#this is another one of those times when i understand the dilemma of not knowing whether you want to be someone or just want them in general

[zapsoda]

kneeling and whining like a dog and saying "not on the face" before being shot in the head...... i cant believe people dont like this season

[thebibliosphere]

Talking in a group chat with some fellow author friends earlier, and the subject of our book reviews came up. As in, "What's the favorite thing anyone's ever said about your book?" type thing.

I had to pause and think about it because people have said a lot of nice things about my work. That it's the queer goth love child of Jane Austen meets Terry Pratchett, for one. That Nathan's disability arc meant the world to them. That Vlad's blatant neurodivergence made them feel seen. That Ursula's profound loneliness made them feel less alone.

But the one thing I see time and time again that makes me smile is the word "comfort." So that's the one I went with. That people find my work comfortable.

So you can imagine my surprise when someone chimed in going, "Noo, don't say that! Your work is so good!"

I won't lie, it took me a solid ten to twenty seconds to realize that she thought someone describing my work as being "comfortable" was an insult and not one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me.

And maybe I'm just several types of mentally ill, chronically ill, and too beaten down by the world, but I do not understand what is wrong with comfort. Comfort, for me, is a physically unobtainable goal. You might as well rank it up there with getting transported into another world and becoming Queen of the Fae. For me, reading comfortable narratives where people get taken care of with compassion and love is a fantasy.

And, like, just objectively speaking, something being comfortable doesn't mean it's not good.

It doesn't mean it's not thought provoking. It doesn't mean conflict-free or lacking moral dilemmas. It means people feel safe reading it, knowing those things will be resolved.

I'm not trying to keep my readers on edge with anxiety, always wondering where the next plot twist will come in. That's not my style of writing. It's not my goal. It's fine if it's yours, but like... Comfort is not an insult, and it makes me a little sad to think some people think it is.

[pygmi-cygni]

writing tip - research

research is one of the pillars of writing. a poorly researched fic, essay, short story, novel, etc is immediately apparent because of several things:

lack of depth

stagnant plot or development

confusing or inconsistent setting

it doesn't matter what genre you write, if it's original or fiction, whatever. you need to research. depending on the relevance of your writing, the depth of research may vary, but it needs to happen. you do not know everything.

Fantasy

I see a lot of writers and authors use fantasy as an excuse to avoid research. Shut the fuck up. Every good fantasy is based on a real ocurrence or social dilemma. That's why we like it so much.

'but pygmi, fantasy is made up! it isn't real!'

SHUT UP. Even if you don't realize it, your story will have elements that readers are intimately familiar with. If you flub something, it will be noticed.

Besides, just because you make stuff up doesn't mean you can be inconsistent. You'll just have to fill in the cracks with made up stuff, which will even out to being about the same amount of effort. Pick your poison, either way you're gonna feel it.

Research is not everybody's favorite. I like it, personally, I think it's like going on little side quests for knowledge. But I understand if you wanna skip all the business and get to writing your baby. No shame.

Let me give you some pointers to make sure the time you spend researching is relevant and well spend.

Lists! God I love lists. after you have outlined your story and your characters and everything, make a list of all the things you need to have a deeper understanding of. This means determining priorities. - How important is The Thing? Will it majorly affect plot or character development? Is it a focal point of the setting? If the answer is yes to any of those questions, it's important. research.

Big picture, little picture. How important is The Thing (again)?. How much detail do you need to know? Especially when it comes to royalty or a hierarchal system, I see research being misguided. There are so many nuances to royal interactions that I could give a rat's ass. Big picture, general outline. I don't need to know everything, just basic courtesy, terms of address, appropriate convo. done. but if your MC is a coroner? might wanna put more detail into that; you'll be talking about the job a lot. determine how much the element will affect your story and go from there.

Don't fudge it for the plot. You'll have a preconceived notion of a certain job description, and then research it and think 'oh that's actually boring.' Don't muddle up the rules just to fit the aesthetic. It's sloppy, and your readers will notice.

To practice researching, pick your topic and after learning a bit about it, try teaching a powerpoint to your parents or friends. if you feel comfortable enough with that knowledge to do it successfully, I'd say you have a good enough understanding.

Setting

researching location is a big one that often gets overlooked. You don't always need to memorize maps, but get a general idea of the city/country layout so when you say "they drove 20 minutes from A to B" it makes sense, rather than having a reader think "Uh, A to B is closer to four hours, wtf?"

if you are making up your city, make a list of important streets and locations in relation to each other. This will help you keep it straight and organized in your head.

Get a feel for flora and fauna. Palm trees don't grow in Alaska. Don't write an Alaskan city with palm trees.

Weather? what's it like? Let me tell you, Portland doesn't get higher than 102F. rainy, cloudy, all that stuff.

Atmospheric details really add a lot, especially if your audience is from that location. It adds another layer of relatability. Also, use weather/plants/animals to your advantage! symbolism, possible curse, all that stuff.

Eras

Oh my god stop fucking this up. Baroque, Elizabethan, Edwardian, Middle Ages ARE DIFFERENT FROM EACH OTHER. STOP SLAPPING FANCY CLOTHES ON PEOPLE AND CALLING IT THE OLDEN DAYS.

get an idea of when electricity was widespread in homes. when was the refrigerator invented? did they use the word 'hella' in 1950? this kinda stuff is important for not breaking the illusion of a time difference. If you are writing a period piece and someone is chatting with a neighbor like it's 2015, we'll have some questions.

Unless it's doctor who. you guys can do literally whatever.

Plot and Character Development

If plot and characters are poorly researched, you are limiting the opportunities for growth. In researching your MC's occupation, you may discover a cool side effect that connects to a plot device. Stagnant, stale characters can be spruced up with a more developed backstory.

All in all, research is really important for your story. regardless of how professional it is, tumblr or the new york times. Do your research. As a writer, you are representing the community in your own way. Do us proud.

xox love you

[magicaii]

One thing about alhaitham that I don’t see brought up a lot is that when he truly cares about someone, he respects their wishes, a lot. When his grandma’s last request to him was that he live a peaceful life, he took that to heart and still lives by it two decades later. He vowed to adopt a certain life philosophy that would make his grandma happy because that’s how much he respected her opinion and judgment. And when kaveh tells alhaitham that he regrets becoming friends with him, alhaitham completely stops talking to him for the next decade. It might seem like alhaitham did this because he stopped caring about kaveh the moment he denounced their friendship, but I think this was just his way of respecting kaveh’s wishes. If he truly believed a friendship with alhaitham ended up being regretful, he would no longer force him into one. I think it says a lot about alhaitham that he cares so deeply about what his loved ones want that he’ll simply listen to them without question.

But it’s so much more than that too. People like to paint those ten years as kaveh suffering and alhaitham being indifferent to their break up, but I don’t think that’s really the case. I truly think alhaitham is very sensitive when it comes to his loved ones. I think he took it to heart when kaveh berated him, and the rejection warded him away indefinitely. Imagine how alhaitham, for the first time in his life, found a genuine connection with another person, only to be brutally reminded of why he didn’t fit in with people- when he was just trying to show concern for kaveh’s life decisions. Honestly? I think it stung, and I believe he withdrew to protect his own feelings and that aforementioned peace. That no matter how much he cared, kaveh’s words were too much of a slap in the face for them to go back. I think he was so fearful that his emotional state would be disrupted that he had no choice but to pull away and force himself to stop caring. Gotta live a peaceful life, right?

I think alhaitham is the type of person who would’ve opened his heart up to his first true friend, the only person he could trust to understand him, and be scared off when said friend refused to understand. And again, I think it says a lot about alhaitham that an entire decade later, after being completely rejected by kaveh once before, he once again allowed him into his life- no, directly offered him a position. He lowered his guard and took kaveh in, knowing his peace would be disrupted and those old feelings would possibly be shaken up once again. Knowing he could get hurt. Just because kaveh needed alhaitham more than alhaitham needed to protect himself.

And I think it’s very interesting how the two most important people in his life are almost at odds in this regard. His grandma, who wants nothing but peace and serenity for him, and Kaveh, whose mere presence seems to disturb all that. I mean, what an interesting dilemma.

[todaystarot]

What Will Your Future Child Love About You?

- a pick a card.

one two three

explanation.

I always see people say that there are many forms of love, not just romantic. Which, they are correct in. Yet, they still have a narrow view on it and refer to friendship as an example, or if they are big hearted their pet… Which is completely fine, I just felt a desire to create a pick a card that’s focused on love but none of those things. I never saw a pick a card with this topic before, neither on youtube or on tumblr. Could just be me though. Felt like making it anyway. If you don’t want children, that’s cool, I chose this topic because I would like to be a mother one day. This reading also applies to the first child you will have, or you know, the next one.

disclaimer.

Remember to take things with a grain of salt, and only take what resonates. Not because I don’t trust my skills, but because several people read pacs, what’s not meant for you could mean the world for someone else. Besides, this is for entertainment and the energy surrounding you or the overall situation could change any second. Life is unpredictable.

how to pick your pile.

There is always several ways to pick a pile, and sometimes maybe multiple call for us. You can pick the one that you can’t take your eyes off, even if there’s another picture you might find prettier. You can ask your guides to guide you in choosing a pile, or go with the old regular closing your eyes and picking whichever one your eyes land on. I usually do that too.

proof read?

Unfortunately no. Please know that I would never put anything in my PAC with harmful intentions towards you or anybody else.

one

You, my dear pile one will be so loved for so many reasons! It’s truly incredible. Even though you might not think that you will be an awesome parent - maybe now, maybe in the future -, trust me, your child will think otherwise! First of all, they will have this adoration towards you staying calm even in stressful situations and knowing how to handle things, how to take care of them and provide a solution and smooth things out. This is will make them feel safe next to you, and with time calm down as they see that you yourself are calm too. Of course, you wouldn’t always be calm, but you wouldn’t show even when you are scared so there is someone grounded in the situation that can take charge even if just on an emotional level. - I am saying this because your spouse will help you out when things are hard, not because you aren’t capable. -

Another thing here seems to be that you will respect their privacy and love life, as long as they are safe you will let them love safely and explore their interests as much as they need to in order to be happy. You let them be independent all while allowing them to rely on you and come to you when they need it. They know that this isn’t something everyone has, so they are all the more grateful to have someone like you as their parent. You are not invasive, you are not judgmental but so full of love, acceptance and understanding towards them. Maybe because you had a childhood where you weren’t happy, so you will do your best to give them everything good that you couldn’t get to have. Full of love, and they will remember it for the rest of their life.

📜 nine of swords, two of cups reversed, four of cups, page of swords reversed, queen of cups side ways, knight of swords side ways - facing the other way -, three of wands

confirmation.

high school musical , adele , nelly - dilemma , ‘i will love you till the day that I die , someone in this pile had to give up on their dream to be a singer/musical artist, hamilton, ‘vanessa open the door please’, ‘ (…)running out of time’ , 777 , city girl , virgo - do you have tummy issues? - , rihanna & eminem / asap rocky , pink nails but w a lot of charms , diverse pile

two

Alright, so I will be honest with you. Your next child will have some developmental issues, but not necessarily life threatening ones. - neither in a sense of d*ath or having trouble living on their own. they will just need a bit of help. - While asking your questions I stuttered a lot despite being calm, so I honestly think your child will have speech issues. Maybe potentially this could be genetic, or anything of the sort.. They will love you because even if you will have a hard time, where your mental health or emotional state will be tested you will never ever in your life will give them a hard time for whatever it is that they are struggling with. You will be loving, kind, gentle and patient with them. Instead of forcing them to learn in a pace which will stress them out you will be the one to learn how to understand what works best for them, and do that. They will really appreciate this. Honestly, regardless of whatever this issue is, I feel sorry because they have such a sensitive heart. Even if they shouldn’t, there is just some things they take to the heart and might feel like they are the problem even though they didn’t do anything. Such a pure child, the sort that’s very well behaved, kind to adults and friendly to their peers.. so these thoughts really could just come from overhearing and misinterpreting conversations or perhaps just overthinking. The funny thing is, I do think you would be their safe haven because they know you would never judge them no matter what heartbreak they are going through. It’s like they can’t imagine a life without you.

Now, I don’t mean to be an asshole or scare anyone unnecessarily. I am not a doctor and I will never be, but the ace of cups reversed here can represent miscarriages or pregnancy complications. So please if you are a woman look after your health. I don’t mean to scare you bc at the end of the day this is a collective general reading and we don’t know each other, but it’s always nice to look after your health regardless.

On a MUCH brighter note though, they will truly appreciate whenever you support their interests. They might be a book worm, so if this is something you two have in common they could happily share their interests with you! They will do it regardless, but your baby would get so excited if you show interest in them.

You will also stand next to them and support them no matter what they go through in life, let that be good or bad, which is something they will really appreciate.

📜 six of pentacles reversed, knight of pentacles, four of wands, ace of cups reversed, the heirophant, the high priestess, seven of pentacles

confirmation.

twilight , renesme , butterflies , cross necklace , bbc , orange hair and freckles - this is for someone who will have a little boy - , ocean green eyes , what was I made for - Billie Eilish , 5sos , ‘i bet on losing dogs’ , mother mary , flashing lights , genetic , obsession with beats / drums ? - not for the child, a reader in this pile -

three

Your child, will sometimes give you headaches.. but they will really love you. If you have ever seen modern family then they sort of remind me of Hailey in the earlier seasons. Bratty, picks fights, doesn’t always understand where her mom is coming from but sees all the hard work that she does and appreciates and loves her mother - both parents really - quite deeply. Not to say I am calling your child bratty, or a brat. That’s not where I am going with this, rather your guides pulled towards letting you know this first so you don’t misunderstand the rest of the reading.

They will, first of all, love that you will give them everything that you can. Y’all will be pretty well off. Not only will you guys be able to live comfortably but they will have a few unnecessary things that they don’t even need or probably forget about in a few years after getting it. They are not ungrateful, rather the opposite. They know this is a privilege, they don’t look down on those less fortunate than you guys, they are just grateful that they have a parent that cares about them so much they would give them everything they ask for, even if things aren’t always the brightest. You also, always, without any question get them out of any trouble or uncomfortable situation and defend them. Won’t matter if they are in the wrong or not, that’s your baby and you will stand by them!

They also love to travel with you! They enjoy your company a lot and to make memories, they always look forward to exploring the world with you. They might also follow you around like a little duckling, even if you only go to the store or to do some super boring errands. Honestly, your kid is an extrovert and super clingy. In a cute way though for sure.

