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httpsserene · 5 months

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hey can I request something that’s angsty to fluff and then smut for Oscar where reader gets a ton of hate for dating Oscar so she kind of ghosts him for a bit and they figure things out

𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐰/𝐨𝐩𝟖𝟏

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: oscar really just wants to hear you laugh again. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. angst. fluff. happy ending. reader is exhausted physically and mentally. reader's internal monologue is not not nice. bad eating habits. bad sleeping habit. self-deprecation. don't worry she's back on her bs at the end. reader neglects herself (?) and her relationship. implied self-sabotage. people are mean. don't worry oscar is meaner. oscar piastri is a good boyfriend. emotional hurt/comfort. tenderness. intimacy. baths and pampering. crying (non-sexy). implied sex. implied bath sex. logan and lando as plot devices. no beta we die like my will to live during finals. 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5.1k words. 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: oscar piastri x fem!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot w/ blurbs. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: best i ever had • drake

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: sorry it took me so long, i've changed this fic like multiple times :/ hope it fulfills you request properly :))) this is not my favorite thing in the world, i feel like if i went on a smaller scale i would've enjoyed this more but what can you do. this is also not very black reader coded? idk but feel like it's lacking there. i also apologize for my inability to write an oscar fic without including lando, he's such a willing plot device though even if he's a little ooc. i also couldn't find the mental space to write smut but there's smth for you at the end. dedicated to us women in stem! i hope you have fun reading this because i didn't have fun writing it :)

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oscar is worried. you haven’t responded to his texts for a week, he hasn’t seen your face for two weeks, and he hasn’t heard your voice for three weeks. four weeks ago, you told him you wouldn’t be able to fly out to see him at the austin grand prix, like you promised. you sounded exhausted and incredibly guilty when you explained that your course load this semester is extreme, and finals are rapidly approaching. oscar understood; he won’t ask you to sacrifice your education for one of his races, there will be plenty you can come to in the future. what he doesn’t understand is how you’re still functioning. it’s your senior year of university at an american ivy league school, you're pursuing an engineering degree, and you’re also working nearly five days a week as a barista. oscar thinks the last time he’s seen you relaxed is before your fall semester started, you spent your entire summer break with him, making appearances at the only three races you’ve been to this season (silverstone, hungary, and spa). the last time he recalls seeing your smile and hearing your laugh is in august—it’s the end of october now.

you’ve been ghosting him. oscar wants to believe that it’s unintentional, that it’s just a side effect of the amount of work and pressure on your shoulders—but he can’t accept that. if you were unintentionally missing his calls, facetimes, and texts, you’d spam respond to all of them with a voice message or paragraphs of texts before you went to bed or class. you would send him daily or weekly recap videos of how life is treating you, like you used to do. you would send him stupid videos of you messing around on your shifts during a pause of customers. you would send him thirty reels a day on instagram of brain dead shenanigans with little captions of how you reacted, or if you thought it would make him smile. you would send him fit checks every morning before you went to class, even though your outfit consists of a hoodie and sweatpants. you would send him tiktok edits of himself and tell him that he needs to stop being ‘so hot’ because you almost barked in the middle of class. you would ask him how he’s doing, you would respond to his texts the minute you could even if it's hours late, you would leave him voicemails if he doesn’t pick up, you would make an attempt to communicate.

except, you haven’t. so, he knows that you ignoring him is intentional, and that your lifestyle right now makes it easier for you to disguise your avoidance of him as accidental.

you didn’t say ‘i love you’ back.

“mate, what are you frowning for?” oscar jumps, eyes flying up from the phone screen and meeting lando’s. the brit is staring at him in confusion, the two of them are still in their race suits, tied around their waists. the sprint race ended an hour ago, and they’ve just finished celebrating oscar’s win.

“you’ve won a race, oscar—what could possibly make you sad after that?” lando says teasingly. but, the smile on his face is quick to fade as he must see oscar’s dejected mood.

the australian debates his next move for a moment, before deciding that telling lando isn’t a bad idea; they’ve been getting closer—they’re friends, oscar would say. he sighs, and hands his phone to lando, maybe he’ll tell oscar he’s worrying over nothing.

“oh,” lando says, eyes widening, “i’m sorry, mate.”

oscar brushes off lando’s words, and buries his face in his hands, “she’s pulling away from me. that was five days ago, and she hasn’t answered any of my calls. she’s only responded to my texts since then with one word answers or very dryly. she’s ghosting me.”

oscar feels lando fumbling for words, not needing to look at him to know that the older man has no idea how to go about reassuring oscar.

“look, mate, if it were me i’d go see her anyways.”

oscar huffs, “she literally said she doesn’t have time.”

“oscar,” lando stares at him in disbelief, “she hasn’t seen you in two months. i guarantee she’s probably dying to see you again, fuck whatever time she doesn’t have. she also can’t ghost you, if you see her face to face. you should go and try to fix whatever’s wrong, before you let her slip away.”

“maybe…maybe she’s just burnt out,” oscar suggests shakily, “i’ll go see her after the triple header–i’m probably just overreacting about this. she’ll be back to her usual self in time.”

oscar is enraged. he’s pissed off at his fans for attacking you in a sick twist of ‘defending him,’ ‘protecting him’ and the supposed ‘ownership’ they think they have over him. he’s pissed off at you deciding to ghost him instead of confiding in him about the hate you receive. he’s pissed off that his flight to you has been delayed for four hours. he’s pissed off at his race in brazil, if you can even call what happened a race. he’s pissed off at the fact that you can’t make time to see him before vegas. he’s pissed off that you lied to him about picking up extra shifts at the cafe.

he stalked through your instagram the minute after he was allowed to escape debrief, hunting down your roomates accounts from where you’ve tagged them in an older post. he innocently made a group message to the two girls, figuring it would be kind and proper to inform them of his impending arrival to surprise you. and the two girls you shared an apartment with responded eagerly to his message telling him that you’ve been extremely stressed and almost depressed this semester, and that hopefully his appearance will break through to you in a way they are unable to. oscar asked them if they knew your work schedule for the week, since you never told him when you're working–and learned that you lied. you didn’t accept any extra shifts, matter of fact, you got all of your shifts covered for the next two weeks. apparently, all you have been doing is going to class, working, studying furiously, and crying. when he asks if there’s any reason besides the stress from work and school that has you crying, the girls decline to speak for you, and strongly suggest that he asks you himself when he arrives.

oscar’s no longer pissed at you for lying to him or for ghosting him–he’s hurt, but, he already understands your motive. you don’t want to worry him, so you bottle it up and distance yourself to not make him aware of how you're struggling. he won’t let you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders alone anymore, he’s going to see you and he’s going to take care of you, and then he’ll sort out the ignorant people on the internet.

when he’s at your apartment, you’ll be coming home from your last shift before your time off. and then, once he has you in his arms, he can make everything right again.

your hands are shaking; a result from the mix of stress and exhaustion that has been plaguing you for a few weeks. it takes you four and a half attempts to unlock the front door to your apartment—this is an improvement, yesterday it took you six times. a trembling sigh of relief exits your lungs as you shut the front door, triple checking that you lock the door properly. you remove all of your outerwear and slip out of your shoes, half-heartedly making an attempt to neatly place them in the organizer you have by the door. (you fail to register how there’s only two pairs of shoes stored away; yours and a pair of shoes that look too big to be one of the girls you live with—the usual sneakers the girls wear are nowhere to be seen.) you grunt as you tenderly put on your backpack and slowly make your way into the kitchen, off-handedly murmuring a “hi,” in the direction of the living room since you can hear the tv playing, but you don’t even spare a glance to see which roommate it is—you can’t stomach anymore human interaction today.

your walk is more of a waddle; your legs and feet are sore from working nine-hour shifts five days in a row, and also from going to class four out of those five days. you place your backpack on the small island, and continue to gently meander towards the fridge. your stomach aches at the thought of food—which is unfortunate, considering you’ve only had one meal today. regardless, you will shove a sandwich down your throat, you need the energy if you’re going to study for three hours before you go to bed.

you pause before you open the fridge, a note is stuck on the door with a magnet. your roommates are gone; the two girls have spontaneously decided to go spend the weekend with their boyfriends—you’re not going to complain, you have the apartment to yourself. a brief wave of loneliness washes over you, you were kind of looking forward to venting about the week you had to the girls in the morning, and also, couldn’t they have texted you this earlier today? who leaves old-fashioned notes on the fridge anymore? you pull out your phone to send a text in your group chat wishing them a nice weekend, and see that they did, in fact, text you that they would be gone—three days ago. and, you never responded, because you never saw it. you shrug, and send the text anyways, you’ve been incredibly busy and you’re bound to miss a few texts (especially the eighteen texts from oscar that remain unopened).

you're just going through a little bit of a slump, and you’ve had a bad day. you accidentally messed up three orders today (out of the hundred you fulfilled, so three isn’t really terrible), your running off of four hours of sleep (you’re more energized when you sleep less, anyways), and a customer accidentally bumped into you as you were walking to bring coffee to a table, causing the hot liquid to spill and burn a little spot on the back of your hand by your thumb. well, you know it wasn’t purely accidental, as the girl giggled to the group of friends she was with after she “bumped” into you. based on the way she was wearing a mclaren hoodie, you can make several guesses as to why she did it—you’re kind of shocked that she noticed you even though you wear a mask at work (you have for about a month, too many fans have noticed who you are), her hate for a relationship that’s not hers should be studied for science.

incidents like these have made your coworkers start to…dislike you. the decrease in tips when you’re assigned to the register causes you to be forced to be hidden behind coffee machines the entire shift, only making drinks the entire nine hours you’re there. it’s better for you though, at least you can have a physical barrier blocking the prying eyes you feel are judging you the entire time. if anything, the recent atmosphere at work made you want to put in your two weeks—but, you have bills to pay. you’re just glad you managed to find a way to get two weeks off so you can focus on school and prepare for your exams—you can’t afford to fail, it’ll cost your scholarship and then you’ll need more than the job you have right now to finish school.

the buzzing of your phone pulls you back to the present—oscar’s calling. you squeeze your eyes shut for a few seconds, before you blink and silence the ringer. if you speak to him, you won’t be able to hide your troubles from him any longer; he reads you as easily as a kid’s picture book. he definitely doesn’t need to deal with your problems after whatever the hell happened in brazil. the noise of your phone startled you into a new thought, however. if the girls aren’t in the apartment, why the fuck is the tv on? who did you greet when you walked past the main room without a glance?

“i was calling to tell you that i’ve got takeout from the asian restaurant you like, if you’re looking for something to eat,” oscar says gently.

it’s a testament to how extremely exhausted you are: you don’t scream, you don’t fight, you don’t run—you just flinch slightly, and turn around slowly to face your boyfriend…the man you’ve been avoiding for nearly a month. at the sight of him (his fluffy hair, his soft sweater, the confused and concerned glint in his eyes) your lip starts quivering, and your eyes start watering. oscar’s gaze softens into something sweet yet empathic, and he says, “i know it’s been a while since we’ve last talked, but i didn’t think you’d cry at the sight of me.”

you burst into tears with a sob, and in a second oscar’s got you wrapped up in his arms, one hand soothingly massaging your back, while the other cradles your head on his shoulder. your borderline hyperventilating, your tears have started to soak his sweater, and you’re sniffling every two seconds to avoid getting snot on him too. oscar doesn’t try to quiet your tears, he doesn’t ask about what’s making you cry, he doesn’t even try to tell you that everything will be fine—he just holds you as you cry it out and presses kisses into your hair. eventually, the flow of tears dries and you focus on pulling in shaky breaths of air to calm down. oscar switches to holding you to his chest with one arm while he uses the free one to reach across the counter and grab a tissue. wordlessly, he wipes the wetness off your cheeks and under-eyes, he even uses another tissue to wipe your nose, clearing away the snot that managed to escape. you almost start crying again at the tender treatment and the matching look in his eyes, but you muster enough strength to keep the happy tears from falling over the waterline.

oscar nods once, deeming his cleanup complete, and clears his throat, “i’m going to heat up the food. then, we’ll eat and you’ll tell me what’s wrong and if that has anything to do with why you’re ignoring me.”

there’s no attempt from you to keep the façade up any longer, all you do is nod and step to the side so he can grab the food from the fridge.

oscar has already cleared his plate and you’re still picking through half of yours. the two of you are sitting on opposite ends of the couch, teen wolf is playing on a low volume, and your eyes are tunneled on the screen even though oscar can see that you’re not paying attention at all. one of the characters is screaming about having to get his arm cut off (stiles, probably) and suddenly you start talking to oscar.

