over, across their food. It was still raining outside, but a dreary rain, trickling down the window, with grey skies. It was nowhere near as bad as yesterday, but Zelda suspected it was unlikely to let up any time soon.

She would need to get her car pulled by something more powerful. She would need to call a mechanic.

She focused on staring out the window, trying not to remember how Lilith had taken her in the garden.

“Do you have any clients today?” she asked.

“I do not,” Lilith informed her. “Free day to focus on work. Did you want me to take you home?”

Zelda nodded. It’d be easier to get Hilda to take her to her car than it would be to walk there from here. She couldn’t remember how long it took her. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Not at all, but it would be a favour owed.” Zelda turned and looked to the woman, watching her laugh. “that was a joke, of course.”

A pity, she thought but didn’t dare speak the words. She wouldn’t mind owning the ever so evasive Principle Wardwell a favour. The idea if being on her knees had never seemed so attractive.

I’m proud of you.

Zelda looked away and felt the pain shift through her. She wished the woman hadn’t said those words together, but it didn’t matter.

After breakfast, she dressed in her last night’s clothes, having parted ways with her stockings. Standing in the bathroom, with a spare toothbrush been provided, she brushed her teeth and tried to bring some semblance of tame to her well-tussled hair.

She spent most of the night thinking of Lilith, going as far as considering to masturbate on the woman’s lounge, before ultimately deciding against it. It felt somehow impolite and yet…expected? No, that wasn’t the word. It felt like there’d be an invitation between words stated that Zelda could have climbed the stairs and slipped into the woman's bed, but she hadn’t.

And now she was regretting it. Though it was probably the right decision, despite how achingly wet she'd been after the spanking. Even now, as she smoothed the material of the dress, she felt her hands press over the welts, leaving her to draw in a tight breath.

She could seduce her, Zelda realised. It wouldn’t be difficult to accidentally brush her fingers against the woman, and feel her respond in kind. After all, she’d done masterfully last night to get the spanking. How difficult would it be to draw the woman out of her underwear?

Setting the toothbrush down, she left the bathroom, at least feeling some semblance of clean with her washed and dried clothes.

Lilith waited for her the lounge room, slipping into her boots and pulling a coat off the hook to draw on. The rain was pattering down, and Zelda longed to feel something. But she followed the woman, watching as she opened an umbrella to step outside.

The umbrella held over them both as she walked them to her car, opening up the passenger door first, allowing Zelda passage before climbing into the driver’s seat herself. In the car, the rain continued to patter down on the windscreen as she pulled out of the driveway, and onto the highway.

It was quiet for a moment, and Zelda sat in the seat, back straight.

“I don’t think my car will survive the fire roads, so I’m afraid you’ll have to reach out to someone with a truck.”

“I will thank you.”

“But I’ll still need you to give me directions. I know you're on the other side of the forest, but I don’t know where that is.”

“Oh, it’s…if you drive into town, you take a left at the library.”

“Ah,” Lilith hummed. “Easy enough.”

Silence fell again, and Zelda propped her head against her arm on the window, feeling the tiredness drift over her. She wished she’d slept better.

Lilith was careful in how she drove in the rain, slower than Zelda would have been and yet Zelda was ultimately grateful for it. This should allow her the opportunity to learn more about the woman, and yet all she could think about was last night.

“What does the girlfriend experience involve?”

Zelda blinked, realising that the sentence had come out of her mouth. She flushed and looked away, trying to play it off with an air of indifference, but she could feel the woman’s eyes on her, a soft chuckle breaking in the space between them.

“Mm, for most clients, it usually involved dinner, drinks, and then we would return to their hotel room and negotiate from there. Are you looking to understand the girlfriend experience specifically, or are you trying to enquire as to what deluxe means in this context?”

“The latter,” Zelda said, pleased with how calm she sounded.

“Well, for you I would probably advise to book in advanced and suggest somewhere in the city for the weekend. You’d pick me up, we’d drive to the city, get a hotel there and then get drinks and dinner the first night where I would spend every opportunity to seduce you in public, and then the next day we would get breakfast together, go out and visit the art museum where I would impress you with all of my knowledge in the fine arts before I would seduce you somewhere entirely inappropriate where you weren’t allowed to make a noise. If you were especially noisy, I’d have to gag you…, and I’m sure you can imagine with what.”

Zelda squirmed in her seat, already picturing it.

“And then, we’d get a late lunch, venture around, go back to the hotel where I would ensure you’re appropriately dressed in ropes, or with a toy, before taking you out to dinner, and then, if you were so inclined, I would take you a private invitee only club where you could see other like-minded people, or we could go off and find somewhere inappropriate to have sex. There’s an old Catholic Church that I know how to get into, and I could fuck you in the confessional booth.”

Zelda blinked, feeling the flush fill her face. “Pull over,” she said.

“Pardon?” Lilith enquired innocently. They were still on the highway, five minutes outside of town.

“Pull over,” Zelda said again, turning and looking at her. Lilith grinned, obeying as she pulled over, off the side of the road. The rain still fell outside, reasonably heavy as it washed down the windows.

Zelda drew in a deep breath, unbuckling her seat belt, but Lilith was faster, and somehow, the moment the seatbelt was off from Zelda, Lilith was on her lap, kissing her like the world was ending.

Zelda drew up, pressing against Lilith. She slid her hands up her waist before she was tugging the jacket from Lilith’s shoulders and pulling up her dress as Lilith did the same with her. And then Lilith’s mouth was hot against her shoulder, nipping over the skin and Zelda was keening as her breast was palmed through the material of her dress.

This was insane, absolutely insane, and yet she couldn’t help but not care a single bit when Lilith was biting down on her shoulder as her fingers pushed up the material of her dress.

Her fingers stroked purposefully between her thighs, and Zelda could feel the effect on her already. If she wasn’t careful, this was going to be over as fast as it began.

And then Lilith was kissing her again, lips parting with a soft laugh as she slid underneath the band of the underwear and stroked Zelda with purposeful intent.

In a short, firm stroke against her sex, Zelda lifted her hips, wanting her deeper insider. She could feel the woman’s focus to tease her, and as Zelda’s nails pressed harder into her back, an urging moan pushing against her mouth, she felt Lilith submit to her need.

Her fingers slid inside, and Zelda gasped at the feeling. At how the woman filled her as she pressed her thumb against her clit, purposefully drawing over her. Zelda sighed, dropping her head to Lilith’s shoulder and drew her hands over Lilith’s thighs, clutching at them as she rocked her hips.

“You should have come to bed with me last night,” Lilith said in her ear. “I would have fucked you like you really wanted.”

Zelda bit her lip, eyes squeezing shut. “I should have,” she agreed.

“Mm. I have all sorts of lovely items to use. But I know what you really want.”

“And what’s that?” Zelda asked, pulling away to press against the seat of the car. She looked up, into the blue eyes that seemed all the more bright in the dark interior. The woman’s mouth parted to pant hot, sharp gasps.

“You want to seem me climax. I could have tied you up and made you watch.” She leant forward then until her lips were against her ear, “I spent most of the night masturbating waiting for you. I’d hoped you would interrupt me. All the things I would have done at your mercy…”

Zelda drew in a breath, nails digging into the woman’s thighs. She could feel herself on the brink of orgasm as it began to tug low inside of her. She squeezed hard against the woman’s fingers, seeing if she could…

“Don’t you wonder how your name sounds my lips? Do you wonder how I sound if you slid inside of me?”

Zelda’s fingers slid higher up the woman’s skirt. “Yes,” she admitted.

“Uh-uh. Hands still. You missed your opportunity, and now you’re mine.” Zelda drew in a breath, holding back something guttural between a whine and a growl. She wanted Lilith. She wanted to make Lilith shiver as she had, to feel her clench around her fingers and moan in her ear. “Say it, say you’re mine.”

Zelda swallowed, softening as the woman the kissed her gently against the throat. She didn’t know what would happen if she didn’t, but she found herself nodding. “I’m yours,” she agreed with a sigh.

Lilith laughed, kissing her throat again as her fingers continued to stroke inside of her, somehow pressing at just the right spots, spreading wide as she continued to draw over her clit with her thumb. “Good girl,” she purred, and Zelda whined, actually whined like a fucking animal as she almost climaxed at that moment. “You’re okay,” Lilith said, “Don’t slip away from me now.” And then Lilith was pulling back again, so her face took up the whole of Zelda’s view.

One hand still buried in Zelda’s underwear, the other stroked at Zelda’s cheek, soothing her. As if she was calming her.

And Zelda shivered at the tenderness. It was a lot if she was honest. Too much, almost. Like Lilith could love her, and that was impossible. She couldn’t love her. She couldn’t. Because if she––

“Look at me,” Lilith urged, eyes holding onto her steady. And then she pressed forward and kissed, and all the noise in Zelda’s head ceased, and there was only Lilith.

And then Lilith was kissing down her throat again, and it was so soft and tender, and Zelda hated how much she craved it, how much she needed it. Was this what people wanted from the girlfriend experience? The feeling of a person’s hands-on your as if they could hold you together.

Lilith’s mouth nipped at her throat as if summoning her thoughts, and Zelda sighed, tilting her head to kiss the bare skin under Lilith’s jaw.

She felt the orgasm coaxed from her and Zelda came clenching around the fingers, nails digging into Lilith’s thighs, but it was softer than she expected. Softer than the other times, and it left her wanting more.

But Lilith’s mouth pressed to hers sweetly, fingers sliding out and Zelda knew that she couldn’t do this. Perhaps the woman was right. Perhaps she did need to see a therapist, because sex didn’t use to leave her feeling like she might break, and yet this woman was able to shatter every defence she built.

“Are you alright?” Lilith asked, and there was a hand stroking her cheek again.

Zelda nodded because she needed to, leaning her head into the hand. After all, it felt nice. She couldn’t say what she really wanted––which was that for the first time, Lilith made her acutely aware of how lonely she was. How much she missed the affection and attention of another person.

But it was too close to saying that she actually liked her, and that, in its self, wasn’t something she could allow.

So she soothed the growing pain, pressing them deep down and brushed her own thoughts away. “Last night you said that you hadn’t barred me from your services, is that true?”

“It is. We can still negotiate; you just need to tell me what you want.”

“I want you to do what you did last night.”

“Caning or discipline?”

“All of it.”

Lilith looked at her as if she was studying her very carefully. “We’ll negotiate it,” she said. “I like playing with you Zelda, but I meant what I said, I think there’s a part of you that’s trying to sabotage yourself, I don’t want to play a part in that.”

“I don’t want to sabotage myself. I want relief. The very first time I engaged your service, you made me feel relaxed in a way I didn’t expect. I want that, I don’t care what I have to do to get that feeling again, but I want that.”

Lilith gave a genuine smile, nodding. “Well, how about next Sunday? I’ll book for two hours with you, and we can sit down and talk in further detail about what you want in a scene, and we can test some things out.”

“I would like that.”

“Of course you would, it’s me,” Lilith said as she manoeuvred in a way to draw herself over Zelda’s thigh, actually showing that she wasn’t wearing any underwear before she slid back into the driver’s seat.

Zelda swallowed, turning and looking at her. “Can I––“

“No,” Lilith said, clicking her seatbelt in place before she turned back and looked at her. “I told you, you missed your chance. Now you have to suffer the consequences.”

Zelda drew in a breath, putting her seatbelt in place before she adjusted her clothes. “I’ll have you know that I’m quite good in bed.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that, but if you want to hear me moan your name in the throes of ecstasy, then you have to work for that privilege.”

Zelda crossed her arms, sitting back in the seat as she tried to ignore the growing arousal between her thighs. She didn’t know how Lilith managed to shift her moods so easily, but now she was back in the same state she’d been before they pulled over. And she was sure Lilith knew it.

Giving a small cough, she looked out of the window, watching the scenery pass her by.

Once they entered the town, she began directing her to home. The woman eventually drove her to the front of the driveway before the Spellman home, pausing to look at Zelda. “Did you want me to drop you off up at the top?”

Zelda sighed. “Perhaps not,” she said. “The last thing I need is Sabrina seeing and asking questions.”

Lilith nodded before reaching into her backseat and pulling out the umbrella. “Take this. You can give it back to me next week then.” Zelda’s fingers brushed over Lilith’s as she took it.

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

Zelda paused, a part of her wanting to lean in and kiss again, but she didn’t. Instead, she unbuckled her seatbelt and climbed out of the car, opening the umbrella. It wasn’t raining nearly as heavy, but she made her away up the loose gravel driveway, listening as Lilith pulled out of the edge of the driveway and returned home.