Your dynamic with them reminds me of a tiktok I saw months back, where the teenage kid was piggy back riding the mom and she was annoyed as she recorded saying “look what I have to deal with”, but in reality she truly just appreciated the love. Such an easy going and regular pile, love that for y’all.

📜 nine of pentacles, seven of pentacles, the hermit reversed, knight of swords, four of wands, six of swords, three of wands

confirmation.

thrift shop - macklemore , old house in the balkans/europe in summer - ?? so specific, did you travel back to your home country in summer or planned to? - , moonlight , witch craft , snake , ‘i know a place we can escape ‘ , those fluffy slippers that are like plushies & soft pjs , airplanes , power wires , lime - & cheetos ?? -

[back2bluesidex]

Slide - The Other Side - MYG (18+)

Pairing: Producer!Yoongi X Lyricist!Reader 

Theme: Angst, smut, unplanned pregnancy. Fwb to ?

Word count: 1.6k+

Summary: 

I shot back, then she told me I should speak up "I can't even hear you through the speaker"

Alternatively, 

No matter how much Yoongi had been trying to compile his focus and pour it all on Gyuri, his mind kept reeling back to you.

Warnings: angst, yoongi is a dilemma, he is suffering quite a lot too.

Listened to Slide by Chase Atlantics

Minors do not interact!!

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Patreon (for early access)

A/N: Very first Yoongi's POV.

Taglist requests are closed for now

Read the next chapter

It is a human instinct to seek for what we don’t have and try to get our hands on it. 

Be it tangible or intangible - human beings will always run after what they don’t own and what they think they need. 

Yoongi is a human. 

So he, too, ran after everything he is not, everything he thought would fill the gaps of his soul, fit like a missing piece of a puzzle and make him whole. 

Hence, he fell in love with Lee Gyuri. 

Given the fact that Gyuri is everything he is not, he thought she would make him a perfect sphere. He thought his imperfectly titled earth would stand straight and spin round.

However, alarms of his mind set off very loudly whenever Gyuri brought forth the topic of marriage and kids and living together. 

He himself came from a broken family. He witnessed how his father and mother were once so in love but then suddenly they were drifting apart. 

A part of him believes that marriage ruins love. And he wanted to stay in love, without having to exchange vows and reproduce another life. 

But to his dismay, Gyuri thought his idea of love was absolutely absurd and it doesn’t make any sense. In the end, she decided to leave him, saying that his cold shoulders are hard to take, his distant persona hurt her beyond measure and that she thinks she’s the only one who is keeping this relationship alive. 

Hence, his four year old relationship came to an end just like that. 

Gyuri walked away and she took the larger part of yoongi with her. The part that was left, was unable to fall in love, unable to feel anything concrete, just unable to process human connection anymore. 

If Gyuri thought he never loved her properly, she should have seen him after her departure. Yoongi was devastated, broken, shattered beyond repair - and you only fall too hard when you climb too high, you only break too much when you love too hard. 

Yoongi wished Gyuri knew.  

For once Yoongi wished to be seen. 

And Yoongi felt seen. 

Yoongi felt the feeling of being seen in every corner of his skin, deep in his bones each and every time you looked at him with those knowing eyes. 

Ever since that night you picked him up, you have always looked at him with kindness. There was no pity, no curiosity in your eyes to unsettle him. 

If he dares to add then he has perceived affection in those eyes of yours. And by some magical force, you made him open up - something even Gyuri couldn’t do. 

If he is honest enough to admit then he would say that he was afraid of opening up to his former girlfriend, what if she ran away (which she did regardless).

But somehow you felt like a safe space - he could show the real him, the one that is scared and weak, and you wouldn’t judge him, you would embrace him (which you did every single time). 

And that is what kept him coming back to you again and again. 

Those quiet nights of shared understandings soon turned into something more - skin on skin, hands on body, mouth on mouth. Yoongi hated none of it. 

Yoongi started liking it all way too much. 

Soon enough he realized, it’s not always important to fill up each gap, to seek for a person who is everything we are not. 

Sometimes peace comes from alikeness. 

Sometimes peace comes from someone very much like you. 

And you are very much like him. 

Just like him you, too, belong to a broken family, prone to close yourself up around people, you don’t laugh too loud, talk too loud, you don’t say things you don’t mean. 

You like maintaining a distance. 

You like to hide behind a facade. 

Again, you are just like him. 

Even after knowing his views towards commitment, you never questioned him once. You never asked why he thinks what he thinks. You never once asked for anything more than what he could offer. You never demanded recognition from him. 

You never said anything but still Yoongi knew that you were falling in love with him. 

And right on that moment he knew - you would have been the one for him. Only if you two could travel to a parallel universe, where he wasn’t so pathetically in love with Gyuri, he would allow himself to fall for you. 

That day when Gyuri came back, when she gracefully stepped into his life again as if nothing happened - he didn’t know what to feel or what he was feeling. 

He didn’t know what if he was more happy or more regretful that the sand castle he built with you was about to tumble down sooner than he expected. 

He always feared waves but Gyuri in the shape of a wave - he both feared and loathed it. 

His sense of fear and resentment heightened when he felt you touching his knee under the table. You are just too kind, way too kind for your own good. 

You stayed in this arrangement even after knowing Yoongi wouldn’t be able to return your feelings and you were still trying to comfort him when you yourself knew things were coming to an inevitable end. 

At that moment Yoongi wished he never loved Gyuri to begin with. 

“I will not force you to do anything you don’t want, Yoongi. I promise, I will not fight. Let’s give each other another chance please. I- I have been missing you terribly.” Gyuri had said standing behind the closed wooden door of the meeting room. 

Yoongi’s heart lurched inside his chest a bit. 

But it’s not the flattering kind. 

When he looked into her eyes, he found sincerity but he couldn’t see himself reflecting in them. 

That is why he said, “I don’t know, Gyuri. I don’t think it will be ideal for us -” 

“I know the damage is done. But please please let’s try once more. Three months, let’s try for three months, for the sake of old times, our memories, for our love. I love you, Yoongi. And I know you love me too. So, please.” Gyuri had cut him off desperately. 

Yoongi thought then. Getting into this trial with Gyuri would mean leaving you behind. Leaving you behind would mean setting you free from his grasps. 

If Yoongi sets you free, you can move on and find everything that he can’t provide you with - love, a lover, maybe even a home. 

So he had said yes.

“I love you so much.” Gyuri murmured on his chest. 

“I love you too.” Yoongi didn’t mean it. 

“.... but the lyrics just won’t come out. I have been trying to write ….” 

For a fleeting moment, Yoongi heard Gyuri saying something about the lyrics but his brain didn’t register anything solid. 

He had been zoning out, staring at the door, waiting for you to come in with your notebook and ipad, give everyone a tight-lipped smile and a muffled greeting and settle somewhere near him. But you were nowhere to be found.  

When the door creaked open, his heart creaked too, only to be disappointed when Namjoon slipped in. 

A moment later his heart creaked and cracked even more when Namjoon announced you had withdrawn from the project. 

He should have felt relieved then. This is what he wanted, he wanted to set you free from his painful grip. 

But that didn't mean he wouldn’t feel an unexplainable pain in his chest. 

That didn’t mean he wouldn’t feel something important sliding through his fingers. 

At that moment Yoongi realized, he did the forbidden. 

He got attached to you. 

Every pore in Yoongi’s body oozed relief when he saw you for the first time in a month. 

You look distressed but you look beautiful regardless. 

He tried his best to appear nonchalant, stoic so that you don’t get a hint of the tempest that had been raging inside of him. 

No matter how much he had been trying to compile his focus and pour it all on Gyuri, his mind kept reeling back to you - how you silently cried with him that night, how you didn’t hold him back when he left, how you didn’t object when he ended it all. 

For once he wished you wouldn’t be so much like him. 

For once he wished for you to ask something more from him. 

“I can take care of it myself, Yoongi. You have a life to lead, you have better days ahead now, why would you even care about me? I was just a fleeting chapter anyway. Please- please don’t act like our time together meant anything to you. Please, I beg.” you broke down right before his eyes. 

If he is reading between the lines properly then is that animosity? 

Are you angry with him? 

If he riles you up more will you confess? Will you ask for more?

Will you… will you ask him to come back? His thoughts swirled inside him making him feel dizzy.

“wasn’t it a given? A silent agreement that our time together wouldn’t mean much to any of us?” he pushed you more, even though he knew it wasn’t the right thing to say but he tried to pull the truth or the demand or whatever might it be, out of you. 

And he didn’t even know why? 

What does he even want? 

Does he want you? Even the thought of wanting someone other than Gyuri scared him to death. 

You nodded, “Yeah. You are right. Forget I have said anything. Bye.” 

And with that you were gone. 

For the second time in life Yoongi faced a loss. 

However, unlike the first time, this time it was his fault. This time, he knew, a second chance would probably never come by. 

He should have felt relief. 

He felt a prospect of quiet, peaceful love sliding through his fingers instead.

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[merci-bitch]

So long, farewell

Angelique Bouchard x fem!reader

Summary: When you are reborn as a Collins, Angelique faces a dilemma.

Warning(s): angst?

A/N: hi! Been a long time, now this one is long. Quite long. I absolutely loved writing it, specially the first bits. I’ve had the honour of getting help from @arewecoolio . You’re an absolute doll and I thank you dearly for helping me with this! Xx

Now if there are any spelling mistakes or such, please let me know and I will fix it!

Taglist: @escapetodreamworld

Through the dark corridors of the manor, a woman was walking with her head held high, despite being a maid. A bucket in hand. The sound of her heels clicking against the marble floors, and the flush of the water brushing up against the sides of the bucket echoing throughout the corridors. Rounding the corner of the corridor, she lowered herself to the floor and began washing the surface beneath her. The French doors leading to the balcony in front of her open, letting in fresh air. Despite the cloudy sky, the sun shone through. Lighting up the room and the woman sitting on her knees on the floor. She looked up when she heard sounds coming from outside. She saw the Lord’s son and a woman. She felt a sudden fury arise inside of her. Just as soon as her anger had begun, another sound came, but from behind her. The woman looked behind her. It was you.

“Oh, I didn't know you were washing the floors in this wing of the manor, Angelique.”

Angelique didn't answer you and looked forward again. Only to see the two people on the balcony kiss. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to love her, and only her. Your eyes followed what she was looking at. You slowly lowered yourself to your knees next to Angelique. You saw the intense look in her eyes and the way her knuckles were turning white from the grip on the brush.

It wasn't a secret, at least not to you. You knew of her attraction to the Lord’s son. Perhaps you were the only one who’d noticed. The way she would look at him. In that way, you’d look at her. You knew it was wrong. A woman couldn't possibly love another woman. It was unheard of. It was dirty, and yet Angelique made you feel different. You dipped your brush in the bucket next to the older woman and began washing the floor by the French doors. Catching Angelique off guard.

“What are you doing?” she said. Her tone carried the intense look from her eyes. They were sharp. You almost wanted to run away and hide from the gaze—those dark eyes. You'd dream about them.

“Helping you.”

-

Angelique remembers you. She remembers how she wasn't supposed to fall in love with you in the end. It wasn't fully love. Barnabas was her love, yet she couldn't get you off her mind even after you were taken from her. She felt this possessiveness over you. You were innocent. You always looked at her. You never gossiped about men like the other maids did. You were burned into her memory. Your eyes, your face. Everything. Even after she’d cursed Barnabas, you seemed to know everything about her. It was as if you knew she was a witch, but that was ridiculous. No one knew.

When you died, Angelique felt another wave of rage arise from within. You died from an illness that wasn't treatable at the time. She did everything she could think of but nothing worked, and for the first time in her life Angelique felt as if she was failing someone. Of course, the feeling went away quickly. It wasn't like her to suddenly show mercy to her feelings. She wasn't a failure.

She was by your bedside when you passed. Seeing the life disappear from your eyes made Angelique feel strangely empty. Why, she couldn't understand. She didn't love you. Despite your confession to her just then, but then again you wouldn't leave her mind. After your death, she kept seeing you everywhere. Your scent kept following her. As time passed Angelique became more of what she was. Creating her own story of ancestors into the new world, you still followed her. She never thought you'd be reborn as a Collins and ruin her plans yet again.

-

“Oh, it is lovely to see you again.”

“It's nice to be able to come back, mum. I know that I said I would come back sooner, but with graduation taking up a lot of thought and time and then you know I just had to travel with my father,” you said with a smile. You looked up and looked into the eyes of your mother.

“You may look like me, but this spontaneous side of you certainly came from your father.” your mother said. Flicking the hair out of your eyes.

“I hardly know what you mean. I am pure innocence.” you grinned. “Is Carolyn in yet?”

Elizabeth scoffed. “As if she ever leaves her room. Now, I do have one more important thing to discuss with you. You see, we have a guest.”

“A guest? Is it someone I know?” You asked curiously as you walked up the stairs alongside your mother. The house seemed to look so much different from when you were here last. Or perhaps that was just the boarding school talking.

“No, you don’t but he is family. His name is Barnabas Collins, the third.” She said with an unweary tone. It confused you. Was this relative, not someone she liked? Then why were they here?

“Is everything alright mum? He isn’t dangerous is he?” You joked.

“Dangerous? Whatever do you mean?”

“You know, like a vampire or something.” You gestured with your fingers to your mouth. Creating fake fangs. The look of short horror in your mother’s eyes spoke differently to the joke. Not seeing the fun in it at all.

“Will you stop that at once? Behave yourself. Go and unpack your things in your room.” Your mother pointed in the direction of your room. You held your hands up in defence, grabbed ahold of your bags, and walked further up the stairs and down the corridor to the right. You walked further down the corridor and opened the door to your room. The chill hit you immediately like a slap in the face. It sent a shiver down your spine. With a breath, cold enough to see it echo out in the room, you stepped in and closed the door behind you.

This room could have used a duster. You walked over to the large windows and with a small struggle, you finally got them open. Walking back into the center of the room you started unpacking when you suddenly heard a loud banging from downstairs. You walked over to the window again, only to see a red car in the courtyard out front. It looked far too fancy to belong to your family but perhaps this was the relative your mother spoke of?

Leaving the clothing item in your hands on the bed, you walked out of the room and down the corridor again to see whoever it was that was banging an awful lot at the door. As you got closer to the main entrance and living room you heard voices. Looking around the corner from the top of the stairs you saw your mother with her back towards two people. A dark-haired man and a blond woman. The more you stretched out to see, the less room you had on the step.

Upon your noise from the stairs, Elizabeth turned around.

“Ah, Y/N, this is Barnabas.” She pointed to the man who then turned around. A small gasp left your lips. The man was pale like snow. A tall and strong figure and dark eyes. The woman behind him seemed frozen in her spot.