“it’s been a shit semester. if i wasn’t graduating in spring, i honestly think i would’ve dropped out or taken a gap-year. and, i knew what i signed up for as an engineering major, and i knew that working was only going to add more on my plate—but, it’s not like i can quit my job, i have bills to pay. so, juggling school and work is difficult, and i was managing fine. but, i guess i made the mistake of scrolling through twitter—which is truly my fault i think—and everyone on the internet was calling me a ‘terrible girlfriend’,” oscar watches you scoff out a choked laugh, “and, i obviously didn’t believe i was. in the beginning, at least. i mean, it’s like they expected me to be at every race by your side, like i’m not working my way through a hellscape of a degree. i watched every practice session, qualifying, and race—they’re literally the only hours i don’t spend studying or working. i brag about you to everybody who would listen, i missed hours of sleep just to speak to you on the phone for five minutes, i work as hard as i can so i can finish this degree early so i can be with you as early as possible, and they say that you deserve a better girlfriend.”

you pause and rub at your eyes furiously, mouth opening and closing as you take time to find the words to continue. oscar quiets the flare of anger at your distress, and stays silent, not wanting to interrupt your speech, this is the most you’ve said to him in a month.

“the thing is: i-i i let their words get to me. i think it’s because i was being kicked while i was down—or whatever the phrase is. i was already mentally exhausted, and i already believe that i’m not doing my best this year, i’m disappointing everybody who knows me, i’m a shit student—and just seeing everybody agree, even though they’re just randoms on the internet, tore me down. i even deleted all of the apps off my phone,” your voice has shifted into something desperate, “so i couldn’t see what they were saying about me anymore, but it’s like once i saw it, it never left my mind. i feel like everybody is staring at me with condescending eyes, like they all think i’m terrible. and, logically, i know that’s probably not true. but, this semester has pushed me past the point of being able to rationalize properly. so as a result, i have become a ‘terrible girlfriend’ to you; like a twisted self-fulfilling prophecy.

“i avoid your calls, i leave you on delivered for days, i respond with one word, i lie to my friends and say i was up all night talking to you on the phone when i was really crying and studying at the same time, i hold back from bursting into tears in the middle of my shifts when one of your ‘fangirls’ spills their drink over me for the third time. and while doing all of this, i was hoping you’d do the hard part and just break up with me,” your voice rings out sharply and you refuse to look at your boyfriend, afraid to see the look on his face.

“because…” you whimper slightly, tongue flicking out to lick at your lips anxiously, “you do deserve a better girlfriend.”

oscar is lost for words at your conclusion; seeing you, one of the strongest women he knows break down, is a sight he never imagined. a sense of guilt builds within him, knowing that he’s added to the deprecating thoughts in your brain by postponing this intervention for weeks. you may think that he deserves someone better, but he hasn’t been the best to you either recently. if oscar was half the man you think he is, he would’ve never allowed you to avoid him in the first place. oscar stands up, collects your plate and his, and places them on the coffee table. he turns and drops to his knees in front of you, resting his hands on your thighs, and squeezes them gently to grab your attention. it takes a minute, but eventually you allow your eyes to fall to meet his, and oscar breaks further at the lack of light in your eyes.

“i think,” oscar starts quietly, “that you expect me to break up with you and leave—am i guessing correctly?”

you blink down at him and shrug, biting your lip to prevent it from quivering.

“i also think, that if i flew all this way to see you, and that if i listened to your heartbreaking recollection of how this semester and how the world has been incredibly unkind to you, and that if i sat here and still broke up you—it’s not me that deserves a better girlfriend; it’s you that deserves a better boyfriend.”

stunned, you stumble over your disagreement, but oscar steadfastly continues.

“you did the right thing by deleting your socials—and that would explain why all three hundred of the reels i’ve sent you have gone unseen,” he laughs lightly, “and even if their words took root, you prevented yourself from being able to see more of it every time you used your phone; so even if my pride is not needed, i am proud of you for doing that. i’m even more proud that you sat here and told me that you aren’t doing well, that you didn’t make an attempt to lie, and that i didn’t have to force you to tell me,” oscar says seriously, holding steady eye contact with you to make sure you're hearing him.

“i wish that you would have mentioned the hate you’re receiving as soon as it started, and that you would have told me your mental health was suffering too. you know i do everything in my power to avoid reading anything with my name in it unless it’s a credible article—so imagine my surprise, when i learned about what people were saying about you through a twitter thread logan, of all people texted me about,” you snort out a laugh at the feigned disdain in oscar’s voice when he mentions the american driver.

“you know i have no issues embarrassing people on the internet for their incorrect claims—and i’d especially tear them to shreds for trying to drag you down. we’ve been together too long for you not to come to me about things like this, even if it’s something that mildly upsets you—i want to know, because then i can make it better, or i can at least try to. you haven’t complained to me about the grueling lifestyle once, as i worked my way up to f1; if anybody could be perfect, it would be you. so, let me try to be as perfect as you, and support you properly and thoroughly as you finish up this degree, baby.

“we’re soulmates, aren’t we?” it’s a question, but oscar states it like a fact, “and i know i can’t magically make the self-loathing disappear with one conversation, but i'll tell you that you’re the best girlfriend i’ve ever had countless times, until you believe me unquestionably.”

oscar watches your nose scrunch cutely as you sniffle, unable to stop the tears that leak from the corners of your eyes. sweetly, he catches them with his thumb before they fall. he stands up and tugs you to your feet, pulling you into a tight, warm hug.

“i love you, kanga,” oscar coos as he kisses your forehead.

“i love you the most, roo,” you answer back, leaning up to press a kiss to the corner of his lips.

“i’ve bought some lavender epsom salt and an embarrassing amount of bath bombs. will you let me take care of you tonight?” oscar asks quietly.

he sees the mix of awed-disbelief and confusion as you stare up at him, like you can’t imagine why he’d want to love you tenderly tonight, and that hurts him more—the words of his ‘fans’ online have done enough damage to cause you to doubt him. maybe he can convince you to come to vegas with him so he can keep you close, but first, he needs to focus on caring for you here and now.

oscar grabs his duffle bag and smiles as you hold his hand to lead him to your room and the attached bathroom (rent is ridiculously expensive, but at least you don’t have to share a bathroom with your roommates.) oscar sends you to grab pajamas while he starts filling the tub, epsom salt already poured in. he fiddles with the temperature for a while before it’s set to the boiling-your-skin-off hot you enjoy. by the time you join him in the bathroom, he’s added the salts and soap in the water and has placed the bath bombs out for you to choose one. oscar can’t help the small smile that rises to his face at the sight of the serious furrow of your brow as you pick out your favorite from the bunch.

oscar hums as you hand him the jade-infused bath bomb, and asks, “can i wash your hair too? or will it mess up your schedule?”

“i actually really need to wash it,” you murmur with a humorless chuckle, “i’ve been so busy that i haven’t been taking care of my hair properly.”

oscar blinks and continues non-judgmentally, “i’ll give you an extra scalp massage to make up for that—you can start getting undressed now, the water’s nearly ready.”

he turns around awkwardly, he’s seen you naked before but he feels like it would be slightly perverse to watch you while you’re clearly in a more sensitive state tonight. he fumbles with the faucet for a few seconds before turning it off, and drops the bath bomb into the water so it can start dispersing. oscar faces you again carefully making sure he avoids staring at your body and locks eyes with you, he beckons you forward with an outstretched hand and holds your hand as you submerge yourself in the water. once you’re settled comfortably, oscar grabs your hair products (he holds up any bottle he thinks you may not want to use tonight, and you give him a thumbs up or down to decide), and then kneels at your side.

he starts to roll up the sleeves of the hoodie but your hand halts his motions, the water splashing loudly at the quickness of your movement, “you’re not getting in with me?”

“uh,” oscar stutters, “i-i wasn’t planning on it. i just wanted to give you a nice bath.”

oscar pinkens as you stare at him wordlessly and when your unimpressed gaze shifts to a slight glare, he finds himself shedding his clothes and sinking in behind you at an impressive speed.

his heart began to race as the two of you shifted into as comfortable of a position you could achieve in a too-small tub, but calmed at your pleased hum as you settled between his legs with your back resting on his chest. this may be the most romantic experience oscar has ever indulged in. sure, it’s not a candlelit dinner at an obnoxiously expensive restaurant but, it’s him detangling your hair, it’s him massaging shampoo into your crown, it’s him scratching softly along your scalp as the deep conditioner sits, it’s you playing with the water innocently, it’s you whispering every detail of your life that he’s missed out on, it’s you gently directing him through braiding your hair, and it’s him pressing kisses to your shoulder when he finishes. there isn’t a single moment where the two of you become unsettled during lapses of silence; the intimacy of his actions is loud enough to fill the gaps. oscar can’t imagine ever being this comfortable with anybody besides you, he hates that he almost allowed you to pull completely away from him. moments like these, where you allow yourself to be thoughtlessly vulnerable with him, are exactly why he’s completely enamored with you.

your body has loosened against him, muscles syrupy and lax from the effects of a toe-curling scalp massage, and oscar gently guides you to sit upright while steadying most of your weight with a single hand splayed against your abdomen. the sound of the cap of your body wash clicking open startles you into the present, and you shift around to straddle his lap. it’s amusing; he inaudibly chuckles at the sight of you struggling to complete your change of position without sending water over the edge. you make a triumphant noise when you’ve managed to turn around to face him, and oscar’s hands cradle your hips when you rest on his lap.

“can i–”

“shouldn’t you–”

oscar bursts into laughter and you into giggles, at the interruption of each other's sentences. it’s definitely not that funny, but oscar’s heart skips a beat at the sound of your laugh–he hasn’t heard that sweet noise in what feels like forever. he motions for you to speak, ever the gentleman, and eagerly awaits for our question with a smile still stretched across his lips.

“shouldn’t you fuck me before we wash up? so we don’t have to clean up twice?”

oscar chokes on his breath, his grip on you tightening in surprise, and he babbles, “what? no-i mean, yes, i mean—wait. i didn’t do all of this just to have sex with you, you know that right? i genuinely just wanted to pamper you–”

“oscar,” you cut him off, intentionally this time around, “after the semester i’ve had, and the less than kind words i’ve heard and thoughts i’ve had describing myself–i really do appreciate the bath, i feel reminded that you love me. however, i really think that having sex would help…solidify your devotion for me.”

oscar blinks up at you, he wasn’t quite expecting you to return to your normal sassy behavior as quickly as you did. but, he is thankful that you’ve opened up to him with no further hesitation–it’s actually incredibly attractive of you, how you’ve resumed complete comfortability in expressing exactly what you want to him. at least, that’s the excuse he’s telling himself to cope with being half-hard already.

“...at least let me take you to bed, then?”

“no,” you whine down at him, your hips sneakily twitching forward, oscar moans lightly at the light grind, “too far! saves time later if we don’t have to come back to shower.”

“you’re right,” oscar hums distractedly, moving his right hand off your waist to slip between your thighs and brush along your cunt, “i’ll fuck you here as long as you let me do all of the work.”

oscar’s blood heats at the sound of your whimpering moan and he takes his other hand off your waist to grab at your chin and he pulls you down for a kiss.

oscar groans when you pause before your lips touch his, and he feels the breath of your giggle ghost over his mouth, “mmm, i’ll never say no to that—and, didn’t i agree to let you take care of me tonight?”

taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorarri @inloveallthetime @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz

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prettieinpink · 4 months

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Cultivating a Growth Mindset

A growth mindset is the belief that one's skills, qualities, and abilities can be nurtured and enhanced through hard work and learning. Adopting this mindset makes you more open to challenges, embracing the unfamiliar or uncomfortable and willing to experience failure.

However, adopting this growth mindset means we must challenge our limiting self-beliefs that reinforce our fixed mindset. Limiting beliefs is the negative thoughts that hold us back, hindering our journey of self-improvement.

RECOGNISE YOUR FIXED MINDSET. Start to be aware of how your fixed mindset, became your everyday internal dialogue. Fear of failure, procrastination, always being in your comfort zone or being a constant quitter could be why this mindset has been reinforced in your mind.

That being said, you need to start being conscious of what you’re saying to yourself daily. If you struggle with that, try speaking to yourself out loud, as it helps to be more aware of what you’re saying.

REMOVE ANYTHING THAT DOESN’T ALIGN, i’m specifally talking about social media. There are so many self degarding or depreciating content(which are always disgusied as a ‘joke’) and the more you consume it, the more you believe it.

However this can apply to your physical environment as well, such as people, sentimental objects or your actual space.

START TO REDEFINE FAILURE. There are so many ways you can define failure, but my favourite has to be failure is the sacrifice for success. Of course, you can research other ways to redefine it that resonates with you.

However, allow yourself to grieve failures, especially if they had a huge impact on your life. The only way you can apply the lessons from failure in life is to process them.

DO SOMETHING CHALLENGING EACH DAY. Whether it is giving yourself an extra 20 minutes at the gym, or trying to advance yourself in your studies, just do something that pushes you and hopefully, makes you struggle.

Once we allow ourselves to struggle and be challenged, we start to develop the belief that being challenged is okay, not doing it perfect on the first try is okay we can still do tasks without them being perfect + you’re also embracing failure.

APPRECIATE YOUR EFFORT. Something is always better than nothing, not everything that we do has to be perfect to consider ourselves accomplished. Once we acknowledge the value of hard work and see how it impacts our day-to-day life, it enforces the belief that we can expand our skills even just by a little.

The perfect way to appreciate your effort is by celebrating or rewarding yourself. Allow yourself extra screen time, to sleep in, or do any of your favourite ‘unproductive’ activities.