It was a strange turn of events, and Zelda wasn’t sure of what story she would speak of––as certainly a story would be needed––but decided that that was a problem for later.

Now she would focus on the fact that she needed to get her car out from the forest road, with the only truck she knew belonging to one Mr Harvey Kinkle. Perhaps if she raised the issue with Sabrina, she would offer to help out, and it would be a learning experience for them all.

Zelda opened the front door of the manor, setting the umbrella aside. She could smell the faint perfume of Lilith on her and hoped that it wasn’t so prominent that her family would also smell it. But as she made her way through the house, it seemed to be that everyone was out.

She trailed through the kitchen, dining room and parlour, glancing in her own office before making her way upstairs.

On the way to her room, she noticed Ambrose seeming to sneak out of his room, which only caused her to pause, watching as he quietly pressed the door shut and turned on his heel and faced her, surprise washing over his face as he tugged his robe close.

“Auntie!” He yelped. “Hello.”

“Ambrose,” she said, looking him over. “Do you have a guest over?”

“Ah, yes,” he admitted shyly. “Luke and I…were studying last night and happened to––“

“Studying?” she echoed dubiously.

Ambrose flushed before he paused and looked to her. “And where were you, last night?”

“My car was bogged and the river flooded, I was stuck on the other side of town,” she said, lifting her eyebrows to make her point.

“And I suppose that’s why you have a hickey on your collar bone.” Zelda looked down, trying to see if she could spot the mark on her neck only for Ambrose to laugh, making his point clear. “As I suspect. I’m pleased, Auntie. It’s been a while since you looked happy.”

“Happy?” she scoffed. “I don’t know what you think is going on, but I assure you that it’s not that.”

“Mm, well. I’m going to drop downstairs and make breakfast for my study companion. You should get some sleep. It looks like something kept you up.”

Zelda drew in a breath, crossing her arms. There was no point in defending herself, Ambrose may be using incorrect evidence to draw his conclusion, but it wasn’t far off its mark and she’d rather her family suspect a relationship than being concerned about what she was truly getting up to.

Following her nephew’s advice, she went to bed to sleep for only an hour or so before she got up and showered, doing her hair and completing her make-up as she came downstairs. The rain had stopped, but the skies remained grey, and the air was cold as she came out to the veranda with a cigarette and cup of tea, coming to stand beside Ambrose who was sitting outside with a book.

“Your friend has left?”

“Had some essay to complete,” he said, before turning to eye her. Zelda didn’t miss the way he studied her, as if looking for something before he turned back to his book. “I’ve requested to speak to Prudence,” he said.

“Oh?”

“You’re right. It’s time I cleared the air. I don’t wish to pursue whatever this might be with Luke if I’m still uncertain as to where I stand with her.”

Zelda drew the cigarette to her lips thoughtfully, feeling the nicotine rush through her lungs. “Did she ever mention Professor Blackwood to you?”

“Blackwood? No. Should she have?”

Zelda drew the cigarette to her mouth again, letting her thoughts wander over what Constance had said, the frantic state she was in about Faustus’ emotions pulling away. She had noticed on a few occasions that he seemed deeper in thought than usual but had placed it down to administrative tasks weighing over him heavily. Faustus had eyes on becoming the Dean eventually, and was often taking on tasks and projects that would reflect well on him should the Dean suddenly drop dear.

“No,” she answered. “I just know that she’s trying to get the position for next year in Faustus’ study.”

“Is she? She was entirely uninterested last semester,” he commented, “even joked as far to say it was a complete waste of school fundings, but I suppose opinions can change.”

Zelda flicked the ash of the cigarette, feeling the thoughts swirl. Did it matter, was it even her concern? Whatever he was doing to destroy his own marriage was between him and Constance, and her own involvement would likely only make matters worse, or reflect poorly on her.

And yet, she couldn’t help but recall how frantic Constance had been, how certain of an affair was going on despite how she mused otherwise.

A car pulled up into the driveway, and Zelda watched as her niece jumped out of the passenger side, waving goodbye to one of her friends as she made her way into the home. She seemed to step on the porch and then look to Zelda, noticing that she was there for the first time. “Aunt Zee,” she greeted.

Zelda’s eyes narrowed suspiciously as Sabrina adjusted her bag on her shoulder, looking…guilty about something.

“Sabrina, I take it you’re safe and well.”

“I am,” she said. “Aunt Hilda said you got caught on the other side of the river. Did you have to stay the night at the office?”

Zelda drew the cigarette to her lips, considering lying, but it would only make it difficult when it came to the fact that her car was bogged. “No,” she answered, “I tried to come through on the forest roads and ended up getting bogged. I’ll need to ask one of your friends’ a favour.”

“You should ask Theo’s father. He has a thing for you, you know?” Sabrina said, with a sweet smile.

Zelda’s brows rose at the comment as she snuffed out the cigarette. “Perhaps, I shall. Could you enquire with Theo?”

Sabrina nodded and ran off inside the house. Zelda sighed, listening to her steps recede upstairs.

“Was anyone home last night?”

“Aunt Hilda was until rather late,” Ambrose advise. “Advised she needed to help out at the bookshop as apparently the roof caved in and was starting to flood the storage.”

Zelda gave a small laugh to herself. While the excuse likely had some valid merit, she suspected that whoever the owner was may have had other intentions, and given that it was lunchtime and her sister was decidedly not home, that had come to fruition.

“So if you were bogged on the forest road,” Ambrose said. “Where did you seek shelter for the night?”

Zelda picked up her coffee, putting out the cigarette in the ashtray. “And why are you so curious? For all you know, I sought shelter in my car.”

Ambrose smiled, digging his nose into the book, knowing not to push further. Nonetheless, Zelda found herself amused rather than annoyed by his enquiry as she made her way to the office. She set her coffee down on the desk and then rolled her shoulders, still feeling the effects of the lack of sleep roll over her.

The nap had helped, but not much.

Not to mention that despite the shower, she could still smell Lilith’s perfume on her. Not to mention that every movement she made ached where the cane had struck her, all of it acting as a reminder to Lilith’s words, telling her that she waited for her to come upstairs.

Clicking her computer on, she reviewed through her emails. There was nothing of interest outside of usual administrative work. Students trying to beg for extensions, staff requesting assistance in the location of missing personalised mugs, and a few status updates from Faustus, as well as the Dean about other departments.

Zelda clicked through them, organising her emails and returned to working on her lesson plans. Since her computer had been wiped, she had begun compiling new books to help with her article but had overall left it to be while she worked on her current workload. It brought an annoyance to her at the fact that she was behind on her self-made deadlines, but it would have to be something that she just let go.

“Aunt Zee?” Sabrina asked, knocking on the doorframe. “I’ve spoken to Theo, and he’s agreed to ask his dad for help. They’ll be around later this afternoon.”

“Thank you, Sabrina. Did Theo happen to mention what his father would like in thanks for helping?”

Her niece smirked. “Perhaps a date,” she enquired. “After all, you mentioned that you’re not seeing anyone lately, right?”

Zelda’s eyes flicked up, over the monitor to glance at her niece. “I’m not,” she assured. “Despite that, however, it still does not mean that I have time to be sitting around dating others.”

Sabrina shrugged. “Doesn’t have to be dating, you could just go out for a few drinks and see if you like each other.”

Zelda sighed, returning to her work. “I’ll think about it,” she advised, having no such plan even to consider it. She stood firm with her opinion that she had no interest in dating, furthermore to the point, her current needs were being met quite well.

Sabrina made a soft humming noise as if she was trying to make a point before she disappeared, laughing. Zelda wasn’t sure as to what she was up to but was concerned that it was mischief. She still had no clue as to what Sabrina did on that sleepover a few weekends back, and as of late, her niece was becoming all the more secretive.

She still didn’t think that Sabrina had moved her relationship with Harvey to the next level. Still, there was a strangeness to the way Sabrina acted, that had she been more concerned, would have to lead her to believe that perhaps Sabrina was getting involved in something she shouldn’t, such as the local gang.

But she pushed the thought aside. If Sabrina were in trouble, she’d reach out to either herself or Ambrose, and Ambrose, in turn, would reach out to her, and she would solve it.

“Sabrina?” she called.

Her niece came back, head ducking around the corner. “Yes, Auntie?”

“Did you need help building your CV?”

“No, already done. I got a job at the bookshop with Aunt Hilda.”

Zelda paused, looking up at Sabrina as she felt a strange twist in her stomach. “Oh?”

“Just for Thursdays and Saturdays,” Sabrina said. “Promise it won’t interfere with everything else.”

“Excellent, I pleased you’ll be working so hard.”

Sabrina nodded before leaving, while Zelda felt her stomach turn. If she was working with Hilda, she suspected that very little work would get done. Sabrina’s friends would likely visit, and Sabrina would spend all of her time speaking with them, only occasionally doing any of her work.

Zelda looked away, drawing in a breath. She shouldn’t think so harshly on niece, after all, it was still an opportunity for responsibility. And if she were fired fro her first job by Hilda or her boss, then all the better, Sabrina would learn that she couldn’t coast through life, hoping that her general charm would save her.

Zelda’s nail ran over the office desk before she returned to her lesson planning, building her lessons for the next few weeks.

She drafted an email to Faustus, enquiring as to Shirley, before scrapping it entirely, knowing that it came off too contrived. She drafted an email to Prudence then, setting a time to go over everything on Monday, before recalling that Monday she had a meeting booked in with Elspeth for the extension she requested.

Zelda drew back, pulling out her planner to flick through it. Her week was excessively full, from classes to meetings, to Sabrina’s school sports and Lilith (with she penned as a meeting for funding, given that she didn’t expect to do any such thing for some time).

Closing her eyes, she felt a wave of nausea roll over her from all the work she was doing. She was exhausted. Utterly exhausted and now her coffee was cold.

Draining the cup, she stood up and held her position as a rush of dizziness washed over her. Perhaps she should poke through the kitchen for something to eat as well, given that it was well past lunchtime.

She moved to the kitchen, looking through the cupboards and discovering biscuits that Hilda had made before she made her self a new pot of coffee as someone else came up the driveway of their home.

Zelda peered through the window, noticing the truck and felt a strange twist in her stomach. She didn’t know why, but seeing the Putnams here made her feel awkward like she was doing the wrong thing.

Eating the cookies, she made her way outside and watched as both Theo and Mr Putnam got out of the car.

Theo walked up, dressed like a much more petite version of his father and dug his hands into his pockets. There was still a cut healing on his cheek and lip, but he otherwise looked well, providing a bright smile on his face. “Ms Spellman,” he said.

She nodded. “How’s school?”

Theo shrugged in a similar way that Sabrina was starting to and Zelda felt her stomach clench, wondering if the bullying was getting worse. As she understood, they had a few more weeks left of their community service since the fight but had thankfully been split from the bullies.

“Sabrina mentioned your car got bogged on the forest road,” Theo said as his father came up behind him.

Looking to Joe Putnam, she raised her eyes briefly in greeting, giving a short nod, before returning to look at Theo. “I did. I tried to brave the old roads when the river flooded across the highway but ended up stuck.”

“As I recall, you used to brave those roads when you were young, too.”

Zelda laughed at the words, raising her eyes to look at Joe. That was certainly a flashback. “I did,” she agreed. “But not through a storm like last night’s, which is probably why it’s my first time being bogged on that road.”

“Do you know which road?”

“I do, I was coming up from the university and was planning to cut through the one that comes out just beyond the house, there,” she said, pointing to where there was an opening coming out onto the highway. Joe looked behind him, studying it before giving a nod. “I’ll take you if you like.”

“Can Sabrina come?” Theo asked. “We’ve never pulled out a bogged car.”

Zelda nodded, amused as she watched Theo run inside, likely to look for Sabrina upstairs, in her room.

It left her alone with Joe, allowing silence to slip between them until he grinned at her. “You look nice, Zelda.”

“Thank you, as do you,” she said, meaning it honestly. His clothes were ironed, his hair combed. He looked well, far better than in the early years of the loss of his wife. “How’s the business going?”

“As well as it can. Most of my money comes from wedding destinations these days, looking to rent out the land for their authentic view,” he sighed, digging his hands into his pockets. The town was struggling. It seemed that all the tourists had upped and left, and there were less and fewer people coming through.

Though the opposite couldn’t be said for Riverdale, which seemed to be having stranger and stranger murders, making them quite the tourist destination for a particular group of people.

Zelda turned on her heel, inviting Joe inside and pouring him a cup of coffee as Sabrina came down the stairs, dressed in her familiar red jacket and patent headband. Both she and Theo looked mischievous, and if Zelda were to place her thumb onto it, she would suspect that they were trying to set them up.