“Hi.” You said and waved as you walked down to stand next to your mother. Barnabas reached out a hand to shake yours. It was awfully cold and your mother seemed to notice your hesitation as you shook his hand, hence the nudge to your side.

“And this is Angelique. She owns Angelbay.” Elizabeth said with a tight lip. “Angelique, Barnabas, this is my oldest daughter Y/N.”

The woman walked forward and shook your hand. Her grip is tight. Her eyes were dark, but shining in a way that intrigued you. Her eyes looked like they were searching for something in yours, and she wouldn’t let go of your hand as you tried to pull away. Her grip only tightened.

“It’s uh, nice to meet you ms. Bouchard.” You said, sending a glance your mother’s way. Asking for help perhaps? But as you looked back at the woman in front of you, you felt that sudden feeling again. A feeling you couldn't quite explain. Not even if you tried to.

“You’re someone we haven’t seen around here before. Where have you been hiding this one, Liz?” Angelique turned to your mother and said. The movement with her head was almost doll-like. Despite turning her attention to your mother, she didn’t let go of your hand.

“She lives with her father in England. He shipped her off to boarding school.” Elizabeth said, her eyes finding Barnabas’s behind Angelique’s back.

“England? How unusual. Seems like such a waste to ship her so far away.” As she said the last part, her grip tightened even more. You hissed slightly as you felt the bones in your hand start to grind together. Finally tearing your hand away from her grip, you let out an awkward chuckle. Drying your now sweaty hand on your trousers. The woman in front of you looked almost offended as you rubbed your wrist with your other hand, but the expression was quickly changed to something else. As if she’d let her mask slip.

You heard your mother speak, but you didn't hear what she said. The woman in front of you was far too intriguing. She terrified you, but at the same time, there was just something about her that you couldn’t quite place.

Angelique couldn’t believe her eyes. Was this some kind of punishment sent from her ancestors? Sending you back to her, as a Collins? And as Elizabeth’s daughter out of all? As if she didn’t have enough trouble with Barnabas coming back. Her only love. You just had to be reborn. And you just had to choose to be reborn now. Like Barnabas, you hadn’t changed a bit. Despite being reincarnated again, and being born from another mother. Your eyes. Those same eyes that had told her the truth so many centuries ago. A truth she didn’t believe. Did you remember her like she remembered you? Was this some hideous trick of faith? Of course not. Angelique made her pathway to faith.

-

You’d imagined your life coming back to your mother’s would have been strange, but you hadn’t imagined this. Ever since that encounter on the stairs, not only had your mother been acting weirdly towards you, but so had this new relative of yours. Barnabas.

You’d heard of the story of David’s mother, Laura. It was heartbreaking to see the boy still walking around claiming he’d spoken to his mother. In some way, you could relate to losing a parent. After all these years, despite having your father, someone was missing. You would never mention it to your mother. She seemed to have enough on her plate, not only with just Carolyn.

This doctor. Julia Hoffman. Your mother spoke so highly of her. With sarcasm. Despite your mother’s information that Julia was sleeping off one of her hangovers, she still walked into the dining room with a glass in hand.

And this Vicky. She seemed sweet enough, but something wasn't right with her either. Barnabas seemed exceptionally taken by her. It was a little sweet, but it certainly wasn't what you expected.

Perhaps it was just because you were an outsider at the moment. You didn't truly know anyone. Sure, you knew your mother and your half-sister. Your uncle and his son, but did you genuinely know them? The real truth was no. As you walked through town, this wasn't something you could remember from when you were last here as a child. Your mother had told you of how Angelique had burned the Collins business to the ground with her own company. Angelbay. Despite the name, you had the feeling she was far from an angel.

As you weren't a child anymore and hardly needed supervision, you took a walk. Since nobody else seemed to be even the slightest interested in showing you around, you figured you’d do it yourself. You'd seen a bookstore, a record shop, and a small diner. Being this close to the sea would have been nice if it wasn't for the awful smell of fish the closer you got. You stood by a fence, looking out over the water. The sky was concealed away by the clouds.

“Don’t you have far more interesting things to do?”

A voice from behind you spoke. Startling you out of your trance. Looking behind you, you saw that same woman from earlier today. Although now she wasn’t wearing that skirt. She was wearing trousers.

“Oh, hello again ms. Bouchard. I was just taking a look around town.” You said, suddenly feeling nervous under her gaze.

“Please, call me Angie. No need for such, formalities.” She said with a wide smile. Her tone was teasing as she spoke. She walked up the few steps and stood next to you, leaning up against the fence. Turning herself towards you.

“Of course, I was only being polite.” You said as an apology. Looking down at your hands. You felt so out of place here. It was as if you’d arrived in a whole different world. If Angelique noticed, she didn’t say anything.

“How are you liking the town so far? I’d expected Liz to show you around.” Angelique said, purely faking her enjoyment.

“It’s nice, I suppose. A bit different to what I’m used to. She was supposed to but something came up and here I am.” You shrugged your shoulders and gave a small smile to the woman in front of you.

“How about I give you a little tour then, hm? Finish off with some dinner?”

“Oh, Angie that’s real sweet of you but you’re obviously a very busy lady. I couldn’t possibly ask you to do that.” You tried to reason.

“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t have the time, and it is my responsibility on behalf of the town council to welcome new members to Collinsport,” Angelique said, her tone firm.

“Oh, alright then. Why not?” You said with a small smile and then followed her back down to the road.

-

You felt very uneasy with all the eyes staring at you and you were certain that it wasn’t because you were new in town but because of a certain blond sitting across the table from you.

“Would you like to leave?” She asked calmly. She seemed used to having so many eyes on her.

“What? No, of course not. I’m just not used to, you know.” You said, trying to gesture with your hands.

“Not used to having dinner with a woman, you mean,” Angelique said as she leaned back in her seat. Bringing the coffee cup up to her lips to hide her smirk.

“No! I didn’t mean it like that. This is great. You’re great. I just meant-“

“You think I’m great? My, completing me already? Darling, I’d thought I’d at least buy you dinner first.” Angelique‘s smirk only grew as she spoke. Despite this not being her original plan, she wouldn’t deny herself the fact that she was enjoying herself. You really hadn’t changed a bit. Even now, you still resolved to a blushing mess before her. She’d forgotten how much she had had you wrapped around her finger.

“Buy me dinner? You don’t need to do that. What I meant was all the staring.” You leaned in and whispered the last part to her. Trying not to let her teasing affect you. Angelique leaned in as well and didn’t look away from the eye contact she held with you.

“Oh, it’s no trouble, darling. It seems that they are just as interested in this new thing coming into our town as I am. It is not every day we have a newcomer.”

“You must be used to all the eyes on you all the time. I mean you’re practically famous!” You said popping a chip into your mouth with a small smile. Angelique let out a chuckle.

“I know how to do business right and so have the women in my family. I won’t stoop so low to not walk around without everyone’s respect. But not all like me, you know.” Angelique said, taking another sip of her coffee.

“Who?”

“Your mother for one.” She said. Her eyes suddenly sharpened when you looked down at your plate. Crying your fingers on the napkin in your lap before looking up again. Her eyes changed once again, as quickly as the wind.

“Half the time I’m sure my mother doesn’t even like me. You’re not special.” You said without even realising it.

“Not special am I? Now that’s a first. I must admit.” Angelique gasped. Enjoying the way you suddenly choked on your drink in realisation.

“Oh my god. I am so sorry Angelique. I didn’t mean it like that. Please believe me.” You almost begged. Angelique only hummed at you, with a small smirk on her lips as she paid the bill and walked out of the diner and stopped by her car.

“I apologise for what I said, Angie. Truly. You must know I didn’t mean it like that.” You said, hoping you hadn’t offended her.

“I know what you meant. I would have thought you and Liz were the best of friends.” She croaked her head to the side, watching you. Leaning up against the side of her car. Her skin shone in the darkness from the pale light of the streetlamp.

“Well, I suppose not. I feel like I hardly know anyone. Especially not that new relative that showed up all of a sudden according to Mum. Barnabas or whatever his name was.” You shrugged, not noticing how Angelique’s body language changed at the mention of his name. Her ears spiked and her body reacted to it like a drug.

“No?” She asked with fake curiosity. Crossing her arms.

“You met him. He is very strange, but sweet I suppose. They all stare at me, much like those people in there.” You pointed at the diner. “You’re the only one who hasn’t looked at me strangely, and I hardly know you.” You risked a glance at the older woman in front of you.

Angelique hummed again before replying. “Some people are special. Different from others. Some people who are different can only understand each other.”

As she spoke, you thought she talked about you. In reality, she spoke about someone else.

In the end, all you did was shrug your shoulders as a response to what she said. You looked up at the sky and sighed.

“I should probably be heading home, Mum’s probably worried sick already. It was nice meeting you under different circumstances, Angie. You’re not as bad as they say, or as my mother says. Thank you for today.” You gave the woman a smile to show your gratitude before turning slowly away to walk on the payment beside the diner.

“Where are you going, Y/N?”

It was the first time you’d heard her say your name. It sent a shiver through you. The way your name rolled on her tongue made it sound so different from when everyone else said it. You turned around in time to see her open the car door.

“Well?” She said with a raised eyebrow. “Are you getting in or what?”

“Oh, it isn’t necessary. I can walk-“

The glance she gave you was enough to make you shut up and walk those few steps towards her and get into her car. She closed the door and walked around the car and got in the driver's seat. As she turned on the engine, she gave you a wink.

Angelique might not have been entirely sure what she was doing with you. You didn’t remember her, and even though she remembered you and your confession of love to her on your deathbed, she didn’t need you. On the other side though, you were suddenly a way to get to him.

-

“And where have you been all day?”

You turned around and saw your mother leaning against the doorframe of her office. She must have heard you come in.

“Out. Seeing town, and making new friends.” You shrugged and turned to leave, but she grabbed your arm and pulled you inside. “What are you doing?” You asked, shrugging out of her hold.

“And out of all the people in town, you chose Angelique as your new ‘friend’?!” Your mother nearly shouted at you.

“What is your problem, mum? Honestly. There’s nothing wrong with her. She was being nice, and she showed me around town and then bought me dinner. That’s all. It’s not like you went with me.” You scoffed and walked over to the large window on the right. The one with the view down to town.

“Nothings wrong with her? She’s a-“

“A what mum?” You turned around, glaring at her. Daring her to continue her sentence. Elizabeth gave up, took a breath and walked up to you, grabbing you by the shoulders.

“Look Y/N, there are some people who are different. Some people do not wish us well, and Angelique is one of them. She ran the business to the ground and has continued to poke us out as strangers to this town. I’m only looking out for you, and you know I didn’t leave you to go out alone on purpose, but I certainly did not mean for you to go handholding with our enemy.”

“Enemy? What is this, seventh grade? She was nice to me mum. She didn’t look at me weirdly like you all do, and she for one seemed genuinely interested in spending time with me.” You turned around again and looked out the window. You felt your mum’s grip on your shoulders tighten.

“Please promise me that you’ll not meet up with Angelique again. She means only trouble.”

You let out a heavy sigh and unwillingly agreed. You didn’t listen to what your mum then later said. Something about rebuilding the Collins fish business. Your mind kept wandering back to the diner. To the day you spent with Angelique. To the way she kissed your cheek before you got out of the car. Purely innocent and done as a friendly gesture of course, but it left you feeling different each time you thought of it. Developing a schoolgirl crush on your family’s sworn enemy on the first day of meeting her surely was something. If not the wrong thing.

-

As time went on, you did your best to obey your mother’s order to stay out of Angelique’s way, but of course, rules are meant to be broken. Technically It wasn’t you, it was her. It was always her these days. You couldn’t get her off your mind. You’d seen her in town and always looked her away. Even unknowingly. Now that the family business was up and running again, it caused even more tension to grow between your family and Angelique herself.

You felt as if you were stuck in the middle of it all. She wasn’t all that bad, was she? She had only ever been kind to you. Your mother and Barnabas kept whispering in secret at times. You always wondered if it was about her. Angelique. He seemed to know her, which surprised you when he was visiting from England himself. And if you were to believe your mother saying it was the first time he was visiting, how could he possibly know her? You almost felt jealous. Not only by the attention he was given by your mum but by the attention given by Angelique.

It sounded ridiculous, you hardly knew Angelique. Sure, she had shown you around town and bought you dinner, but that was it and since your mother had forbidden you to meet her, It was quite impossible. But there was just something about her that caused your mind to wander. Daydreaming had never been something that had affected you, that was until now. She was everywhere in your thoughts.

“Y/N!”

You jumped as you heard someone bark your name. Turning to your side, finding your mother standing there with crossed arms and a rather disapproving look on her face.

“Eh, sorry. What do you say?” You cleared your throat and sat up straighter. Trying not to make it look like you were just caught daydreaming. Again.

“What on earth is going on with you? You’re hardly listening to me at all. And this isn’t the first time this has happened. What’s gotten your mind so occupied you can’t even think to listen to me when I speak to you?” Your mother barked at you. Staring at you intensely. You suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

“Nothing mum. I promise. I just haven’t slept well, that’s all. I’m sorry.” You tried to reason. Hoping she’d fall for the bait and leave it alone.

“Perhaps you should see Julia.”

Now this surprised you.

“What? No. Of course not. I’m fine. I promise.” You said as you stood up and pushed the chair you’d been sitting in, in. “I think I’ll take a walk. You know, to clear my head.”

“This is about Angelique, isn’t it?”

You froze.

“What? Why would you say that?”

“You’ve been acting weirdly ever since I told you, you couldn’t see her again or under any circumstances talk to her.”

“I’ve been acting weirdly? Says the woman who’s been whispering in secret with this new relative who showed up out of the blue.” You sparked back at her. How dare she?

“Barnabas and I aren’t secretly whispering and he is as much a Collins as you are.”

She kept on going with her speech. Your mother was always wise when it came to words and at this moment, she seemed to favour him over you. So you left for that walk.

-

Summer was going away as the leaves were falling off the trees and the clouds coming back with rain every other minute. The air was damp but cool. Perfectly enough to help you cool down. You’d never been the one to raise your voice at your parents, but your mother seemed out of line these days.

As you walked alongside the shops, the wind was getting harsher. The clouds were getting darker too, and you could almost smell the incoming rain, but it didn’t bother you. You stepped into a coffee shop as the sky finally opened up. Just barely making it inside without getting drenched. You sat in a corner booth and drank your tea while watching the rain fall. Rather depressing, but given the circumstances it felt right. Perhaps the only right thing to do after a fight with your mother. It made you miss your father and your home.

“Is it just me, or are you always alone?”