SEEK OUT NEW KNOWLEDGE. Not just reading an article and calling it a day, but actively researching something memorable. This doesn’t have to be a scholarly topic, it could be anything. When we start to desire to learn, which is practically the main thing about a growth mindset, it enforces those beliefs.

BUILD RESILENCE. You’re going to fail, struggle, lose and maybe suffer. While it is important to grieve what happens, you should be able to bounce back after some time. Building this skill is so important in the growth mindset, as it helps you to take control of your emotions and not the other way around.

This applies to constructive criticism as well. People will not always give you praise, but that doesn’t matter, what matters is your ability to act on that criticism. An outside perspective always helps to improve yourself and your abilities.

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comradekatara · 1 month

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Your atla analysis is the best so I wanted to ask your opinion on something I've found the fandom fairly divided on - what did you think of Azula's ending within the show proper? Unnecessarily cruel or a necessary tragedy? Would you say that her mental breakdown was too conveniently brought about in order to 'nerf' her for the final agni kai? Also, do you think it was 'right' for Zuko to have fought with his sister at all or would it have been better for him to seek a more humane way to end the cycle of violence?

okay so im saying this as someone who loves azula to death like she has always been one of my absolute favorite characters ever since i was a kid and i’ve always vastly preferred her to zuko and found her to be extremely compelling and eminently sympathetic. i am saying this now before the azula stans come for me. i believe in their beliefs. but i also think her downfall is perfectly executed, and putting aside all the bullshit with the comics and whatever else, it’s a really powerful conclusion to her arc. obviously that isn’t to say that she wouldn’t continue to grow and develop in a postcanon scenario (i have a whole recovery arc for her mapped out in my head, like i do believe in her Healing Journey) but from a narrative perspective, her telos is in fact very thematically satisfying.

no, she wasn’t nerfed so that they could beat her in a fight. the fact that she falls apart is what makes them feel that they can confidently take her on (although i do think in a fair fight katara could win anyway), but the whole point is that it’s not about winning or losing in combat. the whole point is that zuko and azula being pitted against each other in this gratuitous ritual of violence as the culmination of their arcs is fundamentally tragic. yes it’s a bad decision to fight her, and zuko should have chosen another path, but the whole point is that he’s flawed and can only subscribe to the logic he has spent his whole life internalizing through violence and abuse.

that’s why aang’s fight against ozai, while tragic in its own way, is also a triumph for the way in which his ideals prevail in the face of genocide, while zuko and azula’s fight is very patently tragic. there is no moment of victory or triumph. even as zuko sacrifices himself in a beautiful mirroring of “the crossroads of destiny” and as katara uses the element of her people combined with techniques across other cultures to use azula’s hubris and ideology of domination against her, it’s presented as moments of personal growth occurring within a very tragic yet inevitable situation. it was inevitable because azula had always been positioned as an extension of her father, and thus to disempower ozai also means disempowering azula, his favorite site of projection, his favorite weapon.

yeah, it does rub me the wrong way when zuko asks katara whether she’d like to help him “put azula in her place.” it’s not a kind way to talk about your abused younger sister. but it’s also important to understand that zuko doesn’t really recognize his sister’s pain, despite the fact that they obviously share a father, because he’s always assumed that she was untouchable as their perfect golden child and thus never a victim. and he’s wrong. zuko and katara expect a battle of triumph and glory, noble heroes fighting valiantly so that good may prevail over evil. but as they discover here, even more so than their previous discovery two episodes prior, a battle is not a legendary event filled with bombast and beauty until after it has been historicized. often a war is simply fought between pathetic, desperate people who see no other option but to fight.

aang’s ultimate refusal to fight despite having all the power in the world is what makes him so important as the protagonist. but katara and zuko both share a more simplistic view of morality and what it means to be good. and zuko assumes that by fighting azula, he can only be punching up, because she has always been positioned as his superior, and she (in her own words!) is a “monster.” and then azula loses, and his entire worldview shatters. joking about putting her in her place makes way for the realization that behind all her posturing and lying (to herself more than anyone) and performance and cognitive dissonance, azula has always been broken, perhaps even more than he is.

azula says “im sorry it has to end this way, brother,” to which zuko replies “no you’re not.” but i think azula is truly sorry, because in her ideal world, she wouldn’t be fighting zuko. she doesn’t actually want to kill him, as much as she claims to. she’s already reached the conclusion that zuko will only truly reach once their fight is over. she lacks a support system, and she needs one, desperately. if she could somehow get her family back, do everything differently, less afraid of the consequences, she would. she’s smirking, she sounds almost facetious, but really, she is sorry. as of this moment, she really doesn’t want it to end this way. but zuko cannot accept that, because in his mind, azula is evil. azula has no soul nor feeling. azula always lies.

her breakdown doesn’t come out of nowhere, either. it’s precipitated by everyone she has ever cared about betraying her. first zuko betrays her, then mai, then ty lee, and then ozai — the person she has staked her entire identity to and to whom she has pledged her undying loyalty and obedience, become nothing more than a vessel for his whims — discards her because she had the audacity to care about someone other than him. what i don’t think zuko realizes, and perhaps will never realize, is that azula betrayed ozai by bringing zuko back home. he was not supposed to be brought back with honor and with glory. azula specifically orchestrated the fight in the catacombs to motivate him to join her, and it’s not because she’s some cruel sadistic monster who wanted to separate a poor innocent soft uwu bean from his loving uncle, it’s because she genuinely believes that she’s doing what’s best for him. she believes that their uncle is a traitor and a bad influence, and she believes that bringing zuko home with his honor “restored” is an act of love. to her it is.

yes, she claims that she was actually just manipulating him so that she wouldn’t have to take the fall if the avatar was actually alive, but also, she’s clearly just covering her own ass. she didn’t know about the spirit water, and only started improvising when zuko started showing hesitation. but even if she was only using zuko, then that was an insane risk to take, because either way she was lying directly to ozai’s face. and zuko admits it to ozai while simultaneously committing treason, so of course ozai would blame azula, his perfect golden child who tried to violate his decree by bringing zuko back home a prisoner at best and dead at worst, and instead found a way to restore his princehood with glory.

we only see ozai dismissing and discarding azula in the finale, but it’s clearly a tension that’s been bubbling since the day of black sun. and we know this because we do see azula falling apart before the finale. in “the boiling rock” she is betrayed by her only friends. in “the southern raiders” we see that this has taken a toll on her, that she is already somewhat unhinged. she and zuko tie in a one on one fight for the first time. and she takes down her hair as she uses her hairpin to secure herself against the edge of a cliff. unlike zuko, who is helped by his friends and allies, who has a support system. it’s a very precarious position; she’s literally on a cliff’s edge, alone, her hair down signifying her unraveling mental state. azula having her hair down signals to us an audience that she is in a position of vulnerability. she is able to mask this terrifying moment wherein she nearly plummets to her death with a triumphant smirk, but it should be evident to us all that her security is fragile here.

and the thing is, even though she’s always masked it with a smirk and perfect poise, her security has always been fragile. azula has never been safe. azula’s breakdown is simply the culmination of her realization that no matter how hard she tries, she will never be ozai’s perfect weapon, because she is a human being. she is a child, no less. and there is no one in her entire life who loves her for nothing. zuko has iroh, who affirms to him that he could never be angry with zuko, that all he wants is simply what is best for zuko. but azula doesn’t have unconditional support in her life. she doesn’t even have support.

everyone she ever thought she could trust has betrayed her, and so she yells that trust is for fools. because she feels like a fool. of course fear is the only way; it’s what kept her in line all these years. azula is someone who is ruled by fear, and who is broken by the recognition that fear isn’t enough. her downfall is necessarily tragic because her worldview is wrong. the imperialist logic of terror as a tool for domination is her own undoing, just as ozai’s undoing is losing the weapon he has staked his national identity to. it’s a battle of ideals. aang v ozai: pacifism v imperialism. katara and zuko v azula: love and support v fear and isolation.

zuko is unfair to azula, it’s true. he tries to fight her even as he can clearly recognize that “she’s slipping.” instead of trying to help his little sister, he uses that weakness to his advantage, tries to exploit her pain so that he can finally, for the first time ever, beat her in a fight. it’s cruel, but it’s also how siblings act. especially considering the conditions under which they were raised, and how zuko has always viewed her. and in zuko’s defense, she has tried to kill him multiple times lately, both in “the boiling rock” and in “the southern raiders.” zuko is someone who gets fixated on a goal and blocks out everything else, including recognition of his surroundings or empathy for others. so of course when he’s promised to put azula in her place he’s going to exploit her weaknesses to do so. after all, isn’t exploiting his weaknesses exactly what azula does best? so he allows himself to stoop to her level, and in fact only redeems himself through his sacrifice for katara. but it is when azula is chained to the grate and zuko and katara, leaning on each other, look down and observe the sheer extent on her pain, that zuko realizes that “putting azula in her place” isn’t actually a victory. it feels really, really bad, actually.

they’re in a similar position as they were when they faced yon rha. and now it is zuko’s turn to understand that he is not a storybook hero triumphing over evil, but rather a human being, facing another human being, in a conflict that is larger than themselves. to “put someone in their place” is to imply a logic of domination, of inherent superiority, that someone has stepped out of line and must be reordered neatly into the hierarchy. but aang disputes the notion, ozai’s notion, that humanity can be classified along these lines, that there exists an ontological superiority among some and not others. so operation: putting azula in her place was always going to be flawed, even if she was performing competency the way she always does, because they’re nonetheless subscribing to her logic.

of course they should be helping azula, of course they should be reaching out to abuse victims through support instead of more violence. but first they must recognize her victimhood. first they must come to understand that they didn’t get lucky, and they didn’t dominate her because they are more “powerful,” that they weren’t “putting her in her place.” they must understand that they are not heroes fighting villains in a glorious trial by combat. that the logic of the agni kai is flawed. that they are all victims. that they are all just scared, hurt children who are still grieving their mothers.

#update: ok i readmored it 👍🏼#azula #analysis #zuko #katara #ozai #azula&zuko #azula&ozai #asks #malatilata #ugh azula is such a beautiful character….. i love her sm #her arc is so beautifully perfectly tragic #just thinking abt the mirror scene gets me sooo . distraught #this was supposed to be like 2 paragraphs lol #as is always the way . with me..

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augustinewrites · 1 year

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the first time it happens, bakugou is caught completely off guard and is therefore unable to properly act upon it.

he’s just gotten off his patrol, groaning loudly as he sinks into his plush desk chair. he still needs to type up his report and go over the notes left by his assistant before he can call it a day, but as he waits for his monitor to boot up, exhaustion creeps over him.

as a rule, bakugou did not usually nap in order to keep his strict sleep schedule. but after a long week of work, he can’t help but let his eyes drift shut and a yawn escape as he lays his head back.

that is, of course, when the door to his office opens. and there’s only one person brave enough to open the door without knocking first. “hey.”

“hi,” you smile, stepping inside to place a bottle of water and a pack of electrolytes on his desk. “will i see you at home soon?”

he glances at his monitor, the clock in the corner reading 4:48pm, twelve minutes before the workday is over. wincing, he rubs his temple. “might still be a while, sorry.”

“do you want me to stay and keep you company?”

it’s a tempting offer, but he shakes his head. “no, ’s alright. just pick up some takeout and i’ll meet you at home soon.”

“okay,” you agree, but only because you both know that after you grab some takeout, you’ll be right back here to keep him company anyway. “just don’t work yourself too hard, promise?”

“yeah, yeah,” he mutters, letting you press a kiss to his temple.

“alright, see you later, pumpkin!”

bakugou pauses, brows furrowing. “wait–”

you’re already sailing out of the room though, and bakugou slumps back into his chair. you did not just call him, dynamight, pumpkin. that was something people named orange tabbys, not the number two pro with the highest offensive stats on the charts.

_____

he wishes that he could say the first time was the last, but it turns out that pumpkin wasn’t the worst nickname you could bestow upon him.

you’re just sauntering out of the bedroom when you join him in the kitchen the next morning, freshly showered after his jog and fixing you a cup of coffee. you’re not a person until at least 9am, responding to his good morning, baby with a grumble as presses the mug into your hands.

you wake up a little after you’ve had a few sips, smiling at him over the rim of your mug as you murmur, “thanks, sweetpea.”

bakugou, who’d been gulping down a glass of water, nearly chokes, sputtering, “babe—”

“do you want to make waffles?” you ask, smiling so sweetly at him that he doesn’t have the heart to reprimand you. so he just doesn’t answer right away, wary of any more saccharine sweet nicknames you might fire off.

“katsuki?”

“yeah, waffles. sure,” he replies stupidly, watching as you nod and begin pulling ingredients from the cupboards, criminally oblivious to the quarter-life crisis he’s having.

_____

bakugou doesn’t know what’s going on with you. he’s heavily considering a trip to the er, because you must have been hit with some sort of quirk that makes you call him disgustingly corny pet names.

“nice catch, cupcake!” you applaud upon his return to the agency after apprehending a villain. one of the interns starts to laugh, but quickly smothers it when the pro-hero shoots him a withering stare.