She wasn’t sure why all of a sudden they were trying to set the two of them together––and certainly she would have expected them both to be too old to do it––however there was little else that could explain their secret glances as they glance between her and Joe, holding back giggles.

After coffee, she grabbed her jacket and handbag, following Joe outside to his car and climbed inside. The interior was mud splattered on the floor, but she noticed that the seats had been cleaned, and there was otherwise nothing else to be concerned about.

She took her seat, buckling up the seatbelt and watched as Joe, Theo and Sabrina did the same before she began directing as to where her car was.

The truck bounced along the road far better than her sedan had, and Zelda noticed a great number of potholes and puddles that would have had her car bogged again, had she managed to get out of the second lot.

When they arrived, Zelda gave a brief look to her, confirming that its contents were still in place and then stepped aside to watch as Joe explained to Sabrina and Theo both what to do if they ever found themselves bogged.

He pulled out pieces of flat wood, setting them in front of the bogged tire, digging it underneath to allowing the car to drive out.

And then Zelda got into her car, turning the engine on before she slowly accelerated. The wheel did not move forward, due to not finding any traction. She paused, setting it back in park and climbed out.

“You did a good job,” he advised.

She nodded, arms folding as he dug through the mud, adjusting the plank of wood before directing her to try it again.

Zelda obeyed, getting back in the car, placing it into gear and trying to accelerate over the piece of wood slowly. Again, it didn’t work, and Mr Putnam sighed, before digging into the back of the truck. “Looks like we’re going to have to do this a bit more forcefully then.”

Pulling out chains, he tied them to the front of Zelda’s car, and then to the back of his own, before directing Zelda to put the car into neutral.

Zelda obeyed and watched as Theo and Sabrina stepped out of the way, seeming to share more than a few laughs.

If Zelda was honest with herself, there was a time where she may have considered dating Joe again. But their history was so far gone, that she doubted either one of them truly wanted to dig it up.

With ease, he pulled the car out, and Zelda felt a sigh of relief. Her car was no longer bogged. Now she just needed to be careful not to do it again as she drove along behind the Putnams.

Sabrina slid into the passenger beside her, buckling her seatbelt in place as she tossed a knowing smirk to her. “That was very helpful of Mr Putnam,” Sabrina advised. “And it was good that he became prepared.”

“Quite,” Zelda advised shortly, putting the car into the drive as she slowly drove behind them.

Sabrina fiddled with the radio before sitting back against the seat as a local station played. “You know, Jesse passed recently.”

“I am aware.”

“Mr Putnam has been quite lonely since losing Jesse.”

“Has he?” Zelda said. “Perhaps he should look at dating someone who has the time to share that emotional grief,” she turned and looked back at Sabrina with a steady look. “I don’t know why you’ve gotten into your head that he and I are a match, but I assure you, Sabrina, we are not.”

“You would be,” she insisted. “He’s a nice man, he works hard, and he likes his own company, so you two would be perfect for each other.”

“Sabrina, he and I are well acquainted. We used to know each other back when I first returned to Greendale.”

Sabrina didn’t seem surprised by this information, which made her all the more aware of Sabrina’s motives. Her dear niece likely thought herself a champion for them. Reuniting two long lost loves, but the truth was far from that.

“Why did you break-up?”

“We weren’t formally dating,” Zelda said, going over a bump. The radio cut out briefly and seemed to return, crackling as they drove around the winding path. “And we fell distant because he met someone else and I had no interest in pursuing anything serious.”

“Have you ever?”

“Pursued something seriously,” she paused, thinking back to her partners. Certainly, she’d had long term relationships. There’d been offers of marriages and her own acceptance before eventually, they ended up breaking up inevitably before the wedding for one reason or another. Once upon a time, she’d thought herself cursed.

The truth was, she knew she wasn’t someone pleasant to be around. She was cold and withdrawn, preferred her own company, placed her work over everything else and found things like romantic anniversaries enjoyable, but overall unimportant.

“No,” she said, “But things change.”

“Did you ever want your own children?”

“I have you and Ambrose.”

“But we’re not your children,” Sabrina advised. And although her niece did not intend to be unkind, the pain still struck her heart. She’d raised and provided for them both, soothed their fevers and kissed their scrapes and bruises. But Sabrina was right. She would never be their mother, no matter what she did.

“No,” she lied. “I didn’t want my own children.”

“But when Constance had us look after Leticia–“

“What is with the questions, Sabrina?” She snapped, hating the painful reminder of Leticia. “What on earth are you trying to get at it?”

“You’re not happy,” Sabrina said. “You’re not happy with me or Ambrose or Hilda, or the house. You don’t like your job. And for a while, it seemed like maybe you’d found someone, but you’re insistent that you haven’t, so…” Sabrina sighed, “I don’t know, I just want you to be happy.”

“Having someone in your life doesn’t necessarily make you happy,” Zelda advised. “Have you ever considered the fact that I’ve chosen a life outside of a partner because that’s what I want?”

“But Mr Putnam is nice, and he said––“

“He may say a many great amount of things, but it doesn’t mean I share the same sentiment. We parted a long time ago, long before you were born for reasons that have long since ceased to matter. I went to college and came back, and he was married, and I didn’t care, Sabrina. If I truly cared for him, that would have been something that would have mattered.”

Sabrina shifted in the seat, watching as they came out to the highway. “You’re both so lonely, so I thought…”

“I understand you’re intentions, but I will ask this only once of you. Do not interfere with my love life. I am happy to be where I am. I have a family, work-life. There’s little else I require.”

“What about friends?”

Zelda paused there, “I have colleagues I consider friends.”

“Constance?”

Zelda drew in a deep breath, feeling the pain wash over her. “Yes, Constance and I are friends.”

“Why don’t you want to talk about what happened? It was only six months ago.”

“Because I don’t know how I feel,” she answered honestly, turning to look at Sabrina briefly before returning her eyes to the road. “I don’t know how I should feel, except happy that Constance was able to move past that difficult part of her life.”

Sabrina went quiet and didn’t push any further, for which Zelda was relieved.

Pulling up in front of the Spellman house, she watched as the Putnam’s pulled up behind her––likely with Joe having gone through a similar insistence from his son to push them together.

As he climbed out of the truck with a tired look on his face, it softened as he looked at her. Zelda smiled despite herself before looking away. She had missed him in some ways, and seeing Theo and Sabrina grow to be best friends had felt right. A way for them to connect after losing touch for so long, though an awkwardness had always remained with them.

“Did you want to stay for dinner?” Sabrina asked Theo before turning and looking back at Zelda mischievously.

Zelda tried not to feel the frustration roll over her. Her niece intended well, she knew that, but it was nonetheless frustrating that she’d only just mentioned to her niece not to interfere and here she was, interfering because the two of them had shared eye contact.

“If we weren’t intruding,” Joe said.

“Of course not,” Zelda advised, “Theo and Sabrina can help Hilda.”

They headed inside, and she was thankful to see Joe remove his muddied boots at the door, leaving them aside. Theo and Sabrina followed doing the same, whereas Zelda shifted one pair of shoes for another, not wishing to walk through her house without appropriate shoes on.

She led them all to the dining room, directing Theo and Sabrina to wash-up before she made a pot of tea, setting aside some of Hilda’s biscuits.

She had seen Hilda’s car parked on their return and knew she was home. Likely, her sister would be coming down soon to set-up, and when she did, the children could help to prepare the meal with whatever she had planned.

Taking the tea to the parlour, she set it down, pouring herself and Joe a cup before she reclined to her seat. Mr Putnam took his tea politely, with a biscuit. And for a horrifying moment, Zelda wondered if he was going to try and dunk the biscuit into the tea before he seemed to change his mind just nibble on it.

“Did you make these?” he inquired.

“No, Hilda did.”

He seemed to smile to himself. “She could always bake,” he said. “Even when we were young, she used to bake with your grandmother.”

Zelda nodded. She didn’t remember Hilda baking much when she was younger, but she supposed she’d often been too busy either galavanting around with other local teenagers or sticking her nose in a book to notice. “Did you spend much time with Hilda?”

“When I used to wait for you, I did. You used to promise to meet me at your home and then you would turn up an hour later.”

Ah, that Zelda did recall. Joe had been a good man, even young. He’d been good and kind. And she had probably used that for her own gain more than once, flattered by his interest in her. She’d never intended to hurt him, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t selfish.

“Theo and Sabrina have been less than obvious,” he advised, breaking the silence.

“I’ve noticed,” she agreed. “Sabrina especially seems quite insistent.” Setting her cup of tea down, she smoothed the creases in her dress. “I don’t want to mislead you. I’m not interested in a relationship.”

“I know. You never were.”

“What on earth does that mean?”

He paused, coughing awkwardly as he set the cup down on its saucer and set it on the coffee table before him. “Just that you were always independent. You preferred your own company—it’s not a critique, it’s just you. You’re…” cold, she could see he was trying to avoid the word, but she’d had too many partners throw it at her. “Unbound by that desire,” he ended on.

Zelda felt a laugh rise in her throat. If only you knew. “I suppose,” she answered. There was a pang of discomfort, raw wounds she long since thought healed seemed to feel like a new skin, not unlike the very welts she could feel recovering.

And with that, her thoughts returned to Lilith.

Zelda looked away, feeling a flush creep up her throat. The last thing that she wanted was for Joe to notice her arousal flooding across her. It’d been over two decades since they were together, but her skin hardly hid the flush.

She closed her eyes, trying to move her thoughts away to something else, imaging something of more substance before she opened her eyes to find Mr Putnam staring into his cup of tea. “And what of you?” she inquired. “I haven’t noticed you dating anyone since the loss of your wife.”

He looked tired, truly tired, and for the first time, Zelda was reminded of their age. She remembered Theo’s mother. Angelina had been an out of towner. A lovely, round-faced woman who had always looked like she was on the verge of bursting into laughter.

And how Joe had looked at her like she was the whole world.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Too old for the theatrics of it all, and I know most of the town's occupants.”

She nodded, that was certainly true enough. “It’s difficult,” she agreed. “And it’s not easy to meet anyone when you stay on the farm.”

“No,” he agreed. “And Jesse was ill for so long…” he said before tiredly reclining, a look of grief crossing over his face.

A part of Zelda wanted to reach out and assure that it was okay, but they weren’t old friends. They were barely acquaintances now. Their children were friends.

“Do you remember when Jesse would chase after us when we were to the river?”

“He could never take a hint,” he said. “Always wanted to involve himself.”

“He taught me to fish better than you did.”

At that, he smiled, and Zelda felt a hum of something old and nostalgic, remembering as she pulled the fish from the line and both men had jumped around her, utterly surprised in her ability to unhook and then gut the fish.

“You give him too much credit. You were always better at those things than any of the boys. You had them lining up.”

Zelda smiled wistfully, remembering the time. Both in school and out of school, she’d occasionally date a man or woman who would look her over and make certain presumptions about her. It was always fun to pretend she had no idea how to do anything like survive in the wilderness, and then to show them that not only could she hunt, but she was a better shot than anyone with a gun.

Not that she’d needed use of one in a long time.

“I wanted to speak to you about a few weeks back,” he said, “Sabrina’s been standing up for Theo since he’s come back. Done lots of research and shared it around between not just his friends, but teachers and even family. It means a lot to see that she loves him so much.”

Zelda smiled, “She has a good heart,” she agreed. “Kinder than I ever did.”

“You have your own kindness. It might not be formative actions, but you never let anyone hurt Hilda. Remember when Blossom once tried––“

“Push her in the river?” She laughed. “Oh yes, I quite remembering enacting that particular revenge.” She hummed at the memory. It’d been a long time ago, but the redheaded bitch had it coming. “Helped that she was from Riverdale’s side too.”

“She was jealous of you. You had her boyfriend wrapped around your finger.”

“As if that was difficult,” she scoffed. “He…” and then she trailed off, remembering other things. “Well, I suppose he just wanted someone who wasn’t going to kick him when he was down.”

Putnam nodded, softly to himself before he looked away, tracing the cup before taking a sip. “Are you happy, Zelda?”

“Happy?” she scoffed. “Of course, I am. I have everything I want.”

He nodded. “I’m glad,” he said.

There was something there, and if she pressed at it, she might find out what he was digging at. But she couldn’t tell if it was for himself or her, and if it was for her, she didn’t want him getting any closer to it.

Setting her tea down, she made the excuse of checking on Hilda and toed around to the kitchen, through to the greenhouse where she could Hide softly speaking to Theo and Sabrina both.

“What are you up to?” she inquired, looking them both over suspiciously.