A voice behind you spoke. You turned around and felt the air leave your lungs for just a second.

“Angelique.”

“So you do speak. I was almost certain your tongue had been cut off.” Angelique said as she sat down opposite you.

“Oh, no I haven’t been ignoring you if that’s what-“

“Oh, but that’s exactly what you’ve been doing, isn’t it? Did Mommy finally tell the tale to scare you away from me?”

“You know that’s not true Angie.” You tried to defend yourself. You knew it was useless as she had some right in what she was saying.

“Isn’t it? It wouldn’t surprise me. Liz has always seen me as the big bad wolf. I can leave if you’d like.” She said, halfway out of her seat.

“No! Please, don’t go.” You said, rather fast. If not too fast. And a bit louder than you would have liked. Angelique’s lips curled into a grin and sat back down again. Lightning a cigarette.

“So tell me, why the sudden silence? I thought we were friends.” She said as she blew out the smoke.

“Yes I know, and I’m sorry. Truly.”

“Funny, I’m suddenly getting déjà vu from this conversation.”

You looked down at your hands. A small sense of guilt finally creeping up on you. You suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

“How about we talk somewhere else, hm?”

You looked up and saw her staring at you rather intensely. With a small nod, you got up from your seat and followed her out in the rain. Knowing your mother would probably have a fit if she knew what you were doing right now. You got into her car and let her drive off to whatever place she had in mind.

That place being her house. It wasn’t what you had imagined when she’d offered to speak somewhere else. It was a house on a hill a little further away from town and of course, it was a big one. Despite the big house, it didn’t look as modern as you thought on the inside. Sure, marble floors in the hallway and a massive golden mirror, but it was elegant. Fitting for someone like Angelique. You suddenly felt even more out of place.

You nearly jumped as you felt someone come up behind you, only to remember it was Angelique herself. She’d pulled off your coat. With a hand on your lower back, she lead you into the house. The room on your left was the living room. A room with windows looking out over the town, much like the ones in your mother’s office. Two big white sofas surrounding a fireplace.

“You have a beautiful home,” you said as you looked around. Large paintings hanging on walls. On the other side of the room was a record player. You couldn't help but let curiosity get the better of you, and walked over. You peeked through all the records she had. Most of them being French. You should have guessed it. She did have a rather French name after all.

“Have a thing for music, do you?”

You turned around to see Angelique holding two glasses of wine and an amused expression on her face.

“Oh, I didn't mean to look through your things. I was just curious.”

Angelique nodded her head towards the sofa closest to the fireplace and sat down. You walked over and sat down next to her but at a distance. She handed you one of the glasses but you refused politely.

“What, you don’t drink?”

“I’ve never had alcohol before no. My father doesn’t really drink. Well, not unless it’s scotch.”

“Try it.”

You had a feeling she wasn’t going to give up so you did. It tasted bitter and you made a face as the liquid went down. A laugh arose from the older woman next to you before taking a sip of her own. “You’ll get used to the taste.” She said, closing her eyes and leaning back against the sofa. Basking in the warmth from the fireplace. You couldn’t help but stare at her. It wasn’t intentional but you couldn’t look away. Her pale skin shone in the light from the fire just as it had done with the light from the lamppost that night. You almost wanted to touch it.

Angelique knew you were staring. She had a sixth sense after all, but it felt just like it did all those centuries ago. Your eyes on her at every possible moment of the day. Something in her enjoyed it. She wouldn’t admit it to herself, the fact that some part of her had missed you. Never, but now that her last meeting with Barnabas hadn’t ended well, despite the lustful hour of what she would call love, she couldn’t help but think of the possibilities of having you on her side. What it could mean for her and Barnabas.

She opened her eyes again and caught you staring. You quickly looked away, a blush forming on your cheeks as you’d been caught. A small chuckle came from the woman next to you. Her chuckle was low and sultry, sending a shiver down your spine. Her gaze lingered on you, suddenly cloudy and intense as if she could see right through you. The room seemed to dim around you and the air thick with anticipation, as her hand slowly reached out to touch yours, igniting a forbidden desire within you. You looked down at where her hand suddenly grasped yours, tugging at it. Pulling you closer to her. Your knees suddenly touched hers. You looked up at Angelique again, only to realise how much closer she was. Letting out a gasp as a reaction.

“Don't be shy," she whispered, her voice smooth like velvet. “I don't bite. Well, not unless you want me to.”

The blush that had previously appeared on your cheeks crept up your throat once again. Angelique’s other arm was draped over the sofa’s back. A shiver went through you once more as you felt her fingers trace the skin of your wrist.

“Tell me, how are you getting along with this new relative of yours?”

“He’s nice I suppose. He taught me how to play chess. He’s been spending a lot of time with Vicky. They go down to the water quite a bit with David.” Your eyes had turned to the fireplace, so you didn’t notice the way Angelique’s eyes changed as you mentioned Vicky. She wasn’t going to be a problem much longer. How odd. You being reborn, and Josette too.

“How do you know him?” You asked. Turning back to her, unknowingly curling yourself more towards her. The question caught Angelique off guard. She hadn’t thought of a cover-up story for this.

“We met here in Collinsport. The same day when I met you.”

“Funny, you seemed to know each other, even back then.”

“Funny indeed.”

“I should probably go. It’s getting late, and I wouldn’t want to be a bother.” You said, clearly sensing it had been the wrong thing to ask. As you got up, Angelique grabbed your hand. Her grip was just as tight as the day you met when she wouldn’t let go of your hand. It was giving you déja vu.

“Stay. Have another glass of wine. You’re an adult, aren’t you? Mommy doesn’t need to know where you are all the time.” As she spoke, she filled up your glass and handed it to you, tugging you down to sit.

-

You had shared a bottle. Or mostly, you had drank it. Angelique had had two glasses. It had left you woody, and more unaware of your surroundings than before. Leaving you prey to a predator named Angelique. As the evening went on and the more alcohol you consumed, the more you fell for her trap. Her small touches and her eyes looking you over. You were done for.

Your head was lying on her shoulder. Your body curled into hers as you comforted yourself in the warmth from the other woman. Her fingers were running through your hair. Your eyes were slipping shut and a pleasant hum left your lips. It was a moment someone would have called soft. Not Angelique of course. She wasn’t soft, but she always had a plan.

“Feeling tired, Y/N?”

You hummed in response. Wrapping your arm around her waist to hold onto her. Angelique chuckled to herself. She let you fall asleep curled into her. She hardly knew what time it was, and she didn’t care. The longer you stayed with her, the more of a riff there would be between you and Elizabeth. The more you would be on her side. Of course, it wasn’t because she enjoyed it. Having you so close to her. She was only using you to get to Barnabas. That was what this whole thing was about. Angelique had realised long ago that you didn’t remember anything from your past life, but her plan had always been to use you to get to him.

-

“I love you, Angelique.”

Angelique froze upon hearing those words fall from your lips. She refused to look you in the eye when she moved again. You grabbed her hand and begged her to look at you. Even on your deathbed, you needed to see her one last time. With her by your side, you could pass on peacefully. She didn’t say anything as she sat down. She let you hold her hand. She didn’t understand why you would say such a thing to her. She didn’t love you. She wasn’t sure she liked you. But from the moment you started, you’d been on her side. You had been able to read her like no one had before. Perhaps it was for the best that you were dying. Who knew what you would do if you found out she was a witch?

“I love you.”

She saw the life drain from your eyes. Those three words being the last you said, and the last you said to her left her with a strange feeling. Suddenly, something else was happening to her. She was feeling something other than hatred for Barnabas' denial. She was feeling empty. The anger was quickly coming back. She wouldn’t let the death of you come in her way. No matter how it made her feel.

-

The dream still haunted you. It didn’t feel like a dream. It felt like a memory. Something that happened a long time again that you suddenly remembered, but that wasn’t possible. Was it?

It had been days. Everything was going into chaos. There hadn’t been any time to stop and think about it. Especially not now when the factory was burning up in flames. You’d been in your mother’s office as it happened. She wouldn’t let you leave her eyesight when she found out you’d spent the night at Angie’s. You didn’t remember it. You didn’t remember any of it. The only thing you remembered was that dream. Everything felt so different. Suddenly Julia was missing and nobody knew where she’d gone. Barnabas and Vicky had disappeared as well. You might not have grown up with your mother, but you knew she wasn’t doing well. Something was stressing her more than usual.

As you walked down the stairs to the front doors, you heard sirens. Your mother opened the doors and walked out. You walked out behind her and saw Angelique’s red car pull up alongside a police car. People from the town were gathering in the driveway.

It all went by so quickly as Barnabas suddenly walked out behind you. You’d walked closer to your mother as he suddenly grasped Angelique by the neck. The gasps from the people alongside your own as he bit into her neck echoed throughout your head. Your mother’s accusation of Angie being a witch as she suddenly threw Barnabas back into the house with ease. Her skin looked even paler as she turned around again after greeting the people behind her. It looked as if it was cracking. Like porcelain. A feeling of dread went through you. Perhaps your mother was right after all.

You’d followed your mother back into the house, standing behind her as she fired the shotgun. It all happened in the blink of an eye. The house catching on fire, Carolyn being a werewolf and Angelique making the house bleed. David’s mother’s ghost appeared and screamed Angelique up into the chandelier. Making it crash down into the ground. Your mother carried Carolyn out of the house, screaming for you and David to follow, but you couldn’t. Something in you couldn’t move. Instead, you ran to her.

“Angelique?” You said, your voice trembling with both fear and sorrow. For a reason, you couldn’t understand. That dream came rushing back to you. It wasn’t a dream, was it?

“Angelique, I remember where I’ve seen you before.” You said. You didn’t fully understand what you meant as you spoke, but the woman in front of you did. A glint of something other than pain flashed through her eyes. Her skin looked like a smashed porcelain doll. You looked behind you and saw Barnabas standing there. A scream of your name, coming from your mother made you move. Standing just by the door to see the life drain from Angelique’s eyes as she turned her head towards you.

Something in her was trying to tell you something just before it disappeared. It hit you like a slap in the face. A cry erupted from your lungs as the ceiling fell over Angelique. You almost ran in, had it not been for your mother’s arms dragging you away from the sight of your burning home. It had never been the house or your family. It had always been her. She was your love. Your true love.

[mykoreanlove]

Unraveling fate

It is said that humans live a blissful life as souls up in the sky before they decide to incarnate onto the earthly realms. 

Up there everything is effortless and sweet, so perfect that we couldn’t ever imagine it properly. Yet, they decide to give up their eden perfection to come down to earth. Why you may ask?

Because they get bored. Too much of anything is deadly, even if it’s something as precious as blissful love. 

Hence, they make plans to come down to earth in order to play. Some souls are rather boring, whereas other souls are quite dramatic - making up a full play for them to enjoy. They look for other souls to play their part - mothers, fathers, villains or lovers. 

„You’re gonna do this to me and I’m gonna do that to you and we may hate each other for a while but in the end it will be all so sweet“, they giggle while making plots. What they don’t know though is that once their souls incarnate back to earth, they will forget everything they once knew - scheming plans included. 

The states of feeling mighty and powerful get replaced with vulnerability and insecurity, divinity in exchange for humanity.

A deep sigh escaped Eun Woo’s lips as he watched you cry into your pillows for the fifth time this week. 

„What’s wrong?“, his friend asked concerned.

„It’s y/n.“, he answered flatly.

„What about her?“

Eun Woo turned around and mustered his friend, thinking of the right words to predict his dilemma.

„Do you remember when she used to be with us up here?“

His friend nodded silently.

„Back then we made the perfect plan. We created our own drama, so to say.“

„What was it about?“

Flashbacks of those times entered his mind, filling his heart with a deep longing.

„Are you really sure, y/n?“, Eun Woo whispered while placing delicate kisses on your neck.

„Yes. I want to do it like that this time.“, you nodded enthusiastically.

„My love. Let’s go through the plan once more, then.“

„I will incarnate onto earth and live a miserable life. I will fail in love over and over until I can’t take it anymore. I want to discover love as a fragile, little human. I want to understand their pain and their agony. I want to be miserable, utterly miserable. I want to build my own hell and I want to understand how I’m doing it… And then, once I’m ready, then you show up, BOOM, the love of my life - in heaven and on earth and you rescue me from my deep despair and then we can be..“

„Happy.“, he interrupted. 

A big smile formed on your face. 

„Yes. Happy.“

„So, why are you so sad then? The plan seems solid.“, Eun Woo’s friend remarked.

„Somehow it’s not. She did fail in love. A lot of times. But somehow she can’t get past that stage..“, Eun Woo explained.

„How can that happen? Isn’t it written in the stars, like destiny?“

„It should be, yes.“

Both stayed silent for a while and thought about ways to resolve this. 

„Can’t you just swoop in and rescue her?“

He shook his head sadly. 

„Why not?“

„Because she wouldn’t let me.“

„Let you? Aren’t you like… her soulmate?“, his friend asked confused.

„I am. And because of that I will always find my way back to her, heaven or earth, doesn’t really matter. But she’s not ready for me, yet.“

„How can you tell?“

Eun Woo walked over to the shelf where he was keeping his collection of your play. Each act carefully documented, each act waiting for its grand finale. He came back with a heavy book, searching for the right pages.

„Do you know when souls finally find each other?“, Eun Woo asked.

„No idea.“, his friend remarked.

„It’s when they’re ready for one another. Now tell me - do you think this sounds ready?“, he asked as he pushed the book over to his friend.

It’s official - I am unlovable. Seems like everybody and their mother can find the love of their lives but not me. I’m not meant for love. I’m meant for heartbreak. Because that’s what men do - break your heart. First, they use me for sex and then they dispose me like a tissue. Reject me. Abandon me. Block me.

Relationships suck. Love sucks. This is too hard and it always ends in pain. Fuck this shit, I’m going to die alone. Because apparently nobody wants to be with me. Or get to know me. I’m just not someone you fall in love with.

„Yikes“, Eun Woo’s friend flinched. „Gotta give it to her - she does sound like a real human though.“, he drily remarked.

Eun Woo rolled his eyes in frustration. This shit was eating him up.

Even if he descended onto earth now and forgot about all your pain, he would never be able to get through to you. 

„Men really did a number on her, huh?“, his friend asked. 

„It’s what she wanted. Some drama to enjoy our love more. And drama she got…“, he explained sadly.

„So what are you going to do?“

Eun Woo averted his gaze back onto you, watching you from above as you cried and cried and cried. 

„Waiting for a miracle, I guess.“

„Aren’t you tired of waiting?“

„What else am I supposed to do?“, he snapped.