“looking good, sugarplum,” you compliment when he’s in the middle of a quick, post-lunch workout in his office. he’d stopped mid curl, almost dropping 50 pounds on his foot.

“thanks, muffin,” you grin after getting his signature on the report he’d missed earlier in the day. he tells kirishima, who’d been there trying to steal a protein bar from his desk and is starting to laugh, to shut the fuck up or get out.

it wasn’t that he hated pet names (he thought they could be cute). what he hated was being referred to as various pastries that sound like they’d come out of his dad’s cookbook.

but he could handle it. could handle you because, well, he loved you. and you make sacrifices for those you love, even if it means his friends and fellow pros stop calling him dynamite and start calling him honeycakes instead. besides, you’d get over…whatever kind of phase this was eventually.

and you do.

“goodnight, lovebug,” you murmur, just as he’s on the precipice of sleep. but he’s wide awake now, sitting up to flick the bedside lamp on.

“how do you just say things like that?” he asks, genuinely bewildered.

you rub the sleep from your eyes, blinking yourself awake. “like what?”

“the names!” he groans, rubbing a hand over his face. “they’re ridiculous.”

“they’re not ridiculous,” you huff indignantly as you turn to face him. “they’re cute, like you.”

“i am not cute,” he scoffs, batting your hand away when you poke his cheeks. “you just— you can’t keep callin’ me shit like cupcake or lovebug. just pick somethin’ else to call me.”

you’re looking at him with a shit-eating grin on your face, and bakugou feels he’s made a mistake of some kind. “should i call you my love instead?”

heat crawls up his neck as he averts his gaze. “that’s alright.”

you shuffle closer. “yeah? what about…darling?”

“you can use that, sure,” he shrugs, hoping he doesn’t look as flustered as he feels.

you’re straddling his lap now, dipping your head down to whisper,

“what if i called you daddy?”

he freezes, fingers digging into your hips as your teeth graze the shell of his ear.

you get your answer when he flips you both over so you’re trapped against the mattress, swallowing your gasp with a heated kiss.

BONUS:

you hum contentedly as kirishima places a stack of bills into your waiting palm. “i told you he would break in less than a week.”

the redhead groans loudly, lamenting his empty wallet. “man, i thought he was stronger than this!”

“if i’d called him something like ‘kitten,’ this whole thing would have gone a lot faster,” you muse, shaking your head.

kirishima, clearly having not learned from his recent loss, suggests, “i’ll buy you lunch for a week if you call him that during the board meeting later.”

“i’ll buy you lunch for two weeks if you do it,” you counter.

“deal!”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugo katuski x reader #bnha x reader #bakugo fluff

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screeching-bunny · 11 months

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Yandere! Priests Hcs

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

🌟 Yandere! Priest is a very devoted lover. He makes sure that all your needs are whether they be external or internal things. Cares more about your life then his own and is willing to sacrifice anything for you. He makes sure to follow any request that you have for him and is even willing to act as your pet if you ever wanted him to.

🌟 Yandere! Priest gave up his religion in order to worship you. You are the reason for living without you, he would be nothing. Everyday he wakes up is for you. You are his sunshine, his beacon of light, and his God. It would be wrong for him not to devote every second of his life to you. Why would he not? You definitely deserve all of it.

🌟 Yandere! Priest is very easy to manipulate due to his willingness to follow your every command. That however, does not make him any less dangerous though. He has many connections and is friends with almost every powerful person in the world. If he ever needed to he would ask them for help in getting rid of certain matters.

🌟 Yandere! Priest is a bit of a germaphobe and would constantly come over to your room to clean it. Washes all your clothes for you and basically does all the household chores. With him by your side, you can basically rot in bed all day.

🌟 Yandere! Priest would probably make up a religion based on you and would try to get others to join. He has a very mild temperament and is almost always kind to others. However, that doesn’t mean you can go and disrespect him whenever you want. He hates getting his hands and would manipulate anyone so that he can get his way.

🌟 Yandere! Priest is an S tier manipulator. Anything you do or say can be twisted to this man's will. He’s insanely smart and could haggle his way into getting anything for free. Many people look up to him and don’t understand that he’s just using them. To them he’s an angel who would never want to hurt anyone.

🌟 Yandere! Priest secretly puts a tracker on you so that he can track your every move. He is very particular on who gets to associate with you. He won’t even let anyone 20 feet near you if he doesn’t approve of him. Those people don’t even deserve to be in your presence, they're all just lesser beings that might try to corrupt or harm you.

🌟 Yandere! Priest cares a lot about your opinions on him. He’ll sometimes get self conscious and will wonder if he’s pleasing you enough. If you even dare to say that you're unsatisfied with him, he’ll act as if he created the greatest sin in the universe.

🌟 Yandere! Priest most likely met when he’s severely injured and you helped save him. Due to that, he’s been by your side ever since. He was in dire need of assistance and you were brought down from heaven just for him. How could he ever repay you for this? By attending to your needs, after all he was created to serve you.

🌟 Yandere! Priest has an altar of you, where he just prays to it everyday. At night, his thoughts are full of you and when he wakes up, they are still full of you. Nothing is going to change that. His love for you is so immense, that you’ll feel suffocated by it daily. It’s honestly so scary sometimes, no one should be this obsessed with a person.

🌟 Yandere! Priest could never bring himself to yell at you if you ever did something wrong. If anything, he’d gaslight someone else into thinking that they were the ones at fault. “My love did not break that plate, it was just too slippery for someone to hold properly. You should have designed it better, this better not happen again.”

🌟 Yandere! Priest would never harm you if you tried running away from him. Instead he would just give you a disappointed look and then lock you up in a lavish room for a few days. Seeing the look of pain on your face also causes him pain. So he’ll try his best to never cause you any physical harm.

🌟 Yandere! Priest would make running away extremely difficult. He would make sure that guards would always be guarding your room and if you were ever in public eyes would be constantly on you. The vast number of people watching you would deter you from the idea of escaping.

🌟 Yandere! Priest is amazing at painting. When he’s not busy, he spends all of his free time sketching you. You're his favorite thing to draw and are basically his muse. Has multiple sketch books filled to the brim with pictures of you. Will sometimes even run up to you with one of his paintings and wait for you to compliment them.

🌟 Yandere! Priest is willing to be a pawn in any scheme you try to play. He doesn't care if you're just using him, as long as it’s only him. Can sometimes be a little delusional when it comes to you. You’re staying with him because you love him, totally not because he’s forcing his love upon you.

🌟 Yandere! Priest gets so offended if someone dares to even insult you. That is considered blasphemy to him and there’s no way he’s letting that individual get away with that. Whether they are a woman or child, they’re not getting away with it and will be severely punished.

🌟 Yandere! Priest sings praises to you on a daily basis. You can’t go one second without him complimenting you on something. He brags about you to other people so often that they start to get tired of your name. Will go on for hours if he really wanted to. There’s just nothing about you that he doesn’t admire. You’re just so awesome.

🌟 Yandere! Priest dislikes being away from you. Every second away from you is like hell. He honestly can’t stand it. Can be very needy at times and beg for you attention if he has to.

🌟 Yandere! Priest overall is not the worst yandere to have. There definitely are people who are more vicious and willing to take away every freedom you have. Just make sure not to run away from him and you’ll be living a smooth sailing life.

Pt.2

#yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere priest #yandere oc #gn reader

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loveemagicpeace · 4 months

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☁️MOON THINGS AND EMOTIONS🌜

✨The moon governs our mood and needs. They move and change. Deals with our memories of the past. It represents our emotional nature and way of experiencing the world on an internal, subjective level.It is connected with feelings and emotions, as well as with the body, where emotions are supposed to be stored. These can affect your physical health, and physical symptoms often indicate unresolved or unexpressed emotional pain. A large part of this process takes place on an unconscious level, so we are not always aware of what we feel, and we need to take time and space.

We can relax at home and surround yourself with all the people you love and objects and with all the comfort we need. It's a private place where we can be intimate with others and show our vulnerable side. Its sign and position in the chart often indicate what maternal care we grew up with or how we experienced our mother. It can also describe what maternal care we offer to others - to our own children, as well as partners and friends.

The moon's cycle also represents our daily life habits and routines, including household ones tasks like cooking and cleaning - as soon as we finish them, we have to do them again tackle! When we repeat something often enough or long enough, it affects our body and every aspect of our life. The position of the Moon in the birth chart can indicate, what patterns do we stick to, it seems in our physical health as well as in general lifestyle. It also describes what it's like to live with us and how we behave in close personal relationships in which we show our vulnerable side. Moon can also describe our family background and our current home and family life.✨

🧸Moon in Cancer- they like comfort and feel best there. They don't like going to places where they don't feel their best. They are very intuitive and always know what their next step is. They are often tied to people, things and places that are close to their hearts. Also they don't like strangers. They like being around people that are close to them and people with whom they feel safe to and they just don't really like places that are very unfamiliar and they don't like the places that are unknown or big or full people. Although they are very emotional, they do not show it outwardly. Many times their emotions depend on how they react and what they do. Their routine usually involves something they connect with emotionally. Life with them is pleasant (they will always make sure that you feel comfortable, pleasant and satisfied with them, they care and give you a lot of love). Many times they do cute things for you. They can also be moody sometimes.

🎡Moon in Leo- they feel comfortable when they are doing something that invigorates them and gives them life. They always have their hobbies that they follow. They find themselves through playfulness and childlike energy. It is very important for them to maintain their childlike energy and they will feel the best around people who have this energy. Living with them is fun and fiery. They will always remember to do something to brighten your day. They will always want to keep the romance alive. When they love, they love intensely. They are likely to feel strong emotions. There is often a passionate intensity that needs to be expressed. They can also be dramatic. Finding ways to express yourself is likely to be important for you. At this level, it is very important that you find a partner who is demonstrative, and pays attention to your emotional needs. When partners take the time to make you feel special, then you can respond by sharing all your abundance of emotional warmth with them.

🫧Moon in Pisces- they usually like places that are isolated and places that are empty. They don't like too many people around them. They do a lot for the people around them and can be very compassionate and self-sacrificing. They will sacrifice a lot for the person they love. Living with them can be like a dream you've never been in, but at the same time, things can also be confusing. Many times they swim into their own waters and worlds. They usually get lost in their own way of emotions and things. They just like being there they like to escape from the world.

🎢Moon in Aquarius- this moon will express its feelings and moods less and less. Instead of being very close to the family, she will probably need her own space and time to think. A lot of times this moon is lonely or makes a person that way. Many times they feel more alienated from family and people. It is difficult for them to accept someone, or they feel completely accepted in their surroundings. Because there is a part of them that is always looking for a place and an environment where they really belong. Living with them is unpredictable but very unique and different from anyone else.

⛵️Moon in Aries- a very independent moon and from a young age they are used to being alone and independent from their family. Many times they don't include family as much in their daily routine. Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life- it is their mindset. They have a lot of courage and are very fearless emotionally. Their day practically includes more or less only them. They can be passionate about their partner and their feelings, but once they're gone, they don't come back. They are likely to be most comfortable with others who let them be themselves. They are very spontaneous and direct.

🦋Moon in Taurus- they feel most comfortable with music, movies, good food, the comfort of material things, nature. They like luxurious things, material things, but above all for comfort - they want to have everything they can enjoy. They are tied to people, from predestination and stability of life. Many times they also have an emotional attachment to the people and things around them. And they like to live in their comfort. Life with them is simple and stable. They will give you anything you want and they will do it very selflessly. They are very persistent and once they decide on someone they will not stop persevering and will always prove how much they love you. They are attached to physical touch and it means a lot to them.

⚡️Moon in Capricorn- they prefer to act alone and go their own way. People with this moon sometimes don't need someone emotionally. Kind of hard to find a connection with someone and they take a long time to really connect with someone. Many times they have the feeling that they burden people emotionally and are used to keeping their emotions inside. Their routine is usually full of duty and seriousness. They like to do a lot in a day. They have a very strong focus on things. They can detach emotionally easily(this doesn't mean that they don't love the person but they are people that are like okay I have to do my own thing now). But they are actually very caring people- they will always help other people.

❄️People with moon in 11th house will always be looking for a friend who will fulfill them emotionally. And they can quickly feel emotionally drained from their friends. They are people who will work hard to emotionally feel that they have fulfilled their dreams, goals.

💘People with moon in 8th house will always seek deep intimacy. They will invest a lot emotionally in the things and people they love. They will fall deeply into the routine and feel the emotions. Everything you do will need your soul and depth emotionally. Very often Moon in the 8th house people have a natural ability to help others find a greater sense of self-worth and value.

🦭Synastry moon in 4th house-it indicates that with this person you feel like you can tell them anything without feeling afraid. You feel very comfortable and cozy around them. They give you a sense of security. Emotionally, you feel that this person really understands you and you feel very comfortable with this person. As if they were your family.

🩷Synastry moon in 7th house- you invest a lot emotionally in this relationship and feel that this person accepts your feelings. You feel comfortable in this relationship. You may also feel emotionally dependent on this person. Emotionally, this relationship really means a lot to you, and you see this person as really understanding your feelings and accepting them.