Theo turned on his heel, looking oddly suspicious, but Sabrina and Hilda both took no notice of it. “Just looking over the garden,” Hilda advised. “Little Theo’s got a science project coming up, and I was just suggesting––“

“That perhaps it was time to start dinner?” Zelda interrupted. “I’m sure whatever you’re up to can wait until after then?”

Sabrina’s mouth pressed into a line, but she had the decency to hold it back.

“Of course, love,” Hilda advised. “I was going to make a shepherd’s pie if that’s alright with you?”

“Sounds perfectly fine,” she advised. Though in truth, she would prefer something of more speed to cook.

As it was, she managed to be saved by Ambrose coming down and joining in the conversation with her and Hoe, having suddenly taken an interest in agriculture, he enquired at to Joe’s work, freeing Zelda’s mind from polite conversation.

If she was perfectly honest with herself, the exhaustion of last night weighed heavily on her, and the tea seemed to be doing little to keep her awake. Even when they were summoned for dinner, she poured alcohol for the adults, pointedly refusing Sabrina a glass of wine (though usually, she didn’t mind her occasionally having half a glass on the weekend with an appropriate meal, but given that Hoe was unlikely to approve the same for Theo, it wasn’t fair to place him an awkward situation).

The conversation drifted across the table, with Hilda and Ambrose both discussing classes with Theo, which was all fine and well until Zelda’s ears pricked at the mention of, “––Principle Wardwell.”

Zelda looked to Theo; her eyes hovering over the boy as she tried to trace back what the conversation had been regarding. School, no doubt, but it what context?

“She’s been putting a firm foot down towards bullying, reminding them of Baxter High’s zero tolerance,” Sabrina said in response, giving enough to provide context, “but I don’t know if it was fair about the community service. They’re bullies, big bullies, and she gave them all the same service as us when they started it.”

Sabrina’s expression turned hot.

“Principle Wardwell did?” Zelda inquired.

“Yeah. And it wasn’t like there was any point. She had them working some service for the aged cared centre, whereas we worked with the grade school. I doubt they learned anything from it.”

“It’s funny,” Joe advised. “Because when the other parents and I were speaking to her, she had negotiated them down to a week’s suspension for everyone. And then you came into the room.”

Zelda took her glass of wine in grip, taking a sip. “Quite,” she advised. “It was hardly fair that Sabrina was punished for that.”

“Well she still punished us equally,” Sabrina advised.

Zelda felt the flush warm her face, “Not true,” she advised hoarsely before clearing her voice. “As it was, I couldn’t allow a suspension on your record. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t remain on theirs, but I did my best.”

Joe gave her a strange look across the table. “So you negotiated her down?”

Zelda nodded. “I made it clear that while fighting should not be tolerated. There was some merit to what occurred. Though I understand that one of the boys was hospitalised?”

“He broke his leg,” Sabrina advised, “and that wasn’t our fault. We got into a fight, but when we did, one of his friends accidentally knocked him back down the stairs. It’s…how the fight stopped” she admitted. “We didn’t keep fighting.”

Zelda nodded, knowing already that had it been otherwise, Lilith would have advised her. “Anyway, the matter’s solved. Your service is nearly completed.”

Sabrina shrugged, as if unsatisfied by this, but didn’t say anything else to the matter. She looked at Theo with a strange look as she sipped her water. Again, Zelda found herself suspicious of the shared looks, wondering if there was a deeper meaning to it, but placed it aside. She couldn’t go around, convinced that Sabrina was up to no good because of secretive looks with friends.

There was plenty of other reasons to be suspicious.

“Well, Wardwell certainly has the PTA under wraps. Completely cut them down when they tried to raise some complaints about inappropriate outfits been worn to school,” Hilda advised, chuckling to herself. “Started enquiring if she should start measuring the same thing on the boys too, and wasn’t that an uproar.”

Zelda’s brows rose. Lilith seemed determined to make enemies everywhere it seemed, attacking the PTA and teachers in defence of the children. It would certainly make her look like a tyrant to them, and likely have their attention zero in on her, if she wasn’t careful.

She refrained from commenting as such, not wishing to ruin dinner as Theo began excitedly recounting Wardwell-telling-off-Craven story that Sabrina had previously advised.

Again, Zelda was reminded that the woman seemed unfazed by the enemies she was creating. She was still only a rather recent Principle, and Zelda doubted that her position was so written in stone that if a select group of teachers and parents complained, she would come out of it unscathed. The best scenario would be that she was requested to leave her post. Worst would be a parent or teacher digging into her personal life to find dirt on her.

And it wasn’t that difficult, given that she was actively moonlighting as a Dominatrix.

Zelda shifted on the seat, reminded (rather painfully) that if that were to occur, she would be caught in the middle as well.

Perhaps she should…

Who was she kidding, she wasn’t going to stop. She already longed to see her again. At the moment, it was one of the few things in her life that she enjoyed privately.

She looked across the table, sipping her wine to see Joe looking at her curiously before his eyes darted away.

Drawing her attention back to the conversation, Zelda tried to quell the anxiety in her stomach. Even after eating dinner, she was still feeling unwell. Perhaps she needed an early night.

#lilith #zelda spellman #zelith #madam spellman #caos fanfic

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aleeciawalsh · 4 years ago

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Aleecia Walsh | How to Choose a Personal Life Coach

Aleecia Walsh | With increasing regularity nowadays, I find myself getting enquiries from people asking how they should go about choosing a life coach.

Of course, being in the business of training people to be great life coaches, I find it very gratifying to know that the demand for personal coaching services is growing rapidly in my native South Africa. But it’s hardly surprising, given the unquestionable power that coaching has to transform lives.

A few years ago, while I was still in corporate life, the concept of executive coaching was gaining in popularity. Companies felt it entirely appropriate to hire coaches for their most senior executives and even some of their middle managers in important roles. After all, the benefits of even a small improvement in divisional performance would render the cost of coaching quite trivial.

The rise of personal coaching | Aleecia Walsh

Until comparatively recently, personal coaching – or life coaching – was largely the domain of wealthy celebrities in the US. Nowadays, many people around the world are enjoying the benefits of having their own personal coach to assist them in achieving what might otherwise remain poorly defined and elusive goals and dreams.

How to choose?

The law of supply and demand dictates that as the demand for personal coaching services rises, so will the supply. The key question, then, for many individuals already convinced of the benefits of coaching, is: “How do I choose the coach that’s just right for me?”

My advice would be to make your choice in four simple steps, applying four ‘filters’ to ensure you get the best match for you.

1. Demographic matching | Aleecia Walsh

The first and relatively easy step is what I call “matching the demographics”.

If you’re set on face-to-face coaching then you’ll need someone who you can reach within a reasonable traveling distance. Now, before I move on, let me assure you that being coached by telephone (Skype is very popular for those with broadband internet because it is a free service) is an option that you should not discount lightly. Believe it or not there are actually a number of benefits to being coached by ‘phone – but that’s a topic for a separate article.

If you work best with people of your own – or the opposite – gender, then this too will influence your choice.

There are many excellent, vibrant and surprisingly wise young coaches around, but you may feel uncomfortable with having a coach who is half your age. Alternatively, as a young person, you might prefer to have a coach that has extensive life experience to draw on; someone who’s ‘been there and done that’!

Coaching fees come into the equation too, of course. But if possible, I would encourage you not to restrict the field by applying this filter right up front.

Look past the advertised fees, if you can. Find the ideal match using the steps I have outlined and then negotiate with your preferred coach if you need to, to fit your budget.

Many coaches are negotiable and some will offer substantial discounts if the client is prepared to pay for the entire coaching program in advance. My advice is to look at what you will pay over, say six months, and then consider how worthwhile that will be if you achieve one or two of your most desired goals.

2. Niche matching | Aleecia Walsh

The next step is more difficult. I call it “matching the niche”.

Let me ask you this: If you own a house that is built out of timber on the side of a steep hill and you decide to add an extension with an overhanging deck, who would you be more likely to contract with; a general builder – or a builder who specializes in timber homes and cantilevered decking?

When you hire a life coach, you generally do so with a knowledge of the key issues or areas of your life you specifically want to focus on improving. And it may well be that you’ll find a life coach whose specialist niche matches perfectly.

I recommend to all coaches who want to build substantial and self-sustaining practices that they choose a niche market based on their underlying skills and passionate interests.

I know of life coaches who have been very successful focusing on niches like ‘personal empowerment’, ‘intimate relationships’, ‘self-confidence’, ‘youth development’, ‘career building’, ‘retirement’, ‘financial freedom’, ‘childbirth’, and so on.

3. Skills matching

OK, so once you’ve decided on a rough demographic profile of your ideal coach and the niche (if any) that you fall into, you can move on to step 3. I call this “matching the skills”, although this is about more than just skills.

Remember that there is, at least currently, no form of regulation governing the coaching ‘profession’ in South Africa, or, for that matter, most developed countries.

To my mind this is a good thing in that there are no barriers to entry into an industry where having a passion for people and a gift for helping others achieve their dreams is far more important than a raft of high-falluting academic qualifications.

On the other hand it is also a bad thing in that any ‘Tom’, ‘Dick’ or ‘Harriet’ can write ‘coach’ on his or her business card and set up in practice without necessarily having the skills, techniques, experience and structure required to back up their coaching.

Now, I firmly believe that good quality life coaches are self-selecting. As a life coach you won’t survive long in business without good word-of-mouth endorsements and client testimonials. You’re either really effective at helping people transform their lives – or you’re not!

And this is my point. Always ask any prospective coach for testimonials or references – and check them out. Ask the coach where and in what method they have been trained. Ask to see their certification and do some research on the coach training provider to check their reputation.

How passionate are the coaches you are considering about the calling they have chosen? Are they registered with any body that promotes ongoing coach development? Do they subscribe to any relevant code of ethics?

4. Vibrational matching | Aleecia Walsh

The final step is, I think, the most important of all. I call it “matching the vibration”.

Choosing the ‘right’ (as opposed to ‘good’) coach is, arguably, a more important decision than choosing the ‘right’ doctor or dentist. Whereas a ‘good’ doctor will make the correct diagnosis and prescribe effective medication without necessarily doing it in a way that has you warming to him or her, a ‘good’ coach (i.e. a well trained, equipped and ethical coach) with whom you are unable to build a great rapport, will be unlikely to do much for you.

Rapport is vital to the coaching relationship. Establishing an emotional bond with your coach based on mutual liking and respect, trust, and belief in each other, is the foundation for the achievement of great things through coaching.

Great coaches will have that something special that allows them to empower their clients to go well beyond the normal and yet still be compassionate and caring in their approach.

How do you establish whether there’s a ‘vibrational match’ with your coach? Great coaches worth their salt will offer a free first session that may range from a basic introduction to a client assessment to a full blown goal-setting session in some cases. This is a great opportunity to see if you and your coach are an ideal match.

Coaches need coaches | Aleecia Walsh

A final thought. If you’ve ever doubted the power of coaching, think about this. Every great coach will tell you that the one thing crucial to their success is having their own personal coach!

#Aleecia Walsh

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mgares · 4 years ago

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HOW TO BUY A HOUSE - IN 3 EASY STEPS

There is a lot of confusion out there about how to become a Homeowner so I thought I would take a moment and put it into Average Joe speak. That, and in my experience, some people go about it totally backwards which is counter productive to the end goal.

STEP 1. - ASSESS YOUR FINANCES

This is fairly simple. Eliminate non-essentials from your spending budget and stick it in the piggy bank. Modify spending habits to generate savings. Make short-term lifestyle changes.

It's just temporary and if canceling monthly memberships (Netflix, Gyms, Any Subscriptions), adjusting your shopping habits [I got some great tips for this], or eliminating other non-essential spending allows you to keep more money in your pocket to get a home versus flushing rent dollars down the proverbial toilet? Bit of a no-brainer if you ask me.

Bottom line is you have to have money ready-to-hand for the transaction. Even with the "zero down" options like VA and some USDA loans; just to name a couple.

There are inspections, appraisals, escrow funds, repairs, home warranty policies, property taxes, closing costs, and other such considerations that must be paid in order to get a home of your own.

"Do Not Save What Is Left After Spending; Instead Spend What is Left After Saving" - Warren Buffett

Figure out what kind of a down payment your financial situation will allow for. The more, the better, but very few people I know got 20% of the purchase price [a.k.a. - conventional/bank loan] sitting around collecting dust. Good news is you don't necessarily have to have that much.

One of the most common loans is a FHA that only asks for 3-5% down AND there are down payment assistance programs out there if you are really Stuck Like Chuck when it comes to finances. NOTE: This does NOT mean they are going to give you ALL of your down payment; you gotta have some chips in that poker game too.