„The plan is already rigged, you said so yourself. Can’t you use that to your advantage and rig it further?“, his friend proposed.

Eun Woo thought for a second - could he really do that? Go against fate like that? 

Your sobs made his stomach churn once again, he had to act, no matter the consequences.

„Come with me“, he demanded as he left the room.

„Where are we going?“, his friend called after him.

„Rigging the fucking plan.“ 

[lov3rmir]

★ ° * . ` red lipstick smudge `

★ ° ` summary ` after buying a new brand of lipstick, you couldn't decide which you liked best. so you asked for assistance.. ★ ° .

★ * ` mail ` a little ooc alhaithem but not too much, got lazy at the end but i love this <3

AL-HAITHAM—

The acting grand sage was drowning in his work. The pile of paper seemingly never ending, it didn't help he haven't seen you in a while. al haitham missed your scent, the calming yet fresh scent you always wore. The more he thought of you, the more his desire to see you grows. Alas, his duties calls yet again.

You however, had a much more troublesome duty. You had bought two lipsticks, one of which nilou recommended you and another which you had waited for its restock. Now that you had saved up and could afford both, you didn't know what to wear first. It was a dilemma of utmost importance, but you had no one to help you with.

Nilou was busy with the rehearsals, candace was too far to just ask about a lipstick and dehya was off somewhere. You couldn't find the traveler either, nor kaveh. So you decided on your trust worthy lover, The Acting Grand Sage.

Saying hello to the guards, you showed them the permission slips alhaithem gave you if you wanted to visit. This was much easier than to have to go through a whole line. Knocking softly on the doors, his voice invited you in.

“ come in. ” here he was, buried in a pile of paperwork, you almost missed him if his strand of hair wasn't stickin out from his grave. “ busy aren't you? ”

You voice made him look up, for a moment he thought he thought he was imagining it. Maybe all those numbers and words formed his desire and there you stood. But he knew better, that blinding smile can never be mistaken for fake.

He smiled at you, “ what brings you here? ” he asks. You walk over to him showing him the two items who made your hair turn grey. “ I'm having trouble deciding. Can you help, oh Grand Sage? ”

“ Acting Grand Sage. There's a difference. ” he frowned, this made you chuckle, ” yes, yes. Can you help me? Acting Grand Sage? ” he huffed, nodding to you.

You sat where there was space on his desk, smiling and showing him the two different lipstick. “ I'm having second thoughts on which i should use first. Do you think you can help me? ” you tilted your head. Al-haitham stared at you becore taking one of the two you held. He kept staring at it for a good while, you started sweating.

“ turn around. ” you blinked. “ what? ”

“ i said turn around. I have an idea. ” you knew he didn't like repeating himself, so you did as told. “ i dont get why i need to turn around. ” he stayed silent. It wasn't until a moment later you taped you on the shoulder.

Turning around you were about to question him when you felt his lips on yours. They lstayed there for a while, al-haitham had your eyes covered by his hand. And you knew, he definitely felt the redness on his hands. You could feel the smirk he had.

Before long, he stood back. A smile on his face. “ this one suits you best. ” you didn't understand what he meant until he wiped some smudge off his lip. Realization struck you. He wore your lipstick. And he—

Your face heated up. Words failing to form a sentence, you nodded and toke the lipstick. Walking away in a daze. Al-haitham watched you stumble a few time before reaching the door. He called out “ Leave your schedule open tomorrow, I'll have a reservation ready. Wear the lipstick too. Unless you want me to hel— ”

“ NO! Thank you! See you tomorrow! ” you left in a hurry, your face now hotter than ever. Everyone gave you look but ignored you. This isn't the first time you came out of the Acting Grand Sage all flustered.

Al-haitham however, was in his desk. A new found determination to finish all his work before your date. The lipstick still present on his lips.

©— lov3rmir. 2023.

★— @elychee * @eenie-teenieweenie * @simplyxsinned ...★

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

The Christmas Present

This fic will cover my Dates Keep Getting Interrupted square on my 2nd @jacklesversebingo card. ❤️

Summary: Y/N is beginning to wonder just where she fits into Jensen's life. Is she expendable?

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Pretty much all fluff. A wee tiny bit of smut. Just a wisp of oral (f receiving) and unprotected PinV sex. Nothing really explicit. Pretty much a smidge of angst and mostly fluff.

Pairings: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 2,599

A/N: Here is the next request for my second @jacklesversebingo card. This one came from a lovely anon who asked this:

hi! how about an angsty “dates keep getting interrupted” with jensen? something along the lines of him being busy and just simply being swamped with work but reader feels like jensen might not be in love with them anymore.

I basically took that first idea in your request and ran with it sweetie! Hope you enjoy this one. It ran a bit fluffy, but I hope you like it.

The beautiful dividers used here are from @talesmaniac89

Y/N inhaled deeply as she pulled the freshly made pumpkin pie out of the oven. She looked at it with pride; she’d made it from scratch because she knew it was Jensen’s favorite this time of year.

And he was finally coming home. 

For the last month and a half he’d been working all the way across the country and in all that time, they’d been relegated to nothing but video calls and texting. When he took the job the week before Thanksgiving she’d been disappointed they wouldn’t get to spend the holiday together. But as Jensen had assured her, it was only a month of shooting, and he was only one, six hour flight away; they’d visit lots and he’d be home a good week or more before Christmas.

But the shoot had dragged on and on with an inexperienced director and a picky and demanding producer. Everything was so disorganized that Jensen had made it home only one time in those six weeks, and he’d been swamped with press the entire time, as well as trying to fit in meetings with his manager, agent, and another producer considering him for a different project. It meant that in his one day at home Y/N had him to herself for barely more than an hour, during which, he'd been completely, understandably, exhausted.

Four other trips home had been planned, complete with date nights Y/N put together that would allow them to go out together, but also stay in together a lot too. But all four times  those trips and those dates had been canceled. Even a desperately planned skype dinner date had only lasted a half hour before one of the PAs came banging on Jensen's trailer to drag him away to help with some unforeseen dilemma on set.

Y/N was sick with missing him. She knew he missed her too, but lately she’d been wondering...just how much?

How hard was he really trying to get home? How important was she to him? Was she just a girlfriend he was saddled with, someone he was obligated to try and get home to see? Was she just a scheduling conflict - one of the smaller ones, easily brushed aside for something more important?

After their last canceled date, she'd even asked herself the question that terrified her...was he losing interest? After a year and three months of dating...was she still loving him while he had one foot out the door?

Her mind shied away from answering those questions. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answers.

But two days ago he’d called her up to say he was finally going to be wrapped the following day, and he’d be home early Christmas morning. She’d seen his plane ticket and everything; it was going to be the best Christmas present she could get.

So she’d made his favorite pie in celebration.

As she set the pie on the rack to cool, she heard a notification bing, telling her she had a video call from Jensen. She felt knots form in her stomach, but decided he was probably just calling to say he was getting on the plane in a few hours. 

He’d just text you for that, she thought, but she brushed the thought aside.

She sat down at her kitchen table, and clicked her mouse to answer, smiling as Jensen’s face appeared on her laptop screen.

“Hey.” She said, overly cheerful.

“Hey.” He said back, and she could hear the waver in his voice, but she ignored that too.

“How are you?” She asked.

His jaw clenched and she felt her stomach plummet further. 

“I’m…not good…I…” His green eyes looked at her through the screen, regret etched deep into his verdant irises. “I’m so sorry, baby - “ he began, but Y/N cut him off with a cry of disappointment.

“No! No!” She denied loudly. “What the hell? You said you’re wrapped, you said -”

“I know, I know. But they’ve decided they need a shit ton of reshoots, there’s a bunch of stuff they said they didn’t like, and…” He trailed off. “I’m so sorry.”

Y/N turned her face away from the camera as she nodded in heartbroken acceptance, trying to hide her eyes swimming in tears. “But…” she cleared her throat. “This is like the fifth time you’ve had to cancel, can’t they understand that? I mean, it’s Christmas. Why the hell do they need you to work on Christmas?” Her voice rose at the end, anger seeping through to fill in her cracked heart.

“I don’t know.” Jensen said with a shrug, and the gesture made her anger take a swift turn towards him. “It’s Hollywood, they don’t always give a shit about things like national holidays.”

“Well, they should!” She shouted. “I mean, what the hell? Do they think they own you? Why don’t you just tell them to fuck off?”

“Y/N -”

“Seriously, that’s basically what you’ve been telling me to do for the past six weeks, but you can't even tell them once?”

The muscle ticked in Jensen’s jaw again. “Y/N, I’ve spent the last day and a half doing nothing but trying to get them to listen to me, to agree to let me go for a day or two and then come back, but -”

“Wait!” Y/N cut him off. “You’ve known about this for a day and a half and you’re only telling me now?” Her voice was incensed and furious. 

Jensen threw up his hands. “I was hoping I could get out of it, Y/N! I was…look, I’m sorry." His anger was obvious but she couldn't tell if it was directed at her or not. "Don’t you think I’m disappointed too?”

“Are you?” Y/N asked before she could stop herself.

Jensen’s face grew suddenly calm. “What does that mean?” He asked.

Y/N shook her head. “Nothing. It just means that it’s been six weeks, and so many canceled dates and plans, I mean…”

“Five weeks.” Jensen interjected as she paused for a breath.

Y/N scowled at him. “What?”

“It’s only been five weeks.”

Y/N clenched her teeth. “Oh well, excuse me! Then, I guess - who cares?"

Jensen was shaking his head. “No, look I just meant to say that I’m well aware of how long it’s been since I’ve gotten to see you, but…” He looked slightly defeated. “I don’t…I mean, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

Y/N’s heart sank. She smiled sadly and nodded at him. “Yeah, well, you should know. That’s uh…” She sniffed and wiped her fingers across her cheeks. “That’s sort of the problem.”

Jensen opened his mouth to say something, but when he hesitated, Y/N just gave him another broken smile. 

“Merry Christmas.” She said softly before clicking off the call.

***

Y/N sat slumped on her couch with a half eaten pumpkin pie discarded on her coffee table. On the TV, Ebeneezer Scrooge was calling out Merry Christmas to everyone in the street below him, having realized the true meaning and value of Christmas. Y/N’s face was nothing but frowning lips and a scowl as she shut off her TV.

“Bah, humbug.” She countered quietly.

Her heart was actually hurting; a physical ache had taken up residence in her chest and she rubbed her palm over it trying to ease the sting. 

All she could see was Jensen’s face as she'd ended the call. And whenever she saw his face the fear started that it was going to be the last time she saw it - at least the last time off the silver screen.

She’d picked up the phone a dozen times to call him, but she never managed to hit “call” before tossing her phone down and crying some more. Now it was almost one in the morning and she picked it up again. This time she managed to press his name and hit the green call button.

It went straight to voicemail. The beep sounded and she contemplated hanging up. But after a pause she spoke, clearing her throat first.

“Hey, it’s me…but you probably saw that already.” Another long pause. “So…I was hoping you’d pick up, but…you’re probably sleeping. I just…wanted to…”

She paused long enough that she was worried she’d be cut off, so she rushed out the rest. “Just wanted to say I love you.” Her throat caught. “And Merry Christmas.” 

She heard a beep in her ear. “Oh,” she said, surprised, “I’ve got another call.” She saw Jensen’s name on the caller ID and hung up with the voicemail.

“Jensen?” She said tentatively as she answered.

“Hey.” He said softly.

“Hi. I was just…” She let out a burst of slightly nervous laughter. “I just left you a message.”

“Oh?” Jensen asked. “What did you say?”

“Just…just Merry Christmas, and…love you.” She answered, her voice almost shy. Then she burst out full voice. “Jensen I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to -”

But Jensen cut her off. “No, baby, I’m sorry. That’s the whole point.”

The tension eased slightly from their voices and Y/N tried to explain her disappointment. “I just miss you.”

“I know, believe me, I know.”

She was going to say something else, but Jensen spoke first. “I had something delivered to you.”

“You what?” Y/N asked with a laugh of surprise. “You had something delivered to me, from across the country, at one in the morning on Christmas Eve?”

“Yeah, it should have been there by now. It’s probably already sitting on your porch. Go check. But stay on the phone with me cause it’s after midnight.”

Y/N giggled a little breathlessly and ran to the front door. She grabbed her sweater from the peg beside it and pulled it on against the snowy chill outside. She opened the door and peered out, but she didn’t see anything. 

She stepped tentatively outside in her slippers. “There’s nothing here.” She told him. “I hope someone didn’t steal it.” She worried.

“No, it’s okay, I got it.”

Y/N's head whipped around as Jensen’s voice echoed tinnily through the phone. Her face froze as he walked towards her from the side of the porch, holding a box in his hand.

Y/N gasped loudly and then immediately screamed, running forward to throw herself into Jensen’s arms, making him drop the box. She wrapped her arms around him, holding on for dear life

His strong arms wrapped her up, cuddling her close against his thick, navy blue winter coat. She buried her face in his chest and wept unabashedly. He placed a kiss on the crown of her head and then kept his cheek pressed there while she cried her fill of happy tears. She finally pulled back to look up at him, with tear tracks mottling her skin. His big hands were cold as he pushed her hair back and cupped her cheeks.

“What are you doing here?” She asked. “How did you manage this? What did you tell them?”

Jensen shrugged. “Told ‘em to fuck off.” She choked on her laughter as he continued. “I told them in slightly more polite terms, but not by much.”

She shook her head, a worried smile on her face. “But Jensen, you’re gonna get in trouble.” 

“I don’t care.”

“You’re gonna get fired.” 

“I don’t care.”

When she opened her mouth to speak again, he kissed her, sucking away her breath and warming her from head to toe. Then he pulled away before pulling her close, tucking his face into the crook of her neck, and speaking against her skin. “I don’t care about anything more than I care about you.”

He pushed on her shoulders so he could look her in the eye. “You are everything to me Y/N and I need you to know that.”

He cupped her cheeks again, thumbs brushing away her newest tears. “So, to that end…” he bent down and scooped up the box he’d dropped. He brushed the fluffy snow from it and handed it to Y/N for her to open. “Merry Christmas.”

Y/N felt her heart race and then lodge in her throat as she cracked open the ring-sized box. Sure enough, nestled inside on a bed of velvet was a beautiful, elegant, gold engagement ring.

Jensen bent to one knee, and she started sobbing, trying desperately to hear him over her own noisy joy.

His bright, green gaze was sure and steady and overflowing with love. She wondered now, how she could ever have doubted it.