☁️Synastry moon in 2nd house- with this person you will feel like they can give you emotional value and that they appreciates your feelings. You feel a kind of stability and security, that this person will always protect your feelings.

⛵️Synastry moon in 10th house- you can feel responsible from for feelings of other person. Like you feel some kind of responsibility to this person and when you feel things for this person you feel like you feel really hard and intense and stable. But I think sometimes you can feel alone or maybe some kind of distance from this person is like you feel things but you don't know how to express them. You feel like you are not so connected to this person emotionally.

✨Ig-bekylibra

-Rebekah☁️🫧🌜

#astrology #energy #zodiac signs #planets #my notes #astrological houses #moon signs #emotional

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scromchz · 10 months

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v for vendetta | elw (m.)

— your boss has seemingly had it out for you since day one.

contents. mean boss!ellie williams/intern!reader | smut, fluff | 3.1k

warnings. kinda loser!ellie, jelly ellie, cursing, mdni - smut, fingering, mild spit kink.

note. a reupload from prev blog with same name, with some edits. its a wee bit cringe to me so be prepared. but people seemed to like it so enjoy and happy pride month <3

Getting your foot into the corporate world was never going to be easy. You knew this before you even applied for the summer internship at the DarkHorse Tech conglomerate, well aware that you'd have to claw your way up from rock bottom without so much as chipping a manicured nail. But you were optimistic; freshly graduated from college, and ready to take the challenge head-on.

That was before you met Ellie Williams.

Boss to the company, and your personal tormenter. She made hell seem like a cozy vacation spot.

What you did to get under her skin was a mystery. Hell, you didn't even report to her directly. There were at least three meat shields between you and her within the hierarchy. But somewhere, somehow, you blipped onto her radar, and you have stayed there like a bad stain ever since.

She made your work life an agonizing affair, and nothing you ever did seem to please her. If anything it had the opposite effect. Paperwork you'd spent hours agonizing over was always a 'complete mess', and she'd keep you after hours in her office to belittle you without ever correcting any so-called mistakes.

She shoulder-checked you in the hallway and picked apart your appearance when nobody was around. It didn't matter if you were wearing a grandma sweater and a floor-length, shapeless skirt. She threatened to write you up for a dress code violation like you showed up in your birthday suit for casual Fridays.

You were sent on wild goose chases disguised as coffee runs to places that didn't even exist, then berated for arriving late and empty-handed. Or god forbid, with Starbucks. You were supposed to be doing data entry, for fucks sake. And if you were to so much as smile at one of your coworkers she would pop out of nowhere to tell you off for slacking, like a damn high-school hall monitor.

Anytime you tried to voice your grievances to your manager, they'd give you a sympathetic smile. What she says goes, they'd awkwardly relay, she's the boss.

There was nothing you could do. She wielded all the power and flaunted it outright. During the mandatory bullying and harassment presentation she even singled you out, asking by name if you had any questions or if there was anything you 'didn't understand'. Message received.

Today was no different.

She'd sent a pristine pile of cardstock flying out of your hands and onto the floor, tsking at you for being clumsy when she'd purposefully swiped at them. You had to get on your knees and meticulously pick up each one, all the while she loomed over you, a smug smile on her annoyingly perfect face.

Of course, you had to sacrifice your break to grab Ellie her own lunch from across town. While your coworkers got to enjoy their downtime in the breakroom you'd seen the inside of twice. You were exhausted, dropping her food off at her desk while she pretended you weren't there, but you couldn't even be bothered to care. That's not to say you didn't feel her eyes burning into your backside when you left.

What you didn't see was the furrow in her brows, concern lacing her heated gaze when she saw you were empty-handed. She knew for a fact she told you to get something for yourself when she handed over her card. Strike number one of the day. Not taking care of yourself was unacceptable.

She kept a close eye on you through her one-way office window, which was easy considering she had your desk moved directly into her line of sight. You were hunched over your desk, periodically wiping at your tired eyes to keep focused.

Then your shit-stick fellow interns had the gall to shirk their duties onto you. Like rolling around in daddy's money made them incapable of using a fax machine. And you, sweet, sweet you, had the nerve to weakly smile and say no problem. Ellie's eyes narrowed, aggressively chewing on her straw like an angry gremlin. Oh, there's a fucking problem all right. Strike number two.

As the clock neared five-thirty, you were nearly home free. If only office fuckboy extraordinaire hadn't waltzed over to you. What happened next made Ellie see red.

He made you blush. Oh, hell no.

Faster than you could kindly reject Brad's offer to take you out, the door to Ellie's office swung open. The force smacked it harshly into the adjoining wall.

She dismissed everyone for the day, and in the same breath barked out your name. "In my office," her tone left no room for disagreements. "Now."

Brad sucked in his teeth, offering a 'good luck' before high tailing it out of there along with the rest of the office. You could already hear whispers of your name, musings of what you did this time to warrant such an explosive reaction. Nobody envied you.

With shaky limbs, you stood, cowering under the weight of her glare. She held open the door, forcing you to brush against her suit-clad chest. The click of the lock sent a shiver down your spine.

"Sit," she commanded. But clicked her tongue when you slid into your usual seat in front of her desk. "No, not there."

You looked around in confusion, thinking you'd misheard her over your thunderous heartbeat. She looked expectant. Not to mention pissed.

But a cursory scan of the room confirms your thoughts. There were no chairs besides Ellie's, and the one you occupied.

You were used to her outlandish demands, but this was a whole new level. She was being difficult just to be difficult. Did she expect you to sit criss-cross apple sauce at her feet?

You pause, reigning in your irritation. "I don't understand. Ms. Williams, is—“

Angling your neck in her direction, your speech falters. She's much closer than you anticipated. Leaning down, her face was mere inches from your own. Your cheeks heat, and you're momentarily struck by her looks from up close.

It pains you to admit it, after everything she's put you through. The very person who makes you dread waking up in the morning can make your tummy flutter at the same beat. She was good-looking, objectively speaking. With the whole freckle-faced, green-eyed thing going on.

Plus she smelled good. Ugh.

Ellie's jaw clenches. "No. I don't think you do."

Before you can respond, probably with an unprofessional what the fuck, she's yanking you up out of your seat. You sputter, skin burning from the contact of her hand wrapped around your elbow. She uses it to maneuver you like a rag doll.

She purposefully steps forward as you stumble off-balanced and careen into her. Just when you think things couldn't get any stranger, Ellie abandons her hold on your arm, hooking around your waist instead, pressing your entire front into hers.

Her arms cage into you on either side of the desk, and it digs into your backside. "Your behavior today has been unacceptable. I should write you up—"

Something in you snaps.

"Then do it!" You cut in. You'd heard this exact spiel a hundred times over. And despite her numerous threats, your record remained spotless. "I am so sick of this. What'd I even do to make you hate me so much?!"

Momentarily, you seem to stun her. Weakly she mutters, "I don't hate you."

"Yeah right," you scoff, throwing propriety out the window.

Both of you were crossing lines, and you had to accept that you'd likely be out of a job come morning. She was the boss, after all. Blinking away an onslaught of tears, you focus over her shoulder at the beige walls.

She doesn't let you avoid her gaze for long. To your dismay, both her hands grip your face, forcing you to meet her frantic eyes.

"I- fuck, I don't. Seriously. I just," her voice actually cracked. Panic gripped her clear as day, a stark contrast to her typical nonchalant persona. It kept you from stomping on her foot and high tailing it out of there, if only just to see this through and get some long-awaited answers. "I never meant to— oh, fuck it."

Her chapped lips crashed into yours and time stopped. She was actually kissing you.

Frozen and wide-eyed, you see firsthand the way she melts. Her eyes flutter shut, pressing into you as close as possible so that you're forced backward — a few pens clattering off the desk

Never in your wildest dreams did you foresee this outcome. But for some inexplicable reason, you kiss her back.

Despite your shock, or the questions on the tip of your tongue. Your eyes shut, and your lips finally move against hers. A deep moan is pulled from the depths of her chest and into the slick heat of your mouth.

Grabbing at the lapels on Ellie's suit, you're pleased by how she bends to your whims, arching into you. Her hands wander, a timid quality you would've never attributed to her. She gives your lips chase when you pull away with a wet pwap.

"Why does this feel so, fuck-" you dazedly pant into her spit-slicked mouth. "So good."

"I can make you feel even better," she rushes out, thumbs massaging mindless circles into your hips. She looks drunk, glassy-eyed and flushed pink. "If you let me. Please."

Please. What a trip. You had half a mind to search the room for hidden prank-show cameras.

This new power you seem to hold over her thrums in your veins. It overshadows any lingering doubts, muting the little voice in your head that says this is a bad idea. Instead, you give into the giddy feeling, letting it rush to your head like fizzy soda bubbles.

Tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear, you nod. "Then touch me."

Her eyes light up like a kid on christmas, and her lips stretch into a toothy smile. It's crooked—but hell, is it cute.

Ellie hitches your legs around her hips and pulls your weight into her arms, all the while lavishing your neck with deep sucks. Mindlessly she says things like sweet girl, and even a succession of garbled thank you's. It throws you for a loop; but you can’t deny the way it makes you ache.

Kicking the rolling chair out of the way, she takes you both down to the carpeted floor, laying you gently beneath her. After getting the green light, her hesitation melts away.

Slipping under your shirt, she hungrily palms your tits beneath your bra. The tips of her fingers are calloused, but that fact only seems to heighten your pleasure when they pinch your nipple. With the hand other cradling your skull, she licks into your mouth.

Distracted by her sweet taste, you're caught off guard when Ellie jams a knee between your thighs, forcing out a squeaky, embarrassing moan.

"Fuck," she detaches with a pop, sounding awestruck. Resting her forehead against yours, she peers down. If only she could burn the image of you grinding against her, she would; driven further mad by the feeling of your hot cunt, searing even through the layers separating you.

Suddenly she sits up, shedding her suit jacket and rolling her sleeves to the elbow. She's the picture of sin. Somehow you never realized she was so toned— and, is that a tattoo?

You follow her lead, wriggling out of your blouse and tossing it aside. She helps you with the rest of your clothes, eagerly dragging down your skirt and leaving you in just a pair of cotton panties and a bra. You shy under her unwavering stare, not used to feeling so seen.

"You're unreal," she breathes, resting her hand on your tummy. Her stare lingers on your clothed pussy, the wetness seeping through making it mold to your puffy lips. A proud smirk appears on her face. "You're soaking, fuck. Do ya' always get this wet?"

You squirm, grabbing hold of her wrist. Not to stop her, just with the intention to anchor yourself. "Ms. Will-"

"Ellie," she corrects. She splays her long fingers and slides downwards, stopping to fully cup your heat. "Can I?"

"Yes," you whine, feverish with need. Ellie glides your underwear down your legs, knocking your knees together and pushing them toward your chest for easier access. Once off, she stuffs them into her pocket with zero shame.

Hunkering down, she grips your inner thighs, thumbs maddeningly close to where you're throbbing for her. Splaying them wide for her viewing pleasure, she sucks in a breath and the first sight of your glistening cunt.

"Knew your pussy would be cute," her husky voice drawls. She spreads your sticky folds with her index and middle finger, a string of slick keeping them connected. Exposing your flushed clit and twitching hole, she puckers her lips and with a puh, spits directly inside. Fucking hell— your hips buck, brain short-circuiting.

She doesn't let you get far. Ellie just chuckles, pinning your lower belly with her forearm. Now that she had you like this, there was no running away. Not when you'd only gotten a taste of the pleasure she intended to bestow.

She massages your opening with her thumb, just dipping the tip inside to ease you into it, feeling like sweet torture. Your core gets all cramped up from clenching around nothing, winding yourself up up up. Finally, she slips two of those long fingers inside, knuckle deep.

Scrambling for purchase, your grip finds her wrist like a bracelet. It seems to be your go-to, and you carve out a permanent place there with your nails. So slowly it aches, she bottoms out before tentatively thrusting.

"Oh m'god," you babble, eyes rolling. "oh m'god, you're inside me. I can feel you inside—!"

Ellie shudders, both at your words and the feel of your hot, wet cunt wrapped around her. Taking a deep breath is a mistake; she just gets a lungful of your heady scent. Combined with the feeling of you soaking her hand, her eyes full on roll to the back of her head

"Jesus." Her palm slips up your stomach, taking in every tense of muscle as an orgasm winds up in your core.

Tucking her fingers up in search of your special little spot, Ellie prods a bit before bingo — you clench up tight. You can't think, let alone speak. You can't recall a time you'd ever come so fast, but every curl of her fingers has you climbing up higher and higher to that peak.

Needing to be closer, Ellie plants her free forearm next to your head, upping the pace with her other hand. It grants her a front-row seat to every micro-expression you make, and she tailors her movements to what has you reacting best.

"Look at me," she murmurs, nose grazing your cheek. It takes a moment to comply, her voice sounding far away like you're underwater. "Good girl."

"El," you gasp, legs beginning to shake. Your eyes locked, begging for something.