I like to recommend that people shoot for at least 6-8% of the purchase price of the "kind of home they want" just to make sure all the bases are covered - down payment AND cost(s) of the transaction. Folks, that's a lesser down payment than Owner Finance options for the same "kind of home" as Owners generally ask for 10-15% down.

This total can be a combination of self-savings, down payment assistance, assets that can be used as collateral against the loan, monetary or tangible gifts from friends/family members in some few cases, and more.

Each person is unique and different in how that 6-8% manifests and lenders can vary in what form(s) of down payment they will accept.

EXAMPLE:

Purchase Price: $150k

FHA Down Pymt (3-5%): $4,500 - $7,500

Other Cost(s): (3% +/-): $4,500

Total Savings Needed: $9,000 - $12,000

Kill some bills, sell your "junk" - we all got crap laying around the house we don't use worth money in various amounts - and modify spending habits in a positive manner.

If you are a two car family... can you get by with just one vehicle on a temporary basis [turn that car, and its bills, "into" a house]? Perhaps you have a skill set or piece of equipment that can earn you extra cash here and there on your terms? What changes to your lifestyle can you make that will put another dime or dollar into that kitty bucket?

Finally, do whatever it is you need to do to put those greenbacks into a savings method you can stick with. Whether that is a traditional banking institution or an old shoe box under the bed; you do you. If this means you have to ask someone in a position of trust to hold it so you don't spend it? Guess what you should consider doing?

STEP 2. - TALK TO LENDERS

Let's talk about the "When" of contacting a lender. The only true answer to "When" is... When You Are Ready and only you know how Ready you feel.

I've had clients express the sheer dread they felt about reaching out to a lender and it's an understandable fear. One of my people even said that they felt applying to lenders and having them see their credit condition was akin to stripping naked in front of a total stranger.

But, and as I told my client... think of it like going to the doctor for a full physical exam. Hospital gown over your birthday suit and all. Lenders are professionals there to do a job. They do NOT judge or speculate just because they have intimate knowledge of or about you.

If you suspect you may have some homework to do, credit wise, then it's better to contact a lender sooner rather than later. This allows you to get a game plan together and knock out credit related targets while you are saving funds for your down payment goal. Once completed, you are able to resume your application with confidence moving forward.

"Everything You Want Is On The Other Side of Fear" - Jack Canefield

However, if you are one of the few who feel their credit profile will be a "non-issue" then my suggestion becomes waiting to speak to lenders until you have most, if not all, of your down payment goal met.

When applying to a lender always ask if they perform a Soft or Hard inquiry against your credit report. Most of the lenders I know [and I will list two of my favorites for you here in a second] will execute a Soft Credit Inquiry to determine credit worthiness. This Soft Inquiry does not impact or affect your credit score - should such be a matter of concern to you.

Something else I've noticed is that people don't seem to understand shopping for lender is very much like shopping for an automobile. The overall requirements of any one particular lender (or dealership) can be totally different from a fellow lender's (or dealership's).

Just because one says "No" does not mean they will all will say "No". And even if the first lender tells you "Yes"... I would still encourage you to apply to more than one who does Soft Inquiries. Compare apples to oranges to find the best fit for your home purchasing needs by reviewing interest rates, terms of repayment, mutual rights and remedies, and so on and so forth.

Only after you have secured lender approval (which may be conditional based on various factors) and they have given you the green light to shop up to the amount of $X.00 do you move on to Step 3.

STEP 3 - FIND YOUR REALTOR

The vast majority of the population feels the path to homeownership is "finding the home and then buying it" - through a Real Estate agent. This is NOT the case.

Selecting an agent to help navigate you through the complexities of The Offer and Purchase process is the absolute LAST step to be taken.

What Happens When You Do It Backwards:

You shop for, and find, that PERFECT place and then reach out to an an agent or contact the website that is listing that property. The agent involved determines you haven't spoken with a lender and may now recommend one to get the process started.

Just to let you know... most of us agents are unable to do much of anything at this point without your having secured a lender first. There are some agents out there who are also qualified mortgage consultants but I, personally, haven't met one yet so I don't know how they work.

At this point the agent may also put you on an e-mailer list that scouts the MLS's and regularly sends you properties "matching" the ideal home that you originally asked about.

Why?

Because "that home may not still be there when you are in a position to buy". That's agent speak for... this is gonna take a bit of second and that property will most likely have sold by the time we get you lender approved.

I can't emphasize enough the fact that we agents don't "GET" you that house - the lender does that by providing the loan to pay for it. Us agents help you shop for a home and protect your best interests when buying it.

We deal with the butt-ton of technical paperwork coming/going from every which-a-way at all hours of the day, manage the contract negotiations, handle scheduling and execution of services by professional providers involved in the transaction, are your personal defacto counselor/moral support during the stress mess of buying, and more. None of which can be done until a lender gives us the green light to begin.

Well, most folks aren't mentally or emotionally prepared to reach out to said lender on the fly like this. Fears of "what that lender will see" or personal misgivings about "not qualifying" due to credit condition can halt the whole process at this point. Perhaps leaving you with negative emotions about the whole experience thus far.

But, for the sake of argument let's say you muster up the courage to reach out to a lender anyway. You'll discover that they are people too - most with a generous heart and helpful personality.

You might even discover that your credit was nowhere near as bad as you had built it up in your mind to be. Or, the lender may come back with a little homework for you. Take care of This and That and we'll be able to get you into a home.

The "whammy" of doing it in reverse order like this is that the lender will also share that you will need X thousands of dollars as a down payment to make that happen. Talk about a case of sticker shock!

Obviously, this can be discouraging and disheartening. To overcome one obstacle only run smack dab into another you weren't prepared to tackle? It may start to feel like you are looking up the side of a mountain, the goal of owning a home clearly in your line of sight, but you lack the climbing equipment (not to mention the funds to acquire such) to reach the summit.

It may feel like "that's it, game over" at this point. I know because I, too, approached home ownership azz-backwards like this before I became a Realtor. Felt like someone had ripped a bit of my soul away and left me frustrated and crying inside my heart and mind.

DON'T give up on yourself or your dream of home ownership. Back up, regroup, and attack that goal again. This time, in the correct sequence of events.

"You May Have To Fight A Battle More Than Once To Win It" - Margaret Thatcher

Do this and I promise you that there will be no better feeling in the world than those you experience at the closing table when you are finally handed the keys to your very own home.

Disclaimer: Opinion Editorial for educational and/or informational purposes. Content presented is deemed accurate and/or reliable at the time of authorship. Any errors or omissions present in material(s) are unintentional. You are encouraged to execute your own research.

#MGARES #VirtualPropertyRealty.com #homegoals #househunting #homebuying #realestate #realestateagent

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prophezeiung · 4 years ago

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ways of realizing that you’re falling in love with your best friend pt. 1: the murdering of his girlfriend a holden vaisey x pollux parkinson drabble @vorhersage

A young woman had been killed, murdered in cold blood, the papers said. Whatever noteworthy family members she had left behind were not only, understandably, in mourning, but also desperate to find whoever was responsible for this tragedy and hold them accountable. Among them were her sister, Ophelia, who some people claimed had gone a little insane over this loss; and her boyfriend, Pollux, who wore the darkest shades of black and the hardest facial expressions in the weeks after her death. Among them was her killer. Holden Vaisey, this killer's best friend, had watched the events unfold like the one-man audience at the enactment of a drama. He had missed most of the lead-up to this breaking point, by his own volition, but he had been there when she had died. He had seen the desperation creep into her eyes the moment she realized that she had put her trust in the wrong person, and the gravity of this mistake. He had seen it leave her eyes as well, along with every last glimmer of life at one stroke of his best friend's hand. The months that had led up to this moment had been agonizing to watch, but now his front row seat was paying off. He supported Pollux fully in this decision, not only because their relation had become more than a nuisance to Holden, but because he thought it better for Pollux to rid himself of this unsustainable foolery. He surely would have helped out, had Pollux himself not come to the conclusion that entertaining a charade like this was anything but beneficial to him. Taking matters into his own hands had proven to Holden that Pollux, when it came down to it, was still the man he took him for. They had not talked about it, Holden hadn't known the plan or if there even was one, but he had sensed it, the stern determination and the cool composure that had taken over his friend, and he had felt at ease, just as much as if he had taken this life himself.

Somebody who did not know Holden Vaisey might see this: A deeply disturbed man reenacting the traumas of his youth. An affinity for the violent things in life born from the foreignness of affection and devaluation of empathy. An untrue self-image through distorted reflection. The physical denial of feeling — quite literally the drowning of emotions to the brink of extinction, self-torture under the pretense of betterment. Somebody who did not know Holden Vaisey might also see this: A love, like a flame, obsessive, hungry, scorching and selfish to the core, yet oxymoronically sacrificial. The sickening satisfaction over the misery of somebody else, only unusual and therefore more twisted in the context of their mutual and exclusive love. The routined incomprehension and denial of either.

Holden Vaisey himself was happy. Not the pure, unadulterated form of happiness, the innocent joy that grows rarer with wisdom, nor the twisted schadenfreude, the malicious pleasure at others' despair. He was simply and wantlessly content. It did not matter that someone had died and that consequentially something had to die. Things were like they were before, or soon they would be. He had not cared at all for this phase, this short-lived phenomenon that had been his best friend's relationship, and so it was good that it was over.

He didn't know how it had started, and he wanted and didn't want to understand it in equal measures. The less he knew the better, it should seem, but the material with which his mind filled in the gaps was at times just as unsavory as the sting of the truth, if not worse. He caught himself asking Pollux to decide in his favor time and time again, a little private experiment conducted in order to measure how invested in their friendship he should remain: "Stay a little longer?", "Are you coming?", "Any plans for tonight?"

The girl — rather than a woman, because they too barely were men — was secondary to Holden. They had met before, of course they had, whoever met Pollux would subsequently meet Holden as well, but she had instantly fallen in the same category that Holden filed most acquaintances in: Useless, uninteresting, unimportant. She was but background noise to him. The more surprised he was when Pollux began to seek her favor. She was not plain aesthetically, but she lacked even a spark of charm to Holden, and beyond that, she represented the class of leeches and lowlives that neither of them had ever paid much mind to, as well as political opinions that should alert even Pollux' sense of self-preservation. She was not only their inferior, she was their opposite. And yet Pollux spent every moment he could afford by her side — time that had previously been reserved for Holden, because of course they spent every spare minute of their life together. It was elemental to their bond. It was all they knew.

Someone who wasn't Holden Vaisey might have seen this: Jealousy.

Pollux Parkinson had withdrawn his attention slowly but noticeably, and even someone like Holden, who took the only meaningful bond he had for granted — because since he was born until now, it always had been granted —, noticed. When the unthinkable suddenly becomes reality, the first natural reaction is apprehension. When the only stability suddenly becomes unreliable, the first natural reaction is wariness. When the source of mutual trust is suddenly opened to a stranger, the first natural reaction is reticence. So Holden had just flashed his bloodhound growl grin and let Pollux believe that nothing had changed. He didn't let him know how unbalanced he became when Pollux went to spend time with his lover, he didn't show his disdain for his new strange lifestyle, he didn't express his doubts over how this choice would affect either of them. They barely spoke about her or Pollux' feelings, and Holden was quite happy with that.

He did not understand what they meant, anyway. The love that he had seen was this: A thoughtless devotion that made you blind and deaf to the world. The sacrifice of freedom and rationality. Bitter disappointment and lifelong aching for a never-real fantasy. It was this: Weakness. He didn't claim to know it, neither to want it, nor to understand it. But what he had seen of it did not match what he knew to be true about his best friend. The Pollux that he knew was clever, alert, rational. He was strong. To Holden's mind, it was easier to believe that what Pollux claimed to be love was false than to believe that his view of him was. The possibility that there were things that transcended previous beliefs and devotions lay so far outside of his reach that it wasn't even within sight. Any dark inkling that the person he'd known his entire life and was confident he knew by heart had a side that to him that was unknown and incomprehensible was buried as quickly as the victims of the manhunts that Holden conducted with increasing frequency. With or without Pollux, though more and more without.

Finally Pollux had seen how vulnerable he had made himself, how he had lost control, and so he had taken it back by force. Given her what she deserved. To Holden's eyes, it had been long overdue. The only consequence of Pollux' decision to kill this alleged love of his that Holden cared for, then, was the relief he felt at the prospects of things going back to how they were. Pollux had, to him, changed beyond recognition, but not beyond reversal. Whatever this girl had done to him, he had shaken it off, and even though Holden presumed that some of it might preoccupy him for another while — Pollux had always been the quieter of the two, and neither of them had a habit of prying innermost thoughts from the other —, nonetheless this choice must surely mean that he had found closure, or was confident that he would.