“I need you to know,” He began, “that I love you more than anything. That there is nothing,” he emphasized, “nothing more important to me than you. And for the rest of our lives I wanna be with you on all our Christmases and every New Year’s Eve, and Valentine’s Day, Fourth of Julys, hell, Arbor Days even!” he said with a watery chuckle. “It doesn’t matter what I’m celebrating, I wanna be celebrating it with you.”

He slipped the ring on her finger and she cried harder. After a minute he squeezed her hand. “Is there a yes in there, maybe - this snow’s cold on the knee.”

Y/N laughed merrily and threw her arms around his neck. “Yes!” She shouted, and squealed as he stood up, and spun her around in a dizzying circle. 

“Thank god.” He said quietly as he brushed his thumb across her mouth. “Fuck, I missed you, baby. Please say I can kiss you now.”

Y/N's belly clenched and her breathing kicked up a notch as she nodded and breathed against his cool lips. “Yes, god.” She sighed.

He kissed her deeply, sweeping his tongue past her lips and licking up into the roof of her mouth. Many breathless minutes later, Jensen pulled back and wore a contemplative look. “Mmm…you taste like pumpkin pie.”

Y/N smiled. “Oh yeah, I made you a pumpkin pie.” His eyes lit up. “But I ate it.”

Jensen laughed and began kissing and nibbling on her neck. “Well, then I guess I just gotta feast on you.”

He pushed her back through her front door and slammed it shut, kicking off his shoes and pulling off her sweater as he went. By the time he got her to her bedroom, he had them both stripped to nothing. They fell easily onto the bed, clinging to each other and savoring the closeness they’d missed for so long.

Jensen kissed her slowly, skating his lips across her skin, stopping to lick and nip at different peaks and valleys of her body, making her arch into him and card her fingers through his hair. She tugged on it as his soft, smooth beard tickled her skin, before moaning deeply as it scratched against the delicate skin of her inner thighs.

Jensen kept her coming on his tongue for a very long time, till she was shaking and shuddering and begging him to fill her up.

“Jensen, please,” she panted, “I need you so close to me.”

Jensen understood exactly what she meant. Seconds later he pushed into her welcoming heat, home at last, finding the bliss he always found in her arms, and giving it back to her. 

***

Christmas morning dawned bright and sunny and Y/N stretched languidly, rousing Jensen beside her, smiling as he gave out a sleepy moan. She turned to face him and gently traced her finger down the line of his nose and then began counting his cinnamon freckles, connecting them as she went.

Another small moan issued from Jensen’s throat. “S’early.” He mumbled. “Why’re you wake?”

She placed kisses all along his tight, square jaw before she answered. “I was just admiring my gift.”

He cracked one eye and looked at her left hand as it passed over his chest. A small smile lit his face and he ran a finger over her engagement ring. “You like, sweetheart?”

Y/N nodded. “Oh, definitely. The ring is gorgeous.” She moved quickly, climbing on top of him and straddling his hips, surprising a deep groan out of him; she could feel him harden beneath her. “But that’s not the gift I was talking about.”

She braced herself against his shoulders and rolled her hips against him before leaning down and pressing her lips softly to his, her voice teasing and full of love.

“Merry Christmas, Christmas present.”

@lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @impalaslytherin @maggiegirl17 @akshi8278 @candy-coated-misery0731 @deanswaywardgirl @slytherinlyn314 @globetrotter28 @jensensgirl @perpetualabsurdity @tristanrosspada-ackles @djs8891 @muhahaha303 @kayyay1219 @emily-winchester @recoveringpastaaddict @maximumkillshot @mimaria420 @sacriceria @envyaurora95 @lacilou @jc-winchester @spnwoman @mimi-luvzyu @jackles010378 @mayafatimakhan

3 - Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.) @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @alexxavicry @nancymcl @spalady26 @slut-for-evans-stan

4 - Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well) @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @maliburenee @supernatural4life2022 @spn730015 @kickingitwithkirk @waywardbaby @foxyjwls007 @deanwanddamons @deandreamernp @deanwithscissors @myloversgone @snowlovespie @leigh70 @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @charred-angelwings @hopefuldreamers-world @jensensgotyoudean @thoughts-and-funnies @magssteenkamp @princessmisery666 @eevvvaa @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @bernasaurus @jensenslady79 @courtn92 @avanatural @ellie-andthemachine @this-is-me19 @roseblue373 @katbratsupernaturalwhore @fanfic-n-tabulous @k-slla @stoneyggirl2

[ghcstao3]

(part 1)

-

As more days pass, the job doesn’t get any less strange.

Johnny is still poring over Ghost’s hint, trying to figure out how it could be possible that all these varying pieces are from the same artist. Unless it was someone more contemporary, experimenting in art styles of different eras—

Which would make sense, if not for the paints and materials not available in the present day, their methodology in creation having been lost to time, or its dangers realized.

And the signature. Scribbled consistently on every one of the pieces in the exact same place, exact same handwriting, even when the initials of S and R shift from the Roman to Latin alphabet, and when the length of the name itself shrinks and grows.

About every theory that pops into Johnny’s head is easily dismissed for another that makes slightly more sense, until he reaches another road block in reasoning. It’s impossible, plain and simple.

But at the end of the day, Johnny has to shake his head of those sorts of thoughts anyway. Because he’s here for a job, not to speculate, even when it’s his current employer that’s planted this dilemma in his head.

Speaking of—Ghost hasn’t gotten any less weird himself, either. Or, perhaps enigmatic, Johnny should say.

He continues to pose questions to Johnny as he works, but at some point they begin to sound less like questions from the owner of the artwork—and more like questions from the artist, as if seeking feedback.

All Johnny can do is answer honestly. He’s gotten better at deciphering Ghost’s hums and huffs and grunts, but not to the extent of really understanding what he’s thinking. Which only serves to confuse Johnny further about the whole… arrangement.

It’s on the last day, while Johnny is finishing up the last piece, that Ghost asks him the strangest thing of all.

“Say you were… immortal,” Ghost begins slowly, sometime nearing the end of the day; the end of Johnny’s contract, “would you choose to make a mark on the world, or remain invisible?”

Johnny furrows his brow. “I’m not sure. I mean—really, unless you’re big and famous, you kind of remain invisible to most, anyway.”

Ghost shakes his head, seeming almost frustrated by his answer—which would be a first. “No, not like—like if you made art, would you choose to keep it hidden, or would you allow it to be shared?”

It’s the first time Johnny has ever heard Ghost seem unsure of himself. He’s never seen the man falter like this, wavering in this intimidating, indifferent persona he’s thus far created.

Johnny suspects that there’s more to this question than it simply being a hypothetical.

“Depends,” Johnny says. He blinks up at Ghost, staring undeterred into that intense gaze of his. Sometimes Johnny thinks Ghost expects him to be nervous in his employer’s presence. “If it’s something personal, then sure, I’d keep it to myself. But I think in creating art, there’s also times that you’d want to display it, so I would. Not necessarily to leave something behind, but… maybe to inspire someone else.”

Ghost considers this for a long while, eyes raking over Johnny’s face for who knows what. Maybe a discrepancy in his honesty.

Eventually, he breathes slow and deep as he squares back his shoulders. “Then I’ll ask this again:” He pauses. “What do you think happened to the artist?”

The corners of Johnny’s lips twitch upward, though a proper smile never appears.

“I think he’s giving himself away right about now,” Johnny decides. It hasn’t really clicked to him, of course, that Ghost might be immortal—but it’s a conclusion he can at least speak aloud.

Ghost squints his eyes, and Johnny is inclined to think that means there’s a smile hiding beneath his mask.

“Suppose I have,” Ghost admits. Almost sheepishly, he then asks, “Does that change your answer?”

Johnny shakes his head. “I still think these should be displayed, if you’re willing. They’re… they’re beautiful pieces, and… why should you hire me to restore them just to keep them in storage?”

Ghost shrugs, and there reappears that new uncertainty. “I wanted a second opinion.”

Johnny laughs, shaking his head again. “Next you’re going to tell me you destroyed these yourself just to get it.”

Ghost stares at him a long, silent moment after that. Johnny’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline with the very clear answer to that joke.

“…Ghost.”

“It’s Simon,” Ghost corrects. “And I may have… tampered… with them. Just a little.”

Johnny scoffs. “Ghost, Simon, whatever. Some of these materials have been lost to time! And you just… you just—“

A deep, rumbling laugh escapes Ghost—Simon—that has Johnny trailing off from the rant he’d just been ready to go on. Art history is so meaningful to him, and he has a living man who can attest to those times in front of him, and—

And Johnny was just insulting him.

He shrinks back as Simon’s laughing tapers off, and that cold look in his eyes is overtaken by something warm, something friendly.

“Those pieces never meant enough to me,” Simon finally says, something melancholy falling over his tone. “But… I do have one more that was actually ruined by time that I think… I think I’d trust you enough to fix.”

Johnny’s eyes widen, perking up at the suggestion. “Really?”

Simon nods. “I’ll pay you however much, I—“

“No need,” Johnny interrupts. “You’ve already paid me… far more than you needed to, for the rest. I’ll do it, on one condition.”

Simon cocks his head, silently willing Johnny on.

The smile threatening Johnny finally releases, spreading wide across his face.

“You let me ask questions,” Johnny says. “I have a few debates to settle.”

Simon hums. Something… approving.

Finally, he says with an air of humour, and something oddly akin to hope, “I’m sure that can be arranged.”

[perictione00]

Selfish

Ch 6: Games

Pairing: Geto Suguru x reader

Warnings: MDNI, dark content ahead including cannibalism and death, intended incest.

Synopsis: You left the Jujutsu World behind the moment the source of your warmth turned cold. So what happens when you come face to face with that one episode in your life that you wanted to obliterate? Simple, you reap what you sow.

Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Ch 5

For reasons unbeknownst to you, Suguru harbored a desire to conceal your presence and affiliation with his cult. To such an extent that your conspicuous absence from both the school and your family abode gave rise to speculations: either you had followed the path of the raven-haired curse user, or you had withdrawn and isolated yourself from the world to preserve your own existence. People who were acquainted with you opted to embrace the latter. Nevertheless, as time elapsed, doubts arose, contemplating whether you had chosen to end it all. And that was why you had deliberately violated numerous rules set by Suguru, in your order to ensure the well-being of your family, only to discover that they were enduring distress, burdened with self-blame for ever letting you go. The same was the case with Nanami. He regretted not being there for you when you needed him the most. Consequently, his immediate response to your call, abandoning all other commitments, came as no shock.

"Hey...?" Nanami appeared perplexed, tilting his head in recognition.

"Oh...Kento, you actually came!" You exclaimed, rising from your seat, only to be enveloped in a tight embrace.

"I've missed you." Nanami's usual stoicism melted away, surprising you with his emotional display. Memories flooded your mind as you reciprocated, the warmth of the moment reminiscent of simpler times. It brought back the days when things were less complicated, suddenly reminding you of the person you cared for. The realization brought back images of betrayal, causing frustration to set in as the conflicting emotions of anger and reunion played out, bringing tears to your eyes.

"Don't let go." You whispered.

"I won't." He affirmed.

In that moment, Nanami embraced you in a prolonged silence before addressing the unspoken issue.

"Where were you all this time?" He inquired, his gaze skeptical, his hands firmly gripping your shoulders.

Uncertain of how to respond, you grappled with the dilemma—reveal the truth, trusting him to keep it confidential, or fabricate a story to protect yourself?

"I... I fled after Suguru's departure. I was unsure of..." 

"Suguru, huh?" he murmured softly. The slip of your endearing tone told him everything he needed to know. "You were with him, weren't you?"

"Ken-"

"You don't need to lie to me. I don't think I can stand causing you harm anyway. I just want to understand... why?" Nanami questioned, wiping away tears from your cheek.

"I-I killed someone, Kento. It was unintentional...the voices in my head they're terrifying. It's waiting for the right moment, and I don't know what'll happen if it takes over. I'm sorry; I'm so so-sorry. I didn't mean to—I don't know. I really tried. I just-"

"Hey, hey, breathe. I've got you." He uttered while gently stroking your hair.

Geto Suguru was a man with unconventional ideals, and he lived by those every day. He relished in the pains of those unworthy of his eyes. He loved feeding into their delusions, and so he loved playing with his prey. A troubled girl of his age from an influential family with a curse wrapped around her was just another player in his games. The creature slithering around her body radiated envy, unsurprising for someone as spoiled as she was. Daddy's princess, who would get anything within a snap of her fingers or the opening of her legs. And if the repulsive relationship wasn't enough, the girl had the revolting audacity to expect a celebratory welcome from him.

"It's been days since I last saw you. Why didn't you text me?" She asked sensually.

"Oh, my little monkey. I was busy~" He answered in a sing-along voice.

"You don't know how many times I touched myself with just the thought of you. Do you wanna see Daddy? How much I missed you?" Dropping her wet panties to the floor, she moved closer to him.

Geto couldn't stop smirking, almost on the brink of letting go and laughing maniacally. He was excited to give her the gift of a lifetime, so he played along as she kissed him and tried humping on his leg while a certain someone watched the scene unfold through the gap in the door.

"Wait! I've prepared your favorite meal. Now be a sweetheart and have it before it turns  cold." Geto stated pulling away from her.

"But-"

"No buts. You can have me after lunch."

The girl seemed to enjoy the princess treatment as Geto carried her to a table with a single dish covered by a cloche.

"Open it." He ordered.

"A... sausage?" She inquired with bewilderment.

"Give it a try before jumping to conclusions."

The girl moaned unintentionally on the first bite from the 'burst' of flavors, and like a glutten, she kept munching on it.

"Wow! What is this?"

"It's your favorite meat. Been in your mouth many times before." Geto hinted.

"Is this Wagyu beef?" She asked mindlessly.

"You know your father has this itch to pull the most outrageous stunts-"

"Did Daddy plan all of this? Aww...my bubu is the best. You should try this too. Wagyu beef is rare."

"Shut up for once, will you?" Geto sneered as he released a few curses to hold the girl in place.

"Now where was I? Oh yeah, your father. Regardless of how much of a cashcow your family is, I can't fathom the nerve of a weakling to eye what is mine. And do you know what your dearest old daddy did? He did exactly what he wasn't supposed to do. He looked at my love and had the impudence to approach her. Talk about audacity. But I have to give it to him. Even after all these years, it has always been your photo in a high school dress that he jerked off to every night. He was hard too when I..." He stopped halfway, chuckling sinisterly and slowly eyeing the almost empty plate of food.

"No...nooo. No. You've got to be kidding me. You motherfucker. Stop this! Stop it, sto-" Her head blew up as curses began consuming her body. It was always a delicious sight to see the agony of the uncivilized. Now he would finally spend the rest of his day with you peacefully.