"I know," she hushes, pecking your lips. She watches with bated breath the way your face crumples when her palm fits against your aching clit. It's just what you need, and your thighs keep her trapped there, grinding back and forth.

In a matter of seconds that feel like a lifetime, you reach your breaking point, cumming around her fingers. Every spasm pushes out a wave of stringy-slick, dribbling down her curled wrist and onto the floor. You don't envy the poor soul who will have to clean it up.

Ellie gently eases you back down to earth, shushing you softly. You can't recall when she slipped out, but from the corner of your eye, you see her stuff them into her mouth.

"Shit," you mutter. As the haze of lust starts to clear up, regret takes its place. You just let your boss, who gets their rocks off making you miserable, finger you on the floor of her office. God dammit--

"Hey," she says gently. It's the opposite reaction you're expecting. Instead of kicking you out, she sits you up, slipping her big jacket around you. When you're decent, she grabs and cradles your hand in two of hers. "I meant what I said. I don't hate you. The opposite, actually."

"Wha-" at first you tilt your head in confusion. Then you really take her in. The shifty eyes, the way she’s pulling at her fingers, those red capped ears of hers. Everything clicks. Oh. "Oh."

It never escaped you how she never paid anyone else the same level of attention. That even at its worst, she never truly hurt you. Just menaced you enough to become a fixture in your life.

"Yeah," she trails off.

"If you're serious, I need you to promise me something."

Ellie's gaze snaps to yours, completely moon-eyed. Reinvigorated, she laces your fingers together, planting a kiss on your knuckles. "Anything."

"One, no more bullshit."

She winces but readily agrees. "Of course."

"And two," you continue before she can jump the gun. "You take me out on a real date."

This gets you a real kiss. "I'll fly you to fucking Paris, whatever you want. Money is no obstacle."

You laugh against her lips. Jesus, this girl. "How about dinner and a movie to start."

"Fuck yeah. Sounds perfect."

For a few minutes, you bask in the moment, exchanging kisses before beginning to redress. Balancing with a hand on the desk to get your shoes on, you pause, suddenly remembering something.

“Can we circle back to the seat thing?” You ask, referencing her ridiculous demand from earlier. “Where were you even going with that?”

It takes a few seconds for your question to register, her mind and body still fuzzy. Then she flushes red, from her neck to the tips of her ears. Was she blushing? Now you were beyond intrigued.

“The desk,” she stutters. Your big scary boss actually stutters. “I was gonna, you know,” she clears her throat as if to dislodge the words.

Your grin is cheshire. “No, I don’t.”

“Like in the movies n’ stuff,” it’s as if it pains her to admit this. You eat it up. “I was gonna clear off the desk and make you sit there. It was supposed to be... sexy.”

You can’t help it. You laugh. “By 'clear' do you mean toss onto the floor?" You ask, eyeing the very breakable cutter on her desk. The image makes you laugh even harder, bellyaching. "You know that would’ve scared the shit out of me, right?”

Her pout deepens. Ellie buries her face into your neck, muffling her voice. “Shut up.”

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams x you #tlou fanfiction #tlou smut

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saraswritingtipps · 10 months

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Ways to hit your readers in the gut

When it comes to writing, there's a profound and mesmerizing way to touch your readers deep within their souls. It's about crafting moments that hit them in the gut, stirring up intense emotions and forging an everlasting connection. Here are some techniques to help you achieve this:

1. Unexpected Loss: Introduce a character who captures hearts, only to snatch them away suddenly. Think of J.K. Rowling's "Harry Potter" series, where the abrupt departure of beloved characters like Sirius Black and Fred Weasley leaves readers shattered, their grief a testament to the power of storytelling.

2. Sacrifice for a Cause: Show a character willingly sacrificing their own happiness or even their life for a greater purpose. Suzanne Collins' "The Hunger Games" portrays Katniss Everdeen's selflessness, volunteering as a tribute to save her sister, evoking empathy and admiration.

3. Unrequited Love: Explore the agony of unrequited love, where hearts ache and souls yearn. Charlotte Brontë's "Jane Eyre" delves into the bittersweet and heart-wrenching tale of Jane's unfulfilled affection for Mr. Rochester, resonating with readers who have experienced the profound depths of unrequited longing.

4. Betrayal by a Loved One: Peel back the layers of trust to reveal the sting of betrayal. George R.R. Martin's "A Song of Ice and Fire" series delivers shocking betrayals that shatter readers' expectations, leaving them stunned and heartbroken alongside the characters.

5. Overcoming Personal Demons: Illuminate the struggle against internal conflicts, be it addiction, guilt, or haunting trauma. Anthony Doerr's "All the Light We Cannot See" explores Werner's moral compass during wartime, captivating readers as they witness his battle for redemption and personal growth.

6. Injustice and Oppression: Shed light on the injustices characters endure, igniting empathy and inspiring change. Harper Lee's "To Kill a Mockingbird" reveals the racial prejudice faced by Tom Robinson, awakening readers to the urgent need for justice and equality.

7. Parent-Child Relationships: Navigate the intricate tapestry of emotions between parents and children. Khaled Hosseini's "The Kite Runner" unearths the complexities of the father-son bond, evoking a myriad of feelings, from longing and regret to hope for reconciliation.

8. Final Farewells: Craft poignant scenes where characters bid farewell, whether due to death or separation. Markus Zusak's "The Book Thief" gifts readers with heartbreaking partings amidst the backdrop of World War II, leaving an indelible mark of loss and the fragile beauty of human connections.

9. Personal Transformation: Illuminate characters' growth through adversity, offering a beacon of hope and inspiration. Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol" narrates Ebenezer Scrooge's extraordinary journey from a bitter miser to a beacon of compassion, reminding readers that redemption and personal change are within reach.

10. Existential Questions: Delve into existential themes that provoke deep introspection. Albert Camus' "The Stranger" challenges readers to ponder the meaning of life through Meursault's detached and nihilistic worldview, prompting them to question their own existence.

With these techniques, you have the power to touch your readers' souls, leaving an indelible impression. Remember to weave these moments seamlessly into your narrative, allowing them to enrich your characters and themes. Let your words resonate and ignite emotions, for that is the essence of impactful storytelling.

#writing #writing tips #character development #writer on tumblr #writerscommunity #writer tumblr #writblr #writing advice #oc character #writing block #writing habits #writing help #writersociety #fanfic

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amjustagirl · 27 days

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title: to rebuild a home pairing: kuroo x f! reader genre: angst / fluff, post timeskip! wc: 6.8k m.list

a/n: companion piece to the original love knows not its depth, from kuroo's perspective.

Kuroo Tetsuro is doing alright.

He’s deftly juggling the roles life has handed him. His tenth wedding anniversary is coming up. He’s gotten a nice pair of earrings and a reservation at Tokyo’s hottest omakase for you to celebrate. The girls are doing nicely at school - Aiko’s grades are excellent, and Fumiko’s not gotten into any schoolyard fights unlike Bokuto’s trio of sons. His bosses seem happy with him too, paving the way for him to climb the corporate ladder rung by rung. He’s earned each promotion by burning days in the office, nights in the izakayas schmoozing with his bosses, but it’s worth it, even if it admittedly comes at the expense of being with you and the girls.

It’s a sacrifice he has to make so he can provide you with the fairytale life he’s always promised you. Not that you’ve ever complained about the trade-off.

“She’s the best wife and mom I could’ve asked for”, he tells Kenma, when the former setter asks about you. “I don’t know how she does it.”

Kenma frowns. “You make her sound like a video game character.”

“That’s cos she’s amazing -”

“Kinda sucks that she pretty much has to juggle a full time job and the kids on her own most of the time.”

“She manages perfectly well”, Kuroo enthuses, oblivious to the barb in his friend’s words. “By the time I get home, the girls are in bed, the house is clean, and there’s even a lunch box packed for me each day. She’s a rockstar at work too - should be up for a promotion next financial year.”

“Huh”, Kenma sniffs. “I wonder when she gets a break.”

Kuroo’s too distracted by the round of beers that’s delivered to his table to think deeply about his best friend’s apprehension. When he stumbles through the front door that night, he finds you crouched over the coffee table, frantically typing at your laptop. As expected, the girls are in bed, there’s nothing out of place.

“All good?” he asks you in passing, his mind already filing the tasks on his plate for tomorrow - organising a publicity event jointly held by the JVA and Bouncing Ball Corporation to introduce new national team members, reviewing the proposed budget for this year’s international competitions, popping by the under-19 team to see if there are indeed any promising candidates - he’s already one foot in the bedroom, ready to call it a night.

He doesn’t notice the violets blooming under your eyes.

“Mm.” You don’t look up. “Have a good night.”

Kruoo Tetsuro thinks he’s doing alright.

Bokuto Kotaro, for some reason, doesn’t think so. “Mitsuki said you’re lucky you’re not married to her cos she’ll skin you alive”, he informs him, as if Kuroo shares his love for women capable of chomping his head off in one bite.

Maybe the Bokutos operate on a different metric - because yes, they’re the model of egalitarianism with Mitsuki the high powered general counsel for Kenma’s Bouncing Ball Corporation (based on his referral, he likes to add, cos’ it’s funny to watch Mitsuki growl) and Kotaro the part time coach, full time stay at home dad to his wolfpack of sons, but that doesn’t mean his marriage is on the rocks.

As a child, he was the unwitting witness to his parents’ fights, which culminated in his mother walking out of the door, his father crying over a thick stack of divorce papers. His grandparents took him in, gave him stability and love and comfort but he swore to himself he’s never going to put his daughters through that.

Sure, it’s been a while since you’ve had a night to yourself. The last time he remembers you taking time away from the girls was to go out for dinner with him to celebrate his latest promotion - his conscience stings a little that he can’t remember the last time you’ve taken a break from everything you’ve been doing for him and the girls, but he’ll make it up to you once he has time. You always understand.

Still, just to be sure, he checks in on you again.

“You alright?”, he reaches for your hand, when he climbs into bed that night.

You’re lying in bed. He should find it odd that you’re still awake at this time of the night, staring up at the ceiling as if there’s something to be found there, but he falls asleep in the slow seconds, doesn't hear your response. When he wakes, you’ve already taken the girls to school. He gets himself ready for work, loops his tie around his neck, grabs his briefcase and the bento you’ve so lovingly packed for him, and hops on the train. He runs through his routine like clockwork, but there’s a niggling feeling that he’s missed something important, possibly something to do with you.

Did you say something to him last night?

It doesn’t matter. He makes a mental note to purchase a spa day for you - but that’s promptly forgotten when he’s greeted by a flood of emails and an invitation from his boss to go out for drinks that night.

Kuroo still thinks he’s doing alright.

“You’re lucky”, his boss toasts him. “Your wife doesn’t complain like mine when I go out drinking, even though I tell her I need to do it for work.”

“She’s an angel”, Kuroo replies, quietly bursting with pride. “Never complains.”

“Lucky man”, his boss says. “My wife is such a nag.”

He misses the last train home that night, drops you a text not to wait up and stumbles around Shibuya trying to find a cab. It must be a busy night because by the time he manages to flag down one, it’s three a.m. and his head is pounding from the excess of alcohol and lack of solid food and water. He fumbles with his keys, almost falls through his front door when the lock gives way. “Tadaima”, he says out of habit, too-loudly, before his stomach lurches and he has to make a mad dash for the kitchen sink.

“Tetsuro?”

He wants to respond, but he’s too busy emptying out the contents of his stomach. He shouldn’t have woken you up. He shouldn’t greet you with a mess for you to clean up. He shouldn’t lean so heavily on you that you stagger beneath his weight.

He shouldn’t do all of that yet he does so anyway. You tuck him, a grown man, into bed.

Tomorrow, he’ll apologise. Tomorrow, he’ll make it up to you.

Tomorrow comes. He wakes up.

You’re gone.

Kuroo Tetsuro is not alright.

He’s ashamed to admit that he doesn’t even notice you’ve taken off until it’s way past lunch when your mother drops him a text to ask if he’s picking up the girls or if he intends to leave them with her overnight.

“What d’you mean?” he texts her, confused.

His heart stops when your mother responds to say you dropped off the girls at her place without much of an explanation, an overnight bag slung over your shoulder. You don’t pick up your phones, his calls going straight to voicemail. For the first time in forever, he sheepishly asks his boss for urgent leave from work so he can rush home to figure out what’s going on.

You always take your laptop with you, but it’s sitting at home. He knows it’s an invasion of privacy, but he types in your password (his birthday), and your web browser reveals a booking for a ryokan in Hakone, where the both of you honeymooned almost a decade ago. It’s an hour away by train, far too much time for him to sit and stew in his thoughts. He wonders if you’ve become sick of your life with him, whether you’ve found someone new, and by the time he’s reached the ryokan and charmed the receptionist to let him into your room, he’s teetering on the edge of giving into his frustration, entertaining thoughts about yelling at you for being so goddamned irresponsible, cos how could you just walk out on him and the girls -

Until you walk in, thankfully alone.

It strikes him that it’s the most refreshed he’s seen you look in a very, very long time. Your cheeks are glowing, your eyes sparkle, and there’s a spring in your step that he hasn’t seen since you’ve had the girls.