Someone who knew Pollux and the thing most important to him might see this: Two lovers, heartbroken, torn apart by the expanding gap between their two worlds. Doubt, rearing its ugly head for the last time, so strongly this once that the bond that had always managed to squash it before now snapped under its heel like a twig. The admittance of a true nature, supposedly, against all previous efforts of salvation, and the destruction of any proof that there had ever been such.

Nobody, not even those who knew Pollux and the thing most important to him, would see this: Two lovers, oblivious, each breaking their own heart and turning away from help and each other. Love masked as habit, desire masked as codependency. Knowledge of one another, so intimate it might predict actions even before they are initialized, yet an intentional blindness towards the most basic psychological processes, their own and the other's.

That Pollux was keeping his distance even after the deed was done and the circumstances had shifted back to something familiar was always part of the equation. Holden knew his friend, and he was patient with him. Not the calculating patience he had for everyone else, people that he expected to gain something from and would therefore suffer through their antics if the price was right — no, for Pollux he would wait, however long and for whatever reason. In this case he knew what he would win from it, and it made him display an almost childlike anticipation that grew with every day, but it made no difference. Holden was certain that, sooner or later, Pollux would return to his old self, return to him.

Because in turn, nobody knew what Pollux Parkinson meant to Holden, not even Pollux himself. It was this: Glue that held together something irreparable. A silver lining for someone irredeemable. An extension of himself, as irreplaceable as a limb and as vital as an organ. A mirror, and at the same time, guidance. The promise of safety, taken for granted and the only reason why his world didn't collapse daily.

Had he been provided with this clear-cut definition, cold as steel, and asked, was it love? The answer would undoubtedly be yes. But a man who let a sick mind decide over a healthy heart would never consider that it was able to love when he had decided long ago that he didn't subscribe to this strange concept. No, the admission to anything but self-sufficiency would certainly crumble the so carefully constructed self-image.

For a person so keen on controlling every single aspect of their presence, Holden paid very little mind to the routines pertaining to his best friend. Whatever he felt like doing, he just did; Pollux understood, he was the same. There was no reason to overcomplicate matters that so smoothly ran on their own. If a future without the other was impossible, why bother trying to live any other life?

#death /#murder /#long post /#( in case the read more fails pray for me )#( n e ways i wrote this a while ago but it's time to put it on here )#( ft. nici's ophelia whom we love )#vorhersage #wahrsagung #𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐯𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐲 › general › the murderer #𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐯𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐲 › ship: pollden › fuel the pyre of your enemies #𝐫𝐩. › drabble › the things we invent when we are scared

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smuttymess · 5 years ago

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bts compatibility reading | for kye

sign: capricorn sun | capricorn moon | capricorn rising

lover: min yoongi | soulmate: kim namjoon

This reading is for Kye @teaandthegalaxy. Kye is an ARMY with a serious Bangtan problem given that she ults Seokjin but is wrecked by Hobi…and Jungkook and Namjoon. I feel your pain bb. You’re my first triple sign (all three elements in Capricorn) so please enjoy! I look forward to hopefully meeting you post quarantine <3

Triple Capricorn, triple threat! With your sun, moon and rising sign in Capricorn, you fully embody all of the best and worst qualities of the ram. An earth sign through and through, you are the most grounded and traditional of the entire Zodiac, known for your unwavering honor, diligence, integrity, and strong work ethic. There is nothing that you cannot achieve once you put your mind to it, and you have the track record of accomplishments and checked boxes to prove it. You know better than anyone how to identify a goal and put the right steps in order and follow them through with unwavering commitment. All about growth, second place is not in your vocabulary.

Given your high caliber, it’s no surprise that you have friends in high places, including some in the art world who bring you to upscale events around the world. This is how you happen to be introduced to Yoongi, who is performing a secret set for an intimate crowd. Despite his celebrity, Yoongi is incredibly low-key and reserved, which is not your usual type - you tend to like the guy that wears power on his sleeve for all to see. And yet, after watching him perform, witnessing firsthand the way in which his passion and charisma shine through with all eyes on him, you grow intrigued and eager to get to know him better. Never one to shy away from what you want, you immediately approach him after the set and lay on your cool charm before slipping him your phone number and cooly making your exit. You can practically feel his eyes shift under his hat from the piece of paper to your ass as you saunter back to your table.

Neither you or Yoongi are typically ones to rush the physical, taking your time in getting to know each other’s internal worlds, which you find are much more compatible than you initially imagined. Despite his more withdrawn, tough rapper persona, you soon find that you are both hopeless romantics at the core. You have both been hurt before, and yet he is more than willing to chip away at the protection you’ve built around yourself. When Yoongi invites you to his studio to help him with a song, you learn there is even more than what meets the eye. Over the next few months, you spent countless late nights and early mornings intertwined, enjoying the softness and loving companionship he provides. While he’s happy to talk work, he’s much more interested in escapism after a long day. Yoongi is all about fantasy and role play, allowing you to let down your walls and give him the control. In the hours spent with your hands tied to the bedpost and Yoongi in between your legs, it is one of the rare times that you are able to completely forget about your checklist and to-dos.

Trouble comes when you you cannot fully allow yourself to lose control with him to the level that he would like. In time, once the allure of staying in bed all afternoon loses its luster, his highly romantic and sensitive nature becomes less of a turn on and more of an imposition. He does not work in the traditional sense, only carving out time for his tasks when he sees fit. This does not work for you as someone who sets schedules and sticks to them without fail, and sees anything less as irresponsible. While he respects your drive, he does not do well with feeling controlled or bossed around, which you are prone to do. While you two eventually go your separate ways, you cannot deny the temptation for the occasional fuck here and there - his head game is unparalleled after all. Try as you might to lose yourself in work, you can’t forget how his tongue felt on your body, expertly working to give you some of the longest, most intense orgasms of your life. After much deliberating and almost-sent texts, you are smart enough to recognize it would do more harm than good to reach out to the emotional fish.

Not only do you want to excel, you want to be the best, stopping at nothing to reach the next level of success. This means you need a partner who is truly on your level - equally ambitious, creative and methodological in achieving what they desire. Above all else, you desire stability, and a true partner who wants to conquer the world with you. When you see Namjoon accepting one of his many awards for his cultural contributions and philanthropic work at a gala, you know that this is a man with all of those qualities - and you must have him.

Poor Namjoon doesn’t have a chance once you set your sights on him with your signature Capricorn confidence and directness, boldly suggesting a potential investment opportunity with your company. That strong, driven leader is almost turned to mush at the sight of such a clearly dominant woman, and he barely lets a full 24 hours before setting up a lunch meeting in his busy schedule. He is gorgeous, and that immediate attraction has you buzzing as you sit with him and he moves past business talk to probe you further. A true Virgo, there is nothing superficial about Namjoon - he is deliberate in all that he does and is incredibly perceptive, doing his best to dissect you and figure out what makes you tick. Instinctively, he gravitates towards your very evident cerebral, wise and thoughtful nature. You soon bond over your shared sensibility, focus and curiosity as earth signs which you both find extremely attractive in a world filled with frivolity and inauthenticity. The mental and physical connection is equally high, and its not long before your eyes fall from his beautiful lips to the top button of his dress shirt while you imagine what’s underneath. It becomes clear that this will not be a business relationship, which of course was always your intention. And while you’re ready to ride him right then and there at the table, you both wait, knowing full well the value of letting things build and not acting on impulsion.

In the early stages of the relationship, you two find comfort in being your truest selves together, shedding your signature hard outside armor and over time reaching mutual acceptance and respect for exactly who you are as individuals. He is prone to worry as a typical Virgo, and you are able to hear him and help solve his problems. People often perceive him as too introverted, reserved and cold in his business-first demeanor. You are are able to appreciate his leader persona, knowing that beneath the surface lies a highly compassionate, empathetic softie. It is challenging for you to find someone you are both romantically and sexually attracted to. With your level of discipline and fondness for control, you can be incredibly stubborn and often unwilling to compromise and this is especially true with picking serious partners. Namjoon is one of the few people that can get you out of your rigid ways and into a more mindful present, allowing you to let go and see the world in new, profound ways.

This of course extends into your sex life, where he brings all of his knowledge and curiosity into the bedroom. When you do finally fuck Namjoon after weeks of agonizing and teasing via text, you can reveal your deeply sensual side. He wants to know every inch of you, mastering exactly where to touch you to send shockwaves through your body. And you know how to draw out sessions with him, edging him into a frenzied, submissive state as you ride him on the couch or in his office. Given your two competitive personalities, expect lots of makeup sex after arguments where you both refuse to admit defeat, culminating with him playfully hoisting you up against a wall, fucking the stubbornness right out of you.

You and Namjoon are a fantastic match given your appreciation and dedication of high-quality, high-value relationships and a commitment to the ones you love. Being two earth signs in a relationship, you both understand the importance of practicality and pragmatism in building the life you desire - no shortcuts her! As a result, you are both constantly working with each other to calibrate your next steps. While your relationship can at times feel like a business partnership when you are both in the zone - him on his next album and you on your various projects that take you away from each other for days at a time - you rest assured knowing that your love for each other is unwavering and that when you reunite you will more than make up for all that time apart. There is no facade here as you are both no-nonsense, knowing full well how to balance business and love while fully trusting in each other to make the right decisions. You are a true power couple - Namjoon working primarily in the spotlight while you behind the scenes - a that dynamic works well for you as you build a life together that provides you with mutual respect, stability, power, devotion and love.

#bts #bts astrology #bangtan #bangtan astrology #bangtan fic #fiction #horoscope #astrology #astrology readings #kim namjoon #min yoongi #virgo #pisces #capricorn

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woodlandtreasure-tarot · 5 years ago

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☀️ Pick-a-card reading ☀️

🌸✨Hello, lovelies! ✨🌸

Here’s a nice little pick a card reading for all of you. Close your eyes and use your intuition to choose a card. The individual crystals will help you do this, along with helping me interpret the meaning of their designated cards.

Swan Spirit ~ Card 1

Time for a deep dive.

Oracle Message: With their graceful, long necks, swans are able to reach into the depths. When Swan Spirit arrives, you are called to take a deep dive, beyond what is easily available on the surface. You may think you know what is best for you now, but take the plunge into the depths of your awareness, for there is knowledge you are not aware of and great treasures to discover. Deeper understanding awaits you, and a perspective that comes from greater self-knowledge is what you need right now to better understand a situation or relationship. As you come to know yourself more intimately, so too will you come to better know others, so Swan Spirit asks you to go beyond the surface of what is happening between you and others and resist the temptation to judge by superficial appearances. Know there is much deeper potential for loving connections, forgiveness, and mutual understanding. Choose to dive deep, into your Why. Asking the deeper questions of yourself, you are led by the grace of Swan Spirit.

Rose Quartz ~ Aids in anything love or relationship related. Instills comfort, relieves grief, and promotes harmonious relationships. The stone of love, emotional balance, and healing.

Owl Spirit ~ Card 2

You see clearly now.

Oracle Message: Owl Spirit arrives to remind you that the wisdom within you is informed by your keen senses and the wisdom within the consciousness we all share. Even in the darkest night, the owl sees clearly and is guided by every sense it has, including the first sense of intuition. Right now, your sensitivities are turbocharged and you are receiving messages from all directions. Owl Spirit reminds you to be wise and pay attention to what's between the lines, what is invisible to the naked eye, what cannot be heard with the ears, and what others may not be able to perceive. With all your senses aroused, you have much knowledge available to you. Clarity will come as you sit with all that you are sensing, allowing your intuition to guide you in understanding the whole and not just the parts. Let your wisdom arise and be your guide as you trust the acuity of all your senses. Intuition is real and can provide the clarity you need to understand your situation right now. Your relationship, your finances, your job—whatever it is, you can see the truth clearly now.

Smoky Quartz ~ Helps you see clearly. Filters out negative thoughts and emotions. Perfect for grounding and banishing negativity.

Flamingo Spirit ~ Card 3

Embrace the in-between.

Oracle Message: Balance comes easily to Flamingo Spirit, who sees what was and what will be and stands strong in the face of uncertainty. You can be informed by what came before and plan for a future yet to be, but do not resist Flamingo Spirit's call to be fully present in the now, where the real magic happens. With one foot in the life you are moving away from and one in the future as you become the one who leads the life of your highest intentions, you must make peace with the fact that you are not fully in either place. Embrace the in-between! The presence of Flamingo Spirit is also a sign that your creativity is arising within you and opportunities are beginning to present themselves. Remain here in a balanced state of mind, for there is much to know and learn before going forward with new plans. You can trust this moment and yourself as you take in what you see and become aware of all that you are experiencing in this in-between time.