You were squeezed into a hug as you crossed the threshold of your house. And before you could stop your actions, you recoiled, instinctively pushing away the person in disgust, only to realize what you had done. 

"Ouch. Are you okay?" Geto inquired with concern.

"Oh-yeah, I'm good. I just got scared." You replied curtly, scared if he had noticed your absence.

"Alright. Now, c'mon, gimme a hug. I've been dying to feel you all day." It almost made you scoff at how shamelessly he was spewing lies when he had his tongue down someone else's throat on the very same day. But you complied with his wishes anyway.

"Where were you, by the way?" He queried, inhaling the fragrance of your hair with an unsettling intensity.

"Right here. I just went out to get some fresh air." You answered, feeling an uncomfortable coldness in the expected warmth of his embrace.

"Hmm...funny that you say that, 'cause I stationed myself at this very gate for the past two hours, anticipating your return. So I'm gonna ask again. Where were you?"

[whatbigotspost]

Sometimes it feels like everyone left leaning on this site are at the extreme polar opposite ends of a spectrum of "compulsory vote blue or die and kill us all, you stupid selfish piece of shit" or "vote for Biden and you're a fucking warmonger who will kill us all, you stupid selfish piece of shit."

I'm so sick of it. It's exhausting.

I can't do justice to this point in a tumblr post. But for now I'll say, as with everything in life, it's all so much fucking more nuanced than this. Both systemically and personally. No 2 people on this site's voting access and circumstances are remotely the same. Y'all really gonna tell me it's the same experience every step of the way to vote in rural Texas as it is downtown NYC? Indianapolis as LA? Denver as Honolulu? Alaska as Alabama? And that’s only speaking to geography which is 1 factor of so many.)

I'm gonna hold my nose and vote for Biden. Again. (Again and again if you count VP.) AND I fucking hate him and his politics. I was raised as close to the "vote blue or die" side of the spectrum as one could be in 1984. My parents were shit, but they did take me to see voting w/ them. I was raised with a hero of a grandmother who reminded me every election cycle that when she was born, her mother wasn't legally able to vote.

I ended up spending 4 years studying poli sci, where my academic mentor and thesis reader was the first Black woman (I'm white) who I'd ever gotten to formally learn from. She was the first person who also ever challenged my idea that "voting is the ultimate way to participate in society" and opened my eyes to the substance of the choice to not participate in politics that way. She was foundational and planted the seed of the thought in my mind, but my continued educational path studying the governmental systems of the US far outside her direct tutelage kept raising the same questions for me. After that educational experience, I basically walked away with a following 17 year (ever growing) mental ethical dilemma and debate on this in my own mind that has just gotten more and more intense because I can personally understand both of those extremes and why they are so passionately felt.

But I just don't agree that we should be spending our time continuously text screaming at another person that the choice you arrived at (for the reasons YOU have) are in any way actually relevant to a stranger.

If you read this and you're at one of those extreme ends, I want you to know: I don't blame you or have a negative judgement against that. But if you think that YOUR REASONS are the same truths present for all other folks on the left side of the stupid ass US political spectrum, you're wrong. You just are.

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Lady - 6

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Eddie Horniman x Female Reader

Summary: After fifteen years away, a step-daughter returns for her Duke step-father's funeral, only to inherit a staggering 8 million pound debt and strike a risky deal with a criminal underworld figure.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Chap 1, Chap 2, Chap 3 , Chap 4 , Chap 5 , Chap 6 , Chap 7.

I'd really appreciate it if anyone who likes this series could leave a comment or reblog with a GIF.

Could you let me know what your thoughts are? Reblogs and comments are the main things that keep me posting new stories. ❤️❤️❤️

You shot a glare at Bucky, who only chuckled in response.

Linking his arm with yours, Bucky suggested, "Let's go meet them together."

Rosie was taken aback when she spotted Bucky.

"I woke up today and still don't see the other half, Princess," Bucky quipped.

Maintaining her composure, Rosie replied, "You're too impatient. My assistant just delivered it to your club."

"Ooh, then I hope you like the service," Bucky retorted with a smirk.

"Impeccable," Rosie replied smoothly, before turning her gaze to you. She tilted her head slightly and added, "I always sensed that you're an adventurous person. I admire your work. I felt comfortable when I found out you're part of this."

You hadn't expected such a compliment from her. While you had met Rosie a few times before, you always felt a sense of superiority from her.

Surrounded by Eddie and Freddie, you never felt out of place. But when Rosie, with her royal blood as a princess, joined the group, the dynamic shifted, and the boys seemed to adopt a more regal demeanor.

Despite your ability to keep up with them, there were times during the summer when you preferred to retreat to Rupert's empty mansion.

You leaned in closer to Rosie and whispered, "Why did you do it?"

Rosie leaned in, her voice barely audible as she replied, "That man doesn't fit to be the future King. It wasn't me who wants him dead. I only lent a hand."

As Rosie spoke, you realized that the relationships within the royal family were even more intricate than you had imagined.

"Some people like your work," Rosie continued. "And I think you will get another client."

Bucky puffed out his chest proudly upon hearing this, nudging your shoulder. "You hear that? Encore."

However, you didn't share Bucky's excitement. While the client may have admired your work, you couldn't find any pride in the situation.

Excusing yourself, you stated, "I need to see my mom and Charlotte."

Once you were at a distance, you pulled out your phone and dialed the family lawyer, Cedric. "Cedric, we need to meet."

#########

Back at the Evergreen Estate.

Cedric informed you, "The debt you have to pay is 3 million." You requested him to find out everything about the debt, unwilling to rely solely on Bucky, as you suspected he wasn't giving you the complete picture.

Lighting a cigar, you took a few puffs in silence as Cedric continued. "The first 4 million already got paid with the building that Bucky used as his club."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "That place used to be Rupert's?" Bucky's mention of Rupert profiting suddenly made sense.

Cedric confirmed with a nod. "With 5 jobs done with Barnes, you have completed 2. That means only 3 are left."

Leaning back in your leather chair, you tapped your fingers thoughtfully. "I don't want to finish the rest. I'll just give him the money. But I also don't want to use the money from savings."

Understanding your dilemma, Cedric pondered briefly before suggesting, "Selling the assets will take a while since the deadline to pay the debts is near. What about selling an artwork?"

His suggestion lightened your burden slightly. Exhaling a cloud of smoke, you inquired, "What artwork does Rupert have?"

Cedric's response was impressive. "One of a kind. One original artworks by DaVinci, Monet, and Van Gogh. One painting is worth more than 1 million pounds."

You nodded in agreement. "Good. Sell those. But will the transaction be quick?"

Confidently, Cedric nodded. "I know some people."

"Then, get all you need. You can have 10% from each artwork," you decided, showing trust in his abilities.

Cedric hesitated, "Your Grace, are you sure you want to let go of the paintings?"

You shrugged, unaffected. "I do explosions for a living, Cedric. I don't have the sentiment to admire a painting."

With a bow of his head, Cedric accepted your decision and left.

As you watched him depart, you felt a weight lift from your shoulders. At least tonight, you could block any calls from Bucky.

##########

For two days, you relished in the tranquility of the countryside, finally having the chance to appreciate the simple joys of life. Breakfast with tea, a luxury you never had time for in your military days, now became a cherished routine as the head of the household.

But your peace was shattered when your mother, Susan, entered with a gloomy expression. “I saw some paintings taken down from the wall. Do you know the reason why, my dear?”

You remained focused on your newspaper, not bothering to look up. “I sold them.”

Susan’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What? Why would you do that? Those masterpieces have adorned this house for years.”

Without lifting your gaze, you replied curtly, “So you’re more concerned about the paintings than paying off our debt?”

A heavy silence filled the room.

Flipping the newspaper page, you continued, “I’m the head of this household now, and I have full rights to do as I please, Mother. I refuse to be burdened by debts while you stand idly by.”

You added, a hint of frustration in your tone, “It’s better to sell the paintings than to risk losing the house, don’t you think?”

Susan gasped, taken aback by your audacity. She turned on her heels and stormed out of the room.

The tension lingered in the air, but you remained resolute in your decision, knowing it was necessary for your family's survival.

While the butler of the house remained stoic, devoid of any emotion like you, he asked, “Do you want a cup of coffee, Your Grace?”

You replied, “Yes, please. That would be great.”

The bitterness of the coffee offered a temporary escape from the turmoil caused by your childish mother.

But it seemed the universe had other plans, denying you the chance to find peace. You heard a familiar voice, the harbinger of your nightmares. “Make it two, please.”

Bucky entered with his usual high energy, greeting, “Good morning.”

Without awaiting your permission, he took a seat beside you. “So, last night someone came to my club and brought a briefcase with 3 million pounds inside. It's to pay off Rupert’s debt.”

You took a sip of the coffee. “Yes, that means our association has ended.”

Bucky's expression softened. “First of all, thank you for settling the debt on time. But it pains me to lose a friend.”

You retorted, “Find another one.”

Bucky sighed. “Don't want to. You're one of a kind.”

You acknowledged his compliment but remained firm. “I appreciate your words, but I have no desire to utilize my expertise in such a manner again.”

Bucky nodded understandingly. “Alright, I understand. But I don't want our friendship to end. And we're also business partners.”

He raised his coffee cup, proposing a toast. “To our new beginning.”

You pushed aside your coffee cup, the porcelain clinking against the saucer, echoing the heavy tension in the room. Every visit from Bucky seemed to herald trouble, and today was no exception. "Every time you come here, you bring bad news."

Bucky shrugged nonchalantly, but there was an underlying tension in his posture, a sense of unease that matched your own. "Not this time," he insisted, but his words did little to assuage the growing apprehension in the air.

"Hmm." Your response was clipped, your mind already racing with dread-filled possibilities.

'Ring.' It was Eddie.

The sudden intrusion of the ringing phone shattered the fragile calm, jolting you and Bucky out of your uneasy silence. You answered, your hand trembling ever so slightly. "Hello?"

"I've got bad news."

The words from Eddie on the other end of the line felt like a confirmation of your worst fears. The room seemed to constrict around you, the air growing heavy with tension.

"What is it?" Your voice wavered slightly, betraying the anxiety that clenched at your chest.

"Charles. He got into a problem with the wrong people."

Your heart sank. The implications of Eddie's words hit you like a physical blow, sending a shiver of fear down your spine.

"How bad is it?" You struggled to maintain composure, but the panic threatened to overwhelm you.

"He's tangled up with a cocaine syndicate."

"Oh no." The words escaped your lips in a hushed whisper, laden with fear and dread.

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Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

[agronzky]

⠀⠀⠀𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐀 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐈𝐍 𝐑𝐏.

⠀⠀⠀Anyone who knows me or has rp with me knows how much I love building ambiguous — or grey, if you prefer — characters or villains. The drama, the chaos, the complex plot… It all makes everything more interesting, especially once you get bored of characters who are exclusively nice, naive and suchlike. Even so, it's a construction that needs to take several factors into account and be very delicately written so it doesn't become a trigger rather than a character.

⠀⠀⠀For this reason, below I've provided some tips on how to create villainous characters for rp, taking into account various traits, setting and also demystifying the fact that not every villain is a soulless monster. Anyway, on to the guide.

Deep and personal motivations.

⠀⠀⠀Convincing villains usually have compelling and understandable motivations, even if their actions are highly questionable. It's the premise of them being right in their quest, but using the wrong means to achieve it and ultimately losing their reason. This brings a sense of humanity and it's even possible to feel connected to what led this person to become a villain. You can truly see how they lost the way.

⠀⠀⠀Another point is the fact that not everyone wants to conquer the world, nor do they have the ambition to have a lot of money or power. Think of plots about revenge, twisted love, the quest for justice or fear. Generally, a character's deepest motivations give them more determination to fulfill their goals because it comes from something much more internal and traumatic. Give them a proper reason and make them lose the way, this is gonna make everything feel real, convincing and interesting to developed.

Moral complexity.

⠀⠀⠀The simple truth is the days of people liking completely cartoonish characters are long gone, and nowadays many people don't like those who are evil simply for the sake of being evil. This is because it's too out of touch with reality. Obviously there are people who are like that in real life, but the vast majority is more complex than this. Humans, in the end, are very complicated and, probably, will never truly understand why we are the way we are.

⠀⠀⠀To get away of this cliché and cartoonish form when creating your character, try to develop moral nuances and internal dilemmas which can explain their actions. Put a small fragment of morality in the character, make them question themselves a few times as to whether they're on the right path… Remember yin yang: there's a little tiny good inside the evil. This tip can be used for any character, when you think about it, but it's very important for those who want to create villains.

Human traits, personality and vulnerabilities.

⠀⠀⠀Like any human being, provide your character with traits unmistakably human, such as fears, insecurities or personal relationships that will impact them, to make them more realistic. Just because someone is doing something morally wrong doesn't mean they've lost all touch with their humanity, especially since not every villain is a psychopath who has no empathy for anyone. It's always very interesting when a character believes they're doing what's right or good for someone else, and this is their motivation. 

⠀⠀⠀Also bring some weaknesses to the character, whether physical, emotional or psychological. This provides room for development and also ways for other characters to access them in a more specific way, either to get to know them better or to retaliate against them at some point.

⠀⠀⠀You know that line "Do you like my personality? I created it especially for you!"? Well, consider how the character behaves and bring in more layers when making the personality. Take into account how they behave in different situations and with different people.

Charisma and a magnetic nature.

⠀⠀⠀The fact is that bad guys aren't unbearable one hundred per cent of the time, they need to know how to live in society and captivate people. So define unique and appealing traits for the character, whether they're genuine or merely a façade. It's always interesting when, within the plot, most people don't know about the evil or wrong side of a character because it gives them more room for development. Maybe make them ashamed of what they're doing and try to hide it as best they can. And just think about real life: do we truly know the people around us?

Connection with other characters.

⠀⠀⠀Nobody lives completely alone since we're in a society and this makes us having connections, for more simple they can be. Thinking about that, create connections with other characters to bring more motivation and drama to your muse, such as an old rivalry, a complicated personal relationship or a surprising connection which generates tension. You can also create connections that actually bring their good side to light, you know? It's also always good to add a certain complexity, to have troubled moments, wounds that haven't healed fully, secrets being revelead, etc.

Questions for creating villains.

What are the character's main motivations?

What is the character's origin story? What led them to become what they are today?

What are the past traumas or events that have shaped their worldview?

How does the character justify their actions morally? Does they believe they are doing the right thing?

What are their weaknesses and vulnerabilities?

How does the character present themselves to the world? Are they masked, manipulative or showy?

What do they want to achieve through their actions?

What are their emotional reactions to obstacles and challenges?