Still, he can’t help but remain a little peeved. “I’ve been calling you all afternoon”, he informs you. “I was worried.”

He immediately regrets his words as he watches the light die in your eyes.

“Were you?”, you ask, as if you were addressing a stranger. “Really?”

“Of course”, he frowns, slowly getting up to approach you, concerned when you start to sway. “You’re my wife and the mother of our girls, of course I care.”

Laughter spills from your lips, an undercurrent of bitterness and contempt that’s threatening to drag you under before his very eyes. “If you really cared, you’d have noticed that your wife is broken”, you tell him between gasps, your shoulders caving in. “I tried fixing myself with a break, but you can’t even give me that.”

He’s starting to realise that things aren’t alright at all. You flinch when he takes a step towards you, an action which stabs him clean through his heart because he’s your husband, your Tetsuro, your person. Tea, then, a neutral offering that manages to calm you down enough to take a seat, even if you’re still shaking, falling to pieces while laughing, laughing -

“Tell me what’s wrong”, he begs. “Tell me what I can do to fix you.”

You take a sip of tea. It’s hot enough to burn you, but you don’t seem to notice.

“I can’t do this anymore, Tetsuro.”

“Don’t say that”, he snaps, his inner child recoiling because he can’t bear to have his girls go through what he went through, wondering if it was his fault, his very existence that caused his parents to split up. “The girls and I need you -”

You don’t seem to hear him.

“Princess”, he falls back on his pet name for you, rusty from lack of use. “Come back to me.”

You’re unmoved, your eyes unseeing, deaf to his pleas. Sip after sip, you gulp down scalding tea, each action jerky, mechanical. Frozen, in an impenetrable placidness that he can’t read. You’re sitting right in front of him but you’re not really there at all.

“Let’s talk when you’re back home”, he finally says. “Have a good break.”

The immature little boy that still lives in his psyche is still unconvinced that it’s a bad idea to drag you back home with him posthaste, but you asked for a break, and it’s the least he can give to you.

You allow him to roll out your futon for you, to swaddle you in layers of blankets as if that would keep you from falling apart any further. As he kisses your forehead to bid you goodnight and goodbye, he feels the brittleness of your bones, the thinness of your skin beneath his palms and he spends the hour-long train ride home wondering how he managed to look away long enough for you to turn into a shadow of your past self.

He goes straight to your mother’s house to retrieve the girls. As penance, he stands at the front door, head bowed, letting your mother yell at him in front of the neighbours for being a useless husband and an irresponsible father. After all, he deserves every word she flings in his face. He’s just thankful that she doesn’t ream him out in front of the girls.

“Where’s mama?” Fumiko mumbles half asleep into his neck. “Want mama.”

He cradles her closer. “She’ll be home tomorrow”, he tells her, hoping with every fibre of his being that that does not turn out to be a lie. Aiko, older and wiser, just stays quiet, so he forces a smile on his face for her sake.

Kuroo Tetsuro is far from okay.

The strain of the day wears on him and he’s sure there are burning emails in his inbox for him to firefight, but there’s a long list of chores to be done in your absence. The girls’ school bags need to be packed (in the case of five year old Fumiko) or checked (for ten year old Aiko), their uniforms to be laid out, the laundry sorted and folded. He barely gets any sleep before he has to hop out of bed to throw together a cold breakfast of milk and cereal that makes Fumiko burst into tears and Aiko’s face droops. By the time he shuffles his two cranky children out of the house and into their respective schools, he’s late for work.

He meets Bokuto and Kenma for lunch since there’s no lunch bento waiting for him in the fridge, though he regrets the decision to leave the refuge of his work desk for the boardroom of Bouncing Ball Corporation when Mitsuki joins them and, sharp-eyed as ever, sinks her talons into him.

“You look like shit”, she says to him as a greeting.

“Thanks”, he grounds out. The girls demanded he work their hair into the neat braids they insisted you always do, so bedhead would have to do for him today.

“I’ve never seen you without hair gel before”, Bokuto marvels. “You look weird.”

“I had a crap morning, okay”, he snaps, biting the head off the karaage fish in his store bought bento, which he resents for tasting worse than those you usually make for him. “So I’m sorry if I look slightly less than presentable -”

“You look like a man whose wife just left him - “

Mitsuki’s just stepped right on the wound he’s tried to keep hidden, festering and bleeding beneath his skin, so like an animal lashing out when it’s hurt, Kuroo slaps the table with both palms and snarls.

“Don’t - don’t fucking say that, okay? She’s just taking a break. She’ll come home.”

He can’t stand to see the shock and pity on his closest friends’ faces. “She’s coming home today”, he repeats softly, almost to himself, as if he’s little Fumiko in need of reassurance that the person she needs most in the world hasn’t just abandoned her. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Perhaps it’s the maturity that comes with fatherhood, because Bokuto is the first to react. “That’s right, you’re gonna be okay”, he soothes, pulling Kuroo into his seat. “Kenma’s gonna call your boss and tell him that you’re gonna spend the rest of the afternoon here to plan some event - “

“Sponsorship for the Under-19 team, done”, Kenma snaps his phone shut.

“Guys, I’m fine - ”

“Pretending everything’s okay isn’t going to help.”

Kuroo deflates. “Thanks, Kenma.”

Shelving his worthless pride to lay bare the situation he’s found himself in, that by neglecting his duties as a husband and father, he’s forced you to the brink of a mental breakdown, bad enough that you’ve left him - temporarily, he hopes. In the span of a few hours, he’s already found himself at his wit’s end, struggling to handle both the demands of the kids and his job, something that he realises he’s left you to bear, alone.

“But I can’t figure out why she didn’t just tell me she was feeling overwhelmed”, he says, pulling at a fraying thread in his shirt. “I would’ve listened. I would’ve done better.”

“She shouldn’t have to tell you to do your part”, Mitsuki waves away Bokuto’s desperate gesture for her not to kick a man when he’s already down.

“But I didn’t know -”

“Y’know, I really can’t stand men like you. You guys are amazing at work, able to anticipate your bosses’ and clients’ needs. At this point, you don’t even need to be told by your bosses to jump, you don’t even ask your clients ‘how high’ - yet, for some reason, you manage to turn off your brain the minute you walk in through the front door at home.”

“Maybe I should ask her for a list of things I can help her with -”

Bokuto claps his hand over Mitsuki’s mouth. “Ehhh..you might not wanna finish your sentence or Mitsuki might really bite your head off.”

Kuroo winces, snapping his mouth shut.

“Maybe you can think of it in a different way”, Bokuto says. “Instead of ‘helping’ her - cos that’s just placing the mental burden on her - at least, I think that’s the term Mitsuki-chan used when she explained it to me -” the affronted lawyer nods begrudgingly, and beaming, he continues - “you gotta do your half of the work!”

“Level up”, Kenma provides, rather unhelpfully.

“Open your eyes and use your brain”, Mitsuki says bluntly, rolling her eyes, though her tone is less sharp.

“Where do I start?” Kuroo asks.

Step one.

He picks the girls up from his mother in law’s place, bears with the lecture that’s awaiting him, and sheepishly asks them what their mama usually feeds them for dinner and breakfast, making a mental note of it. Tonight, he’ll cheat by feeding them gyudon at Sukiya, but he drops by the supermarket to procure the ingredients he needs for tomorrow’s breakfast and a bouquet of pink roses, even though he knows it’s probably too little, too late. He counts himself lucky that Fumiko loves bathtime, only needing supervision to wash and dry her hair, and Aiko’s responsible enough to work through her homework without prompting, but he’s still exhausted by the time they both head to bed.

His job doesn’t end there. Running through the checklist Mitsuki begrudgingly allowed Bokuto to give him, he surveys the apartment, comparing it against the mental image of how everything was before you left it. Toys scattered, to be put back in place. Dust on floor, to be vacuumed up. A heap of laundry in the basket, to be hung, dried, ironed.

Just as he finishes all these tasks, the front door swing opens.

“Tadaima”, you call out, voice hushed.

He nearly trips over his feet in his haste to relieve you of your luggage, usher you into a seat by the kitchen counter. “Okaerie”, he breathes,

“The girls?” you ask.

He’ll buy Bokuto lunch next time. “I picked them up from your mom”, he responds. “Don’t wake them up, I just put them to bed.”

You peek into their rooms nonetheless. “Thanks”, you say, heading next to the fridge. “By the way, I’ll pay you back for the hotel room from my own money, don’t worry.”

That’s the last thing on his mind. Besides, his sin is being a neglectful husband, not a miser. “It’s fine, I’ll cover it”, he scratches his head, embarrassed that you’re even bringing it up. “I should’ve realised you needed a break.”

That makes you frown, but you accept anyway. He watches you stack bread, eggs, ham, cheese, and it strikes him that you’re already worrying about the girls’ breakfast when you look as if you haven’t even had your own dinner.

“You haven’t had dinner?” he asks.

You reply carelessly that you’ve had a bento on the train back. You don’t even bother to look at him.

“I’ll take the girls in the mornings from now”, he tells you. “Sleep in and take a break.”

That gets your attention.

“Really?”

He plasters a confident smirk on his face to reassure you that he’s got it all in hand.

“Oh”, you’re adorable when you’re confused, but he hates that he’s given you reason to doubt him. “Wake me up if you need my help?”

“I won’t”, he promises.

It’s time for him to level up.

Step two.

He’s not going to lie to himself that he finds it difficult to do even half of what you used to do. Taking over the responsibility of wrangling the girls out of bed and into school, coming home early enough for dinner with you, that requires him to have hard conversations with his boss about not being able to go out for drinks or come in early anymore which probably hurts his chances for his next promotion, forces him to give up an hour or two of sleep, but it’s worth it if it allows you to heal.

“Don’t expect a gold star for your efforts”, Mitsuki warned him. “It’s just what you should’ve been doing before, so it’s time for you to go above and beyond.”

He takes her words to heart. You deserve to go to work well-rested, to wind down at night with a hot bath. He’ll buy a robot vacuum and pour over its manual that’s thicker than a textbook, do laundry loads while hopping on and off conference calls, wrestle the iron to press down his own shirts.

You seem baffled by the sudden shift in the winds, but he just pretends everything is normal. Business as usual. Things are just as they should’ve been.

In his next push to right his wrongs, he organises a Saturday dinner date with you. The girls are packed off with your mother, he makes the reservation, books the cab, compliments your dress. He asks you about your work (tiring), your boss (a micro-manager), the books you’ve read recently (nada, zilch). In the uphill battle to keep the conversation from being stilted, he makes a fatal mistake.

“We can make it work if you want to quit your job and stay home full time with the children.”

In his mind, that was a reasonable suggestion to make since you seem to hate your job and boss with a fiery passion. But you stare at him wide-eyed, your initial confusion hardening into anger.

“Did the guys at work tell you it’s easier to have a housewife instead of a working wife? Are you saying this because you don’t think I’m a good enough mother to our girls?”

You don’t give him a chance to backpedal, shooting a sarcastic apology for being selfish enough to refuse to be reliant on him, so he just slumps back in his chair in defeat.

“I just want you to be happy”, he murmurs. “Forget I ever said that.”

Step three.

To figure out step three, he schedules an emergency lunch meeting on Monday. The troops convene in Kenma’s boardroom to listen to his sorry tale with Mitsuki in charge of the post–battle analysis.

“And remind me again, where did you two meet?”

His face lights up at the memory of his first meeting with you. “Finance 102”, he replies. “We used to be academic rivals turned teammates after I convinced her I was smart enough for her to work with on projects.”

“What made you fall in love with her?”

“As much as I hate it, I have to admit she’s probably smarter than me”, he says, though the fond smile that creeps onto his face betrays the fact that he loves that about you. “She’s just - her, she’s headstrong and funny. Did I tell you how she tried to stab me with her fork when I stole food off her plate -”

“Only a million times”, Kenma interjects.

“She’s always been independent and ambitious, with big dreams and an even bigger heart.”

“Well”, Mitsuki says, adopting the mildest tone she’s used on him this month. “Does that sound like a woman who’d choose to stay home and depend on her husband? Not that there’s anything wrong with being a stay-at-home parent - Koutaro makes my career possible, and I’m the luckiest woman in the world to have him as my husband.”

“Babyyyyy.” Bokuto bawls, looking at MItsuki as if she hangs the moon in the sky.

Gross. Kenma seems to agree. “Let’s get back to Kuroo’s failing marriage”,

“So I shouldn’t bring up the suggestion that she quit her job again?”

His three person council shake their heads in unison. “Just keep what you’re doing”, Bokuto pipes up. “Sounds like you’re already doing the right things! Just gotta keep making sure she’s not holding up the sky herself.”

He can do that.

“And maybe talk to her?”, Kenma offers.

That’s the suggestion that he wants to dismiss right off the bat because he’s too much of a coward to even face the possibility that you might leave him. He doesn’t want to become his dad so he resolves to keep his head down and continue pushing ahead with his efforts to prove to you that he can be the husband you deserve, so you won’t wake up one day and decide to walk out on him again.

But his subconscious fears force his nightmares into overdrive. Dreams of packed bags and stacks of divorce papers makes him yelp loud enough for you to roll over and shake him awake. He’s a terrible husband for disturbing your sleep, but in his sleep-dazed state of confusion he just sinks back into the pillow, exhaling a sigh of relief.

“Thank the gods you haven’t left.”

“Why would I leave?”, you mumble, turning away again. “It’s my home, isn’t it.”

He sits up, rubs the nightmares away from his eyes. “I was afraid you left me.”

The silence nearly suffocates him. The sudden need to know exactly where you stand eats away at him and he crawls towards you. “Are you going to leave me”, he asks, praying to all the gods in the universe that you’ll reassure him otherwise.

His heart breaks anew when he hears a small sob, buried in the bedclothes. “I don’t know, Tetsuro”, you finally say. “I’m tired of being alone in a marriage when it’s supposed to be us working together.”

“I’m sorry.” There’s nothing much he can say.

A broken whisper. “I’m tired”, you exhale. “I think I deserve better.”

“I’ll make it better”, he promises.

He will. He will.

Kuroo Tetsuro is trying his best.

He takes a cooking class on the weekends to learn how to prepare bento boxes that are nutritious and easy on the wallet. He takes over the ferrying of Fumiko to her swimming lessons, work on Aiko’s art projects with her. He hires a part time cleaner to pick up the deep cleaning, so you and he have time to take the girls out on weekend outings instead of spending all day on a week’s worth of cumulated chores. A dishwasher appears in the house. He makes it a game for he and the girls to load and unload dishware each night.

“There’s a networking wine night for finance next Wednesday”, he tells you casually. “I’ll make sure to be home so you can go, if you want.”

You goggle at him.

“Go schmooze so the world knows you’re as amazing as I know you are.”

You trust him enough to leave the girls behind in his care and go. He counts that as a win.

Some nights he still can’t get home in time for dinner, but he always makes sure he’s home in time for a bedtime story and a goodnight kiss. Aiko avers that at the grand old age of ten, she doesn’t need her papa to tuck her to bed anymore, but she sidles into Fumiko’s room everynight and sits in the corner of her little sister’s bed as the littler girl listens to his tall tales.

“I met a princess when I was eighteen”, he says with a grin when he notices you listening in. “Instead of a crown, she armed herself with a fork, ready to cut down anyone who’d cross her.”

His heart skips a beat when he hears your voice from the doorway. “Don’t be dramatic”, you interrupt, a small smile growing on your face. “You were trying to steal my food and didn’t stop ‘til I stabbed you.”

Fumiko huffs, unhappy that her story’s being interrupted, but he can’t seem to tear his gaze away from you. “You left it on the table, princess. I consider that fair game.”

“Let ‘to-san tell the story, ka’san.” Aiko grumbles.

He savours your laughter. It tastes better than the finest wine.

“I can’t believe I have to fly all the way to Italy just to meet Kageyama-kun”, he huffs. “At least Hinata is meeting us there, I’ll revolt if I had to go up to Brazil as well.”

“You know it can’t be helped”, you reply. “The promotional activities planned need your presence, and it’s only for a week.”

“Will you be okay when I’m gone?”

His fears melt away when you hand him his suitcase, a flask of his favourite tea. “I’ve always managed fine. Nothing’s changed.”

His little monsters, realising that he’s about to leave, decide to launch a synchronised attack on him. Aiko throws herself at him in a bear hug. Fumiko yanks at his sleeve demanding a thousand kisses.

“Yes, well. I’ll be home soon. Please wait for me” he says to you when the girls finally release him. The expression on your face is unreadable, but you don’t pull away when he takes the liberty of taking your hand in his.

He feels your heartbeat accelerates. You glance up at him, almost shy. “I’ll see you soon.”

He’s so tempted to call his boss and pretend that he’s too ill to get on that damned flight, but he’s pretty sure that would get him fired. Instead, he calls you and the girls every day, and brings home a luggage full of presents for all of you.

When he’s home, he celebrates by putting on the frilliest pink apron he’s ever seen (courtesy of Yaku, who sent it to him all the way from Moscow as a joke) and throwing an elaborate takoyaki party, replete with customised toppings - octopus, cheese and shrimp, which the girls enjoyed even if he burnt the first batch and had to call Fukunaga frantically for tips to rescue the rest. It turns out to be such a success that he makes it a weekly event. Okonomiyaki is next, which he flips with expert confidence on a hot plate to the applause of you and the girls.

“Itadakimasu”, you clap your hands together. “It tastes good.”

He nearly melts into his pan. “Thank you”, he replies. “It means a lot, coming from you.”

His nights are still plagued by nightmares.

Things are better with you, he likes to think. The violets beneath your eyes are replaced by roses in your cheeks. He hears you humming about the house again. You pick up reading again, the shelves in the house start to groan under the weight of books belonging to the girls and you. You’re as eager as the girls to go on the next adventure, whether it be a summer night out in the park with sparklers, or a nerf gun battle at home on rainy days.

Still, he doesn’t know for sure what he’s doing is enough for you and he’s too much of a coward to check. So he’ll wake up almost every night, fumble in the dark just to make sure you’re there.

You’re there, until you aren’t.

It’s three in the morning. The space beside him is cold and empty.

He throws off the blankets, trips on his bed slippers. He crashes through into the living room and oh, there you are - sitting at the dining table, typing furiously at your laptop while mouthing off to yourself about the ridiculous demands your client makes.

“What’s wrong?” you frown.

He walks towards you, trying to discern that you’re real, you’re there, not some trick of the light..

“You’re - you’re still here.”

You nod slowly, eyeing him strangely. “My boss called and asked me to send out an urgent email. I was just about to go back to bed.”

He exhales, tries to force his trembling heart back into his chest. He thinks he’s doing a good job trying to act nonchalant, smoothing back his frazzled mane of hair, but you see right through him as you always do.

“Tetsuro”, you say slowly. “Is everything alright?

The truth tumbles out of his mouth. “I thought you were gone.”

Then he hangs his head, looks at his feet, afraid that he’ll only see rejection in your eyes. He’s a pathetic failure of a husband who has a decade’s worth of sins to make up for, and there’s no justification for him to selfishly to seek your absolution.

It comes anyway, in the form of soft hands pulling him forward.

“I’m here”, you say, pulling him into your embrace, letting him rest his heavy head in your lap.

He doesn’t allow himself to sink into your warmth. “Are you happier now? Are things better for you?”

“Yes”, he hears you say. The tension he’s been carrying around these few months lifts. “Thank you, Tetsuro. I appreciate it. I really do. You don’t have to work yourself to death - that’s never what I was asking for. If you’re tired -”

He shakes his head at your suggestion. He’s got a long way yet before he earns any reprieve.

“Tetsuro -”

He sits up abruptly, takes your hands in his.

“Promise you won’t leave me”, he pleads. “I know you’ve had to carry what must’ve felt like the weight of the entire world on your own, and I don’t have any excuse for that.”

“You don’t”, you agree.

He accepts the blow but he takes comfort that you don’t pull away. “I know that now. I know now how fucking hard it was to do it all alone.”

“It was hard. It was so, so hard, Tetsuro. I became numb to the pain. I don’t think I was functioning, I haven’t been for a while. For a long, long while.”

“I’m sorry”, his voice cracks.

“I know.” You cup his face in your hands, offers him comfort he doesn’t deserve. “That’s a chapter of our marriage that’s past, that can’t be unwritten. But the past few months have been different. You’ve shown me that you’ve changed.”

The first glimmer of sunlight after a long, dark winter. Hope blooms with your smile.

“I think”, you say. “I think we can make this work again.”

He stares at you, dumbstruck. Then the fact that you’re giving him another chance dawns upon him, and he crashes forward to rest his head on your shoulder, unashamed to cry tears of relief.

“Thank you”, he exhales brokenly. “I won’t fuck this up again, I promise.”

You press a kiss to his forehead, curl up trustingly in his arms. “Don’t thank me”, you laugh. “Thank yourself for making me believe in you.”

He drinks up each drop of your affection, falls asleep in the cradle of your arms.

“Is this what flirting is like?”

He wakes up to Aiko’s impertinent question, her hands on hips looking distinctly unimpressed at finding her parents asleep on the sofa, entwined together.

“Who taught you that word?” Kuroo asks, aghast that his ten year old daughter even recognises the existence of the opposite gender.

Aiko sticks her tongue at him, and he’s too distracted by Fumiko taking a flying leap onto the sofa with them, chattering a thousand miles an hour about what’s for breakfast and whether they can go to the zoo this afternoon - though he pins his suspicions on Bokuto’s trio of sons.

“Monsters”, he says. “Can’t even give your to-san a break to snuggle up to your pretty ka’san.”

The girls shriek in dismay - Aiko, at being a witness to further gross displays of affection between her parents, Fumiko, at being called a monster despite being a self-proclaimed princess. You prod at the soft flesh between his ribs.

“Don’t be mean”, you admonish him.

He sniffs, taking the chance to draw you closer. “I’m cranky in the mornings unless I get a morning kiss.”

You snort, swatting at him. “You make it sound as if kisses contain caffeine.”

The girls giggle, but he protests.

“Full of nonsense”, you tease, but you kiss him, again and again and again.

Things settle into a steady, sustainable pace.

You refuse to allow him to bear the weight of the household on his back alone. There are frank conversations to be had about what each of you can realistically handle without burning out. He leads the charge in the mornings, whipping up breakfast with the aid of his two sous chefs, building an expertise in braiding and french twists that could possibly allow him to moonlight as a hairstylist. You, on the other hand, take charge of evening pick-ups, cooking dinners, supervising homework and art projects until he comes home and tags you out.

Chores are evenly split. He doesn’t allow you to assume the mental load of organising the household by yourself. “We both have a degree in business management”, he likes to remind you, because he now knows that remembering to run errands, scheduling appointments - all of this is work too.

You force him to take breaks. If you get to relax with your friends, so should he. “If you get too stressed, you’ll lose your hair and we can’t have that.” He yelps when he imagines himself bald and obediently complies when you call Kenma up, talk him into getting him and Bokuto and Akaashi (when he’s feeling less morose about his singlehood) to go for a round of pick up volleyball. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself”, you note wryly when he returns home crowing about how he stuffed an Olympic player with a kill block.

“I did”, he replies, catching your hips to pull you in, cheekily ignoring your complaints that he’s sweaty. “But I enjoy coming home to you even more.”

“Gross”, you grumble, but you seem content to remain in his arms.

It’s another small moment he treasures. Life, he learns, is made of moments, both big and small. He’d made the mistake of only focusing on the big ones - graduation, playing at nationals, the day he was lucky enough to marry you, each of his daughter’s birthdays. Now, though, he cherishes each moment, each second he has with you and the girls, no matter how little, no matter how small.

He likes to come into the bathroom each night, leaning his elbow on the edge of the bathtub as you chat to him about your day, luxuriating in the bath he drew for you. You and he take turns to complain about life’s inconveniences as you clear emails once the girls have gone off to bed- colleagues who shirk their work, bosses who nitpick overmuch, washing everything down with steaming cups of herbal tea.

“Are you happy?”, he asks you, night after night.

“Mm”, you say with an impish grin. “I’d be happier if you let me put my toes on your calves.”

“They’re freezing”, he groans but scoots over anyway. “Better?”

“Much better”, you hum, content. “Life is good.”

He’s not remiss in planning the big moments too.

A year passes quickly to your wedding anniversary. He packs your suitcase, books the train tickets and whisks you back to the ryokan in Hakone, though this time he upgrades you both to their largest suite. “I feel like a princess!” you exclaim, twirling about the room.

Your happiness is worth every yen he spent.

You spend the day strolling down avenues lined with cherry blossoms, Mount Fuji looming in the backdrop, the evening exchanging heated kisses in the private onsen he booked. You’re older now, with laughter lines creased into your forehead, grey streaks in your hair, but you’re still the same girl he fell in love with all those years ago.

“And you couldn’t wait ‘til we got back to our room?” you smack him.

He also loves how there’s fire burning bright in your eyes, the way it always used to. “You kissed me first!”

“You kissed me second!”

“I don’t hear you complaining”, he cackles.

You try to shush him, to no avail, as he draws the attention of everyone around him.

“What a happy couple”, an obaa-san remarks out loud. “They must be newlyweds.”

Well, she’s not wrong. You’re as radiant as you were fifteen years ago, his spring bride, but he’s an old man doddering on, hopefully with his edges sanded off with time. “Just your regular old, married couple”, he chortles when you’re safely back in the room.

“A happily married couple”, you reply, serenely sipping your tea. “That obaa-san definitely got that part right.”

There’s a lump in his throat that he can’t swallow. “Are you happy?” he manages to ask anyway.

“With you?” Your smile is warm, bright. Always.”

Both of you are doing alright.

a/n: it's been a while, hasn't it. i've been alright - how are you guys doing?

#kuroo x you #kuroo x reader #kuroo testuro #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff

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flowersadida · 3 months

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I know people have already talked about this topic, but I want to too.

There are a lot of jokes on the Internet about how Katara constantly mentions