Rose Quartz ~ Aids in anything love or relationship related. Instills comfort, relieves grief, and promotes harmonious relationships. The stone of love, emotional balance, and healing.

Ant Spirit ~ Card 4

Time to collaborate.

Oracle Message: When Ant Spirit comes to visit, it's to celebrate the benefits of working in a partnership with others as part of a community or tribe. Spirit reminds you that to build your dream, you need to work with others, accept help, and trust in your most important partnership—the one you have with Spirit. Your intentions will come to fruition if you remain awake and focused on co-creating your reality with others and with Spirit. Remember that the world around you can easily seduce you if you don't have some sort of practice or discipline like meditation to keep you on track as you build the life you desire. Connecting with others and having accountability partners can be very helpful, as it's unlikely that everyone will fall asleep at the same time. The other message Ant Spirit holds is that you are now at an auspicious time to ask for help and receive it, whether you need help assembling a team, finding a new tribe, or requesting assistance from others who are there for you. Everything is working to support you right now!

Hematite ~ Helps with life development and building self-esteem. It tells it like it is. If you're spinning out of control, it is going to give you a reality check.

Fox Spirit ~ Card 5

Think on your feet.

Protection Message: Are you camouflaging yourself to avoid intimacy? Perhaps you are being too clever for your own good and playing games to protect yourself. Being dishonest with yourself or others can become isolating and create obstacles to true connection. Fox Spirit calls you to be attuned to what is happening within you and around you so that your quick thinking and creativity can lead you to better relationships and situations. You are called to use your Fox Spirit beneficially rather than in ways that keep you from experiencing what you want. Or perhaps right now you are realizing that a situation is trickier than it appears on the surface, and you are afraid to make a move in case it turns out to be a mistake. Fox Spirit is here to remind you that when you are in alignment with the Great Spirit, the answers and solutions can come quickly and you can trust them. Don't overthink a situation in order to avoid the challenge of facing a difficult truth. Fox Spirit's creative nature will always be there to guide you and help you move quickly into better circumstances.

Fluorite ~ Helps with rationality and combats anxiety and worries. It might be a sign that it's time for a major emotional facelift. When confusion clouds your mind, rediscover the path to happiness.

🌸✨Please Let Me Know if it Resonated for You! ✨🌸

Reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!

If you want a longer and more thorough reading, check out my shop when it opens in a couple of weeks! I have been doing a variety of types of divination for nearly a year now!

#woodlandfortunes #readings

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thelittlepalmtree · 6 years ago

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What is a healthy ship?

I think about this a lot, because we through the word “toxic” around constantly. I actually love the word toxic to describe relationships that are draining, because like radioactive or poisonous materials, toxic behavior may be unnoticeable on a given day or it may have a big affect all at once. However, because of overuse of the word, I’m going to talk about healthy vs unhealthy.

So first of all, let’s identify things that are risk factors: A relationship between a boss and an employee (even after that dynamic has ended), a relationship with a significant age gap, a relationship between people of different social strata, a relationship between a person who has financial control of another person, and a relationship with a history of aggression/dislike of one another, a relationship between a therapist/social worker/doctor and a client, a relationship between a teacher and student, a relationship between people of different physical abilities, etc.

Obviously these risk factors vary in many ways. That’s because what makes a relationship unhealthy is a clear and dramatic divide between the partners. This is true of every relationship. That’s why teachers, doctors, therapists etc have strict regulations and ethics because the people they serve are in their power. Abusing that power is wrong. Now you can have some risk factors, and not be in an unhealthy relationship. In fact most if not all relationships have some risk factors for an unhealthy dynamic (common). For example, people of different social strata can have healthy relationships, they just need to work that out and find ways not to let that into their relationship. And there are millions of healthy relationships where one partner has financial control of the family, but is not abusive.

Then there are gray areas. Personally, I think that a relationship between a boss and an employee isn’t inherently abusive as long as they are no longer boss and employee (look at Aunt Hilda and Dr. Cerberus on TCOS, Ben and Leslie in Parks and Rec). But there are so many factors involved that if one of my friends told me she had a crush on her boss, I’d tell her not to pursue it and I heard a boss was trying to pursue a relationship with an employee I’d immediately be uncomfortable. But a lot of it depends on the job relationship, have they always been boss and employee? How dependent is the employee on the good graces of the boss? Is the boss using rewards or punishments at work to control the employee in the relationship? Is the boss directly managing the employee? I have a similar thing about age differences. Often people are quick to condemn a 20 year old dating a sixteen or seventeen year old, but there are so many factors that you really have to look at it on a case by case basis. Similarly I know people who have very strong and loving relationships with a 7-10 year age difference that met when the younger one was in their early 20s and the older one was in their 30s. Personally, that isn’t something I’m interested as a 20something trying to date, but that doesn’t mean that every relationship like that will be terrible.

That being said, there are some risk factor that are always bad (absolute). A relationship between a therapist, counselor, personal aid, or any profession that gives the professional intimate and necessary knowledge of the person is wrong. If you need that explained think about Elijah Wood in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Did he skeeve you out? Yeah, that’s why the “my therapist is hot and I want to date them” plot is often very cringe. A relationship with an adult and a child, is always going to be bad (If you’re wondering where that line is, you’re too close to it). A relationship with a history of abuse is always going to be a relationship that is unhealthy.

The thing is, if the relationship hasn’t happened yet, and it doesn’t have one of the clearly wrong risk factors, whether it’s actually abusive or not is really up for debate. A lot of time we throw the word abusive around for ships we don’t like. Sometimes it’s about misinformation, where people assign an absolute risk factor to a relationship in which there is no absolute risk factor. A big one for this is buckynat, a ship I adore. I’ll go into the age difference (which is one of many things that does not make sense):

the primary canon for the ship is in the comics based on Black Widow: Deadly Origins (the last comic to give specific dates for Natasha’s life) they met when Natasha was twenty eight and Bucky was thirty nine. Not a significant age difference when you consider that at this point they both have anti-aging bastardized super serum that will keep them both alive for sixty three more years and counting. While other comics have alluded to changing the timeline, they have not actually provided different dates or information (there’s also some discrepancy as to whether or not Natasha was continuously with department X or not).

In the MCU (not that it matters now) it would probably not be hard to establish Natasha as older than the date given in CA:TWS and it would actually empower her to say that she has a version of the serum (where right now she’s just a normal human) and undo the horrible concept that she was sterilized as a graduation from the red room (in the comics she can’t have children because the serum makes pregnancy impossible unless you take immune system suppressants). If they didn’t want to go with this plot line, they could also just have Bucky and Natasha meet in the early 2000s right before she defected (Iron man 2 came out in 2010 if she met Bucky in 2004 when she was 20 she’d still have six years to defect).

And yet there is some strange insistence that if Bucky and Natasha even look at each other in the movies it will be some sort of pedophilia because of a throwaway line in CA:TWS, and based off of almost no evidence from either of the two reservoir of content we have. And rather than just say “I don’t like this ship” it’s been called unhealthy from every angle. Ironically in the comics it was one of the healthiest and most supportive ships which is why so many people fell in love with it. (but that’s for a different blog)

Then there’s the assigning a gray area risk factor to a ship and insisting it always means that relationship will be unhealthy. I have to admit, I can be guilty of this. And I’m calling myself out right now because I do this to the reylo ship all the time. The thing is, these are legitimate reasons to not ship a ship, they’re gray areas and if you’re like me, the very existence of these risk factors makes the idea of the two characters being together seem cringe-y. So my Reylo analysis below:

The risk factor that makes Reylo seem unhealthy is the fact that Rey and Kylo had very few positive interactions in the first film, and in fact their most in depth conversation was while Kylo was hurting Rey. But, given the circumstances, it is possible they might get together. Think about Katarra and Zuko, who were on different sides of the same war, and then later became good friends (and personally I shipped them like crazy). It’s commonly accepted that in movies with grand fantastic implications, that two people who are on different sides can later become friends when one of them makes a major personal change.

Now, in the second movie, it seems fairly evident that that character change has yet to happen. But speaking from personal experience, it takes a lot for someone to be a better person. While it’s not a good idea to get together with someone to change them, it’s not like that’s an impossible thing to do, but also Kylo and Rey are not together and have yet to get together in the films. So presumably most of the shippers are hoping for Kylo to make better choices before the two characters get together.

That’s the thing about shipping. No one ships the version of Reylo where Kylo is a whiny bitch who wants to take over the metaphor for the original nazi army metaphor (they’re called storm troopers people) and he spends all day emotionally manipulating Rey just to make her feel bad. The ones who do ship it, like that Kylo and I guess Rey have to become better people first. They don’t ship things as they are now, they are excited about the potential happiness these characters can find.

While this isn’t a good way to live your life (i.e. don’t date someone who isn’t their best self right now), it can be a fantasy for someone. I get it, the idea that the person you like isn’t great yet but eventually they’ll get their shit together. The thing that makes it nice is the fact that it never happens in real life. So if that’s what you’re into, cool. You do you. If your version of the ship is okay, we’re good.

Then there’s the last method of calling a ship unhealthy. That is taking a number of common nearly universal risk factors and using it as evidence to say the ship is unhealthy. To me this is the grossest misuse and one of the most common. It is almost always used against canon ships that get in the way of the popular ship and it can honestly push people out of the fandom. The example I’m going to use here is the ship Karamel, because once again I did not ship it at all. But I saw so much Karamel hate that I’m familiar with the ridiculousness of the some of the arguments. Analysis below:

Where to start with this one. Honestly everything was thrown at this ship. The fact that Mon-El was kind of a dick in the beginning. The fact that his parents were bad people. The fact that he told her he liked her multiple times. The fact that Kara took some time to show interest in him. Yes, if a relationship is abusive, these might have been early red flags, but this relationship was not abusive. It wasn’t the best relationship ever. But Mon-El never disrespected Kara’s choices or ingnored her when she said stop or no.

The truth is, sometimes people have crushes on people and it’s not mutual. In this situation, they had to remain a part of each others’ lives, and honestly, I’m glad that Mon-El was honest with his feelings. Because for him, Kara’s friendship was really important, and she was constantly pushing him to be open wit his feelings and to be more emotionally mature. So when he was honest, even though the conversation was risky, I think it was the right decision.

Here’s the problem with labeling this relationship as abusive. Obviously, the implication is that Mon-El is abusive. When you are in an abusive relationship, it isn’t a choice. It’s something that happens to you, because an abuser will constantly lie and gaslight you so that you have no real understanding of the facts and therefore cannot really make a choice. If you say Kara was in an abusive or “toxic” relationship just because she’s in a relationship you don’t like, you are taking away her choices. The best part of Supergirl is that Kara has to struggle to make choices whether they be right or wrong. She’s the one in control of the plot, she’s the driving force. So to then take all that away because you disagree with her choice in partner, really ignores her power and turns her into a passive, incapable woman. Whether or not you like her relationship with Mon-El, it is clear that she is the one that sets the boundaries and she is the one that drives it.

So then there are clearly abusive ships. I’m not going to do an in depth analysis but I think the best example is Jarley. The tamest incarnation of this ship Suicide Squad in which the Joker tortures her and then pushes her in a vat of toxic chemicals. It’s also a relationship between a therapist and a patient. A truly unhealthy relationship is one that satisfies most or all of the following criteria:

The couple is actually together in the canon (otherwise how would we actually analyze that dynamic?)

The couple has an absolute risk factor

There is evidence in canon of physical, sexual, or emotional abuse (this is not having an argument or teasing each other, for more info go here)

There is evidence of gaslighting or maniuplation (these must be intentional)

There is a clear power disparity between the characters

It’s important that we don’t over-label ships as abusive. First of all because there are a lot of people who are in abusive relationships or have been in abusive relationships all over the world. If they see that just any relationship that people don’t like is qualified as “abusive” it will become so much harder to then see their own relationships with clear eyes. I legitimately realized that my parents had been abusive to me because of some of the discourse here on tumblr. But if I was fifteen in the marvel fandom right now, it would be really hard for me to distinguish between healthy and unhealthy relationships.

It’s also really important to make a distinction. Not all ships are created equal. There are dark corners of fandoms where parent/child ships grow and pedophilic ships are popular. And several fandoms have very popular incest (sibling) ships. These relationships are not okay. We need to be able to call them out undeniably. And every time you call a ship you don’t like unhealthy when it isn’t, you’re giving people a reason not to believe you when you do call out an unhealthy relationship.