How do they justify their actions to themselves? Is there any sense of internal validation?

How do they relate to the authorities or the law?

How do they see themselves? Do they see themselves as the hero of their own story?

How do they react when their plans fail?

What do they feel when faced with the possibility of redemption or change?

Other small (and important) advice!

Corruption arcs are also super interesting, leading a good character to become bad over time and through traumatic situations. Redemption arcs are also sensational. The point is: nobody was born a villain and nobody has to die a villain.

Leave clues indicating your character before fully revealing your motivations. Also try to leave some motivations completely secret, using them when the plot calls for a surprise. In the best "surprise, bitch!" style.

Think about how environment and culture can influence beliefs and actions.

A villain doesn't have to be a psychopath or murderer. There are arcs of revenge and corruption which can be created without going to such extremes.

It's obvious, but always respect other players and the limits they impose. As I said, a villain isn't always doing evil and being a complete asshole, so make sure you know what kind of approach the other person will prefer.

Always be careful when approaching topics which are triggers and avoid them as much as possible. As I said, it's not necessary to go down this route, but if you do, always keep a firm grounding when writing, because triggers are complex real-life situations that always need to be handled delicately.

The end, for now.

( Be with Morgana, my good girl gone bad ♡ )

[that-ari-blogger]

"Do you want to know a secret?" (The Portal)

I think that the rules of writing are overblown.

Don’t get me wrong, there are things you should and shouldn’t do when telling a story, but those are more guidelines than actual rules.

Case and point, She-Ra is a story predicated on repetition, which shouldn’t be as entertaining as it is. The “bad ending” is effectively another season, which is a unique premise, and a threat that the story absolutely delivers on multiple times.

But, to me at least, the story is enthralling, and keeps me coming back to it. It works, not despite its repetition, but because of it.

Although, that isn’t exactly true. I’ve described the story as cyclical before, but it isn’t entirely. It’s a spiral, because the cycle of abuse is an innately unstable dynamic, and will only end in tragedy if it isn’t broken.

If you don’t want to take my word for this, I give you the season 3 finale, The Portal, which spells out the series’ thesis in about as blunt of a way as is possible.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD: (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, Watchmen, Batman: The Killing Joke, Superman: For The Man Who Has Everything, Justice League Unlimited)

I grew up reading Alan Moore comics, and if you don’t know who that is, I both pity you and envy you. Alan Moore is one of the most misrepresented writers of the modern age, and its entirely his own fault.

Moore is known for writing V For Vendetta, The Killing Joke, and Watchmen, all of which have a distinctly grim tone. He is one of those writers who seems to care more about the story he is telling than how much people enjoy it, and so he usually has a point to make.

Unfortunately, we end up with the Cyber Punk dilemma, in which Alan Moore’s genuinely unrivalled literary talent leads to people really enjoying his stories, which means they unintentionally miss the actual themes of those stories. In the case of Watchmen, this led to people seeing the gore and the violence and the depression and trying to replicate that.

This is where we get The Boys from, shallow sadness and spectacle. If that’s your thing, go for it, but it isn’t mine.

But I bring up Moore in a discussion of She-Ra for a reason, and that is the relentless hope inherent in his writing. In Moore’s stories, hope prevails every single time, with the only exception being extremely subjective. The Killing Joke focuses on the idea that everyone is one bad day away from becoming evil, and that gets proven wrong. Watchmen is about how small humans are and how annihilation changes people, yet the characters are able to find joy and an escape from their trauma, and show kindness to each other even when the sky almost literally falls on their heads.

The Boys isn’t very good as an adaptation of Moore’s themes (In my opinion). If you want one that actually understands the source material, watch The Incredibles, or Justice League Unlimited, or She-Ra and the Princesses of Power.

I have praised She-Ra for its animation and pacing, as well as its overarching story, but I think its greatest strength is its humanity. Characters in She-Ra are incredibly fragile, psychologically, and yet they are incredibly resilient.

Catra and Adora’s development gets methodically and efficiently destroyed by Shadow Weaver, and yet Adora becomes a hero and Catra… well, we’ll see how that works out in later seasons.

One of my favourite Moore stories is a superman story from 1985 called For The Man Who Has Everything. This was adapted into an episode of Justice League Unlimited, but I prefer the comic.

The story follows Superman being forced to live out his greatest desire. It doesn’t sound that bad, but the point is that he is kept happy and therefore out of the picture while villains can do villain things. It’s very much a story from its time, and I love it.

Interestingly, however, Superman’s dream takes him back to Krypton, where he isn’t Superman, and he is happy. He has a wife, and a son, and he never lost anything. He can spend time with his parents.

Even with the shenanigans that ensue (because this is a comic), his time in this dream is fun, and relaxing. Until he works out he’s dreaming, and has to let it go. Superman gets the choice of happiness, or duty, and he takes duty.

The scene in which he says goodbye to his “son”, who does not exist and therefore does not matter, is heartbreaking, and if I ever do comic reviews, I’m talking about this one first.

I now turn your gaze to queen Angella, from whose perspective this story is being told.

The episode actually does a bit of a bait and switch with the point of view, convincing its audience that it is about either Glimmer or Bow, and it kind of is, but not entirely.

Angella has everything she could possibly want, her daughter, her husband, her city. There is no war, there is nothing. Everything is perfect.

“This is perfect, my love, but it’s not real. I remember now. I miss you so much, but Glimmer needs my help, and I can’t stay with nothing but memories. Goodbye Micah”

Does this ring any bells?

I want to point out that this is still Catra’s hallucination, the thing that she wants. So why does she want Angella and Glimmer to be happy?

Catra wants Adora, and arguably loves her, but in an extremely dysfunctional way that says "if I can't have her, nobody can". She is petty, and fully the villain in this episode.

So, the way that she gets Adora to be hers is by ensuring that the people who accepted her would have no space for her in their lives. Why would Glimmer want to spend time with Adora? She has her father. Why would Angella accept Adora? She has her family.

What Catra doesn’t understand is that love isn’t transactional, and that these people are genuinely kind and accepting.

There's the idea of "what you are in the dark." The concept of what a person does when there are no consequences. Characters in this episode keep getting moments like this, when they know that they are fading from existence, and are given moments to show their true colours. Entrapta chooses to be grateful, Bow chooses to be reassuring, and Glimmer chooses to be emotional.

The thing that breaks people out of Catra’s reality is the unexpected. Its Catra’s lack of understanding of people that leads to those people being themselves and instinctively breaking free.

Case and point, Angella and Glimmer help Adora, and because this world was completely unprepared for that minour act of kindness, it can’t keep them contained.

Now, I know what scene you are expecting me to talk about, so I’m going to make you wait, and talk about Catra instead.

Catra is the villain of this episode. If it wasn’t for this being set in her mind, she would have zero nuance. By which I mean, everything about her as a character here is done externally, the way she acts makes her seem like a generic, abusive partner.

Because let me be clear about Catra’s actions here. This is abuse, and it is treated as such by the story. The show doesn’t make apologies for her in this episode, or try to justify it here. Subtlety be damned here, Catra is abusive.

And so, I will read her this way, for this episode. We have seen the nuance leading up to this moment, and we will see a redemption arc. But this is Catra at her lowest, and so I will put aside the past and future to examine the present and the present only. Catra is abusive.

There are two ways you could read this drop in subtlety. One, there are parts of this character that you aren’t seeing, left blank. This episode is presenting you with a character and not showing you the whole thing. Or two, this is a character who has been broken by the story, almost as if parts of her have been removed or lost. Catra is now a fragment of her former self.

I wonder if any of this is reflected in her character design.

“If you hadn’t gotten captured, your sword wouldn’t have opened the portal. If you hadn’t gotten the sword and been the world’s worst She-Ra, none of this would have happened. Admit it Adora, the world would still be standing if you had never come through that portal in the first place.”

This hurts Adora because it’s true. Ok that’s unfair, and inaccurate, but it’s not entirely wrong, and that’s the kicker.

Catra isn’t making this up, she’s just leaving out important details. Because of course, if Adora hadn’t been captured, things would have worked out better, but who was it that captured her? Who was it that made the choice to pull the switch? Who was it that destroyed the world out of spite?

Catra blames Adora for her own actions, and that is, once again, abuse. Which is why it’s so satisfying when Adora stands up for herself.

“I didn’t make you pull the switch. I didn’t make you do anything. I didn’t break the world. But I am gonna fix it.”

Hope is relentless.

But I also want to point out the claiming of agency here. Catra was weirdly insightful at the start of her monologue.

“It's always the same with you, Adora. ‘I have to do this. Oh, we have to do that.’”

Adora’s word choice is a flaw. I looked back at the past few seasons and did a word search through the scripts. I don’t think Adora uses the word “want” more than once at all up to this point.

Essentially, Catra sees things, but extrapolates exactly the wrong message from it. It’s almost as if she’s only seeing half of the world, like her vision is impaired or incomplete somehow.

I wonder if that is reflected in her character design.

In any case, Adora frequently says that she “has to” do things. “Need” is also something she says a lot, and this has the effect of making her an extremely passive character in her own story.

Like I said, this is a moment of agency, but the entire story is a story about that agency. The characters are making choices to either get out of or go along with the downward spiral that the tragic form has set out for them. Catra made the choice to follow, but Adora didn’t. Adora’s word choice makes her look like she has made no choice, but a lack of action is still a decision.

So here, when Adora declares she is “gonna fix it", she takes her agency and decides to walk in a different direction.

This reminds me of an earlier episode, that being Promise.

Hey, look at that action. Looks familiar, right?

This is the only episode I found where Adora says she wants something, although her actual wording is “I never wanted to leave you” when talking to Catra. Go figure.

The moment in question was the episode’s namesake.

“It doesn't matter what they do to us, you know? You look out for me, and I look out for you. Nothing really bad can happen as long as we have each other.” “You promise?” “I promise.”

Agency. Adora is making a decision to stay with Catra and protect her. She is knowingly choosing to do something.

It’s telling that the two most prominent times Adora has done this have been to protect people. It’s almost as if she wants to be useful, or helpful, or protective. Almost as if she wants to be wanted. It would seem Adora is just as addicted to the highs of Shadow Weaver’s programming as Catra, she just has a better support group.

Although this isn’t a full victory, she doesn’t want to save the world, she is just going to, – we still don’t know what Adora wants – this is a partial success. Hold onto that idea, it will come back later.

“Do you want to know a secret? I am a coward. I've always been the queen who stays behind. Micah was the brave one. And then Glimmer, oh, Glimmer. So much like her father. And once again I stayed behind, letting her make the hard choices, letting her be brave for me. I told myself I was being responsible, but, Adora, I was just scared. And then I met you. You inspired us. You inspired me. Not because it was your destiny, but because you never let fear stop you. And now I choose to be brave.”

Queen Angella is voiced by Reshma Shetty. She doesn’t get much praise, but for this monologue, I think she deserves so much more than she got.

In my fourth post about She-Ra, I discussed Adora’s ability to inspire and linked her to Batman, something I stand by to this day.

In universe, She-Ra isn’t important because she’s a warrior. She exists as a leader, to protect people and pull them into a greater tomorrow. She shines a light for others to follow.

That is what happens in The Portal, Adora succeeds not by fighting the enemy, but by being herself. She only becomes She-Ra to destroy the portal at the end. To save Etheria, the giant sword lady isn’t important.

I mentioned earlier that humans are fragile and resilient at the same time, and I give you Angella as evidence for that claim. Here is someone who has lost her husband, and makes decisions based on that fear and trauma. But when push comes to shove, the fear is secondary.

Reality falling apart lets directors get away with true nonsense. Micah's staff has no reason to be here, other than the fact that it makes a phenomenal metaphor for Angella's trauma. But that's all you need.

Jon Pertwee was the third doctor, and while he isn’t nearly as iconic or influential as some of his predecessors and successors, he did deliver the line that defined the whole series.

“Courage isn't just a matter of not being frightened, you know. It's being afraid and doing what you have to do anyway.”

I started my discussion of this season by claiming that this is the season in which the characters put a dent the tragic cycle, and I have mentioned several times that the cycle of abuse is unstable. So, here is my thesis.

Catra’s arc fails, not in a story sense, but in a personal one. The idea that every character has a single story arc is something is a specific bugbear of mine, and Catra is kind of my case and point for that. She has a redemption arc up to this point, and she ends up as a villain. Then the story continues and she has to start again and decide where to go next. She has no choice but to move in a different direction from here.

But she tasted redemption already. The crimson wastes gave her a taste of what she is missing, and it offered her an out. It gave her a choice, she made one, and consequences were served. I can’t help but imagine that for the entirety of the next season, she is considering running off to the wastes again.

That idea of consequences comes back with Adora, who makes a good decision, and is rewarded for it. Or rather, she makes a decision to actually do something. Adora becomes an active character, and that is what starts to break the cycle. Because now the motion is halted, and the puppets are pulling the strings.

But, this isn’t a complete victory. Angella is lost, Entrapta and Micah are still gone, none of the villains actually get defeated. For an episode with lasting consequences, not much actually happened.

This episode is big on the fact that this is all a dream, which should destroy the engagement. But it doesn’t. In reality, it preserves the status quo physically, but lets all the characters spontaneously experience character development. The victory of this season is that growth, but it came at a cost.

I want to briefly talk about that final shot, before I go, because this is how you introduce a villain. Sure, the voice acting is impeccable, and the cinematography gives an air of mystery and menace to this threat, but the showstopper is the reveal that this villain can destroy a moon with ease.

You see a fleet of ships, there was no battle here, just a villain showing off for nobody but himself. He gets interrupted by the plot, and he’s busy DESTROYING A MOON.

Horde Prime is f***ing terrifying.

This scene is in this episode too. It's meant to show how reality is falling apart, but I actually have a reading of why it's here. I think Catra wanted to preserve who Adora was, hence why she is the source of all the paradoxes. But Catra doesn't understand that Mara's legacy and Razz's teaching are a big part of Adora.

Final Thoughts

I’m going to talk about the implications for later seasons for a moment here, so if you’re avoiding spoilers, now you know.

I think Catra being the villain here makes her redemption so much more compelling, because she actually needs it. There is a difference between this and, for example, Hunter from The Owl House, who doesn’t really need redemption because he hasn’t done anything wrong.

Catra here has very much done wrong and is evil as defined by the show. But the show’s message is that anyone can change, and that the cycle of abuse isn’t set in stone.

So, Catra will redeem herself, and she will struggle, and fall back, and try again. Forgive her or not, the redemption is the effort to be better.

Next week (or whenever the next post is released, I have a terrible work schedule), I will be discussing The Coronation, so stick around if that interests you.

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