Our words matter, and how we treat each other matters. It’s important to remember that there are no easy answers here. And also it’s okay to just not like something. You shouldn’t feel the need to justify it and you shouldn’t feel the need to declare it from the rooftops. My favorite ship is Buckynat. I’ve never once gotten mad for seeing a “how do you like buckynat?” “not my cup of tea” post. I get so upset when I see a “How do you like buckynat?” “oh it’s so TOXIC” post. In the same way that if you liked chocolate ice cream and your friend told you that chocolate ice cream is contributing to misogyny and trauma for women everywhere, you’d be a little up in arms.

If you read through this, thank you so much, you probably don’t need it. If not, well, you’re not here are you?

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romancatholicreflections · 6 years ago

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4th December >> Fr. Martin's Gospel Reflections / Homilies on Luke 10:21-24 for Tuesday, First Week of Advent: ‘Happy the eyes that see what you see’.

Tuesday, First Week of Advent

Gospel (Europe, Africa, New Zealand, Australia & Canada)

Luke 10:21-24

No-one knows who the Son is except the Father

Filled with joy by the Holy Spirit, Jesus said:

‘I bless you, Father, Lord of heaven and of earth, for hiding these things from the learned and the clever and revealing them to mere children. Yes, Father, for that is what it pleased you to do. Everything has been entrusted to me by my Father; and no one knows who the Son is except the Father, and who the Father is except the Son and those to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.’

Then turning to his disciples he spoke to them in private, ‘Happy the eyes that see what you see, for I tell you that many prophets and kings wanted to see what you see, and never saw it; to hear what you hear, and never heard it.’

Gospel (USA)

Luke 10:21-24

Jesus rejoices in the Holy Spirit.

Jesus rejoiced in the Holy Spirit and said, “I give you praise, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for although you have hidden these things from the wise and the learned you have revealed them to the childlike. Yes, Father, such has been your gracious will. All things have been handed over to me by my Father. No one knows who the Son is except the Father, and who the Father is except the Son and anyone to whom the Son wishes to reveal him.”

Turning to the disciples in private he said, “Blessed are the eyes that see what you see. For I say to you, many prophets and kings desired to see what you see, but did not see it, and to hear what you hear, but did not hear it.”

Reflections (9)

(i) Tuesday, First Week of Advent

Every so often in the gospels we are given a little insight into the prayer of Jesus. It is as if we are being allowed to eavesdrop on the most intimate relationship in Jesus’ life, his relationship with God, his Father. Today’s gospel reading gives us such an insight into Jesus’ prayer. It is a joyful prayer of praise inspired by the Holy Spirit. ‘Filled with joy by the Holy Spirit, he said “I bless you Father, Lord of heaven and earth”’. The prayer of praise is the most selfless form of prayer there is. It is a movement towards God without any reference to ourselves. Jesus praises God for who God is and for what God is doing. What is God doing, according to this prayer of Jesus? He is revealing something really important to those whom Jesus calls ‘mere children’. God the Father is revealing to children the intimate relationship of love between himself and Jesus which leads to mutual knowledge, ‘no one knows who the Son is except the Father, and who the Father is except the Son’. Who are these children who are receiving this revelation? The reference is probably to those who have the openness of the child to God’s message spoken through Jesus, in other words, the disciples. It is to the disciples that Jesus goes on to say, ‘Happy the eyes that see what you see’. The disciples who are receptive to what God is showing them are contrasted to ‘the learned and the clever’, those who are so sure of what they know that are closed to what God is trying to reveal to them about the relationship between himself and Jesus. ‘Happy the eyes…’ There is a beatitude here that can potentially embrace us all, provided we have the same child-like openness to what God wants to reveal to us through his Son and the Spirit.

And/Or

(ii) Tuesday, First week of Advent

When we hear the term Beatitudes we probably think first of the ten Beatitudes from the beginning of the Sermon on the Mount that are well known to us. However they are not the only beatitudes in the gospel. This morning’s gospel reading contains a beatitude, one that is addressed to all of us, ‘Happy the eyes that see what you see’. Jesus declares us blessed because we have come to see and hear what prophets and kings during the history of the people of Israel wanted to see and hear but never did. In the first reading today Isaiah looks forward to a descendant of Jesse, the father of David, on whom the Holy Spirit of God would rest in abundance. That person was Jesus and in this morning’s gospel reading he prays to God in the power of the Holy Spirit. We are fortunate to have seen and heard what Isaiah and others like him could only hope for. We may not have seen and heard Jesus in the way that his first disciples did, but we have seen and heard him in and through the gospels, in and through the church. As we prepare this Advent to celebrate the birth of Jesus, we might take a moment to give thanks to God for the gift of our Christian faith. It is a gift, God’s gift; we have done nothing to earn it. All the gifts we might receive in the next four weeks pale into insignificance alongside this great gift.

And/Or

(iii) Tuesday, First Week of Advent

Advent is a season of prayerful waiting for the coming of the Lord. The great Advent prayer is ‘Come Lord Jesus’. In that prayer we invite the Lord to come into our lives more fully. We ask the Lord to be born within our lives, so that we might worthily celebration the feast of Christ’s birth to Mary and Joseph. In Advent we enter into the spirit of Mary’s prayerful waiting for her son to be born, a prayerful waiting that found a special expression in her great prayer the Magnificat. At the beginning of the first week of Advent with its call to prayer, this morning’s gospel reading puts before us an example of the prayer of Jesus. His prayer was inspired by the Holy Spirit, ‘filled with joy by the Holy Spirit, Jesus said...’ All true prayer is inspired and shaped by the Holy Spirit. In his prayer Jesus blesses or praises God for revealing the mysteries of the kingdom to mere children, while hiding them from the learned and the clever. Jesus’ prayer reminds us that we need the simplicity and the openness of the child to receive all that God is offering us. Advent calls on us to become like little children in that sense, to open our hearts in simplicity and humility to the Lord’s coming.

And/Or

(iv) Tuesday, First Week of Advent

The gospel reading this morning is one of the few passages in the gospels where the evangelists allow us to overhear the prayer of Jesus. He is portrayed as praying in the joy of the Holy Spirit. All genuine prayer in our own lives is an expression of the working of the Holy Spirit within us. Our prayer, in a sense, is only an entering into the ongoing prayer of the Holy Spirit deep within our hearts. In his prayer Jesus give thanks to God for all those who have welcomed Jesus’ revelation of his own intimate relationship with God. It is the children who have received this revelation, those considered weak and vulnerable, while those regarded as learned and clever have rejected this revelation. Jesus addresses his own disciples as among those who have received Jesus’ revelation of his own intimate relationship with God, ‘Happy the eyes that see what you see. Advent is a time when we try to open our eyes more fully to what the Lord is trying to reveal to us. It is a season when we become like children so as to receive with greater openness what the Lord is offering us, a share in his own intimate relationship with God.

And/Or

(v) Tuesday, First Week of Advent

The first reading speaks about a shoot coming forth from the root or the stock of Jesse. It is one of the great visions of hope in the Jewish Scriptures. Jesse was the father of David and of David’s dynasty. The prophet sees that particular dynasty as almost dead. Yet, there is a root there and from that root will come someone who will fulfil the hopes that were associated with David and his descendants, someone on whom the Spirit of the Lord will rest with all its sevenfold gifts. As Christians we recognize Jesus as the fulfilment of that prophecy of Isaiah. In Luke’s gospel, in particular, Jesus is portrayed as full of the the Spirit of the Lord. In this morning’s gospel reading from Luke, Jesus is filled with joy by the Holy Spirit and in the power of that Spirit prays to God, blessing his Father for revealing the mysteries of the kingdom to mere children. His disciples have come to see what prophets and kings longed to see and never saw. We too are among those to whom the mysteries of the kingdom have been revealed, who have come to see what Isaiah and others longed to see and never say. For this we should never cease to give thanks, especially in this season of Advent.

And/Or

(vi) Tuesday, First Week of Advent

In this morning’s gospel reading, Luke gives us an insight into the prayer of Jesus. Jesus prays out of his unique relationship with God the Father, ‘no one knows who the Son is except the Son, or who the Father is except the Son’. Yet, it is clear from what Jesus goes on to say that this unique relationship is not a relationship that is closed in on itself. Jesus wants to draw people into his relationship with God. Jesus speaks about choosing to reveal God to others, so that others may come to know God as Jesus himself does. Jesus declares that it is children who are open to this revelation more than the learned and the clever. Jesus wants to draw everyone into his own relationship but only some people allow themselves to be drawn, those who have the openness of the child to the mystery of God. Jesus goes on to declare all who allow themselves to be drawn blessed because they have come to see what many people before Jesus wanted to see but never saw. Those of us who have been given and received the gift of faith are included within that beatitude of Jesus. Advent is a time to grow in our appreciation of what we have been given, a sharing in Jesus’ own relationship with God, and to ask for the grace to live out of that relationship more fully.

And/Or

(vii) Tuesday, First Week of Advent

Very occasionally the evangelists give us access to the content of Jesus’ prayer. This morning’s gospel reading is one of the places in the gospels where we hear Jesus praying. He praises God in the joy of the Spirit for revealing the mysteries of God’s kingdom to mere children as distinct from the learned and the clever. The learning of those who claimed to already know God and God’s will blocked them from hearing what God was trying to show them through his Son Jesus. In contrast, those who did not claim to know, who were genuinely searching, were open to receive what God was revealing through Jesus. These were the ‘children’ Jesus speaks about in the gospel reading, those who became like little children, who acknowledged their own need and were open to receive. The religious experts missed the opportunity of God’s visitation through Jesus, whereas those who would have been written off as knowing nothing of God or of God’s Law, welcomed God’s visitation and rejoiced at the year of God’s favour that Jesus was inaugurating. Jesus’ prayer reminds us that when it comes to God a little knowledge can be a dangerous thing. We have to keep acknowledging our need for light. Advent is a season to enter into that poverty of spirit which keeps us open to what God wishes to show us. Such openness of spirit finds expression in the humble prayer, ‘Come Lord Jesus’.

And/Or

(viii) Tuesday, First Week of Advent

In today’s gospel reading, Luke, the evangelist, portrays Jesus at prayer and gives us access to Jesus’ intimate relationship with God his Father. This relationship is not in any sense a closed relationship, to which no one else is admitted. If, as Jesus says, no one knows the Father except the Son and no one knows the Son except the Father, Jesus also states that he, the Son, has chosen to reveal the Father to those who are open to receive this revelation. In other words, Jesus seeks to draw us into his own intimate relationship with his Father. Jesus addresses God his Father, filled with the Holy Spirit. Jesus pours that same Spirit into our hearts so that we can address God, relate to God, as Jesus does. It is an extraordinary privilege to be offered a share in Jesus’ own relationship with God. That is why Jesus turns to his disciples in the gospel reading and declares them blessed or happy. They have seen and heard what prophets and kings longed to see and hear and did not. We are all included in that great beatitude. We are very fortunate to be offered by Jesus this gift of a sharing in his own relationship with God. Yet, if we are to receive this gift we need to become like little children. As Jesus says, the Father is revealed to mere children and hidden from the learned and clever. When our learning makes us arrogant and self-sufficient, we will not be able to receive the wonderful gift that Jesus is offering us. When we acknowledge our poverty before God, our dependence on God, then our hearts will be open to receive the great privilege that Jesus is offering us.

And/Or

(ix) Tuesday, First Week of Advent

In the gospel reading, Jesus makes a distinction between ‘the learned and the clever’ and ‘mere children’. It is children, those considered uneducated, who are open to the revelation of the unique relationship between Jesus and God the Father, whereas the learned and clever are closed to it. Most of Jesus’ disciples would not have been regarded as among the learned and the clever, and, yet, Jesus says to them, ‘happy the eyes that see what you see’. They have come to see what Jesus came to show us; they have come to recognize the intimate relationship of knowledge and love between Jesus and God his Father. It does not mean that learning and study are always a barrier to a relationship with God. Faith will always seek understanding; it will always question and even doubt. Yet, in the end, faith needs to go beyond understand into a realm where understanding falters and where we need to surrender to the mystery of God in Jesus. Jesus is suggesting that such a surrender often comes easier to children than to the learned and the clever. This links with another saying of Jesus in the gospels, ‘Unless you become like little children, you will not enter the kingdom of God’. When it comes to God and the things of God, our intellect and our learning can only bring us so far. There comes a point when we need to allow ourselves to be drawn into the deeper mystery of God, by the Holy Spirit, the Spirit of wisdom and insight spoken of in the first reading.

Fr. Martin Hogan, Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin, D03 AO62, Ireland.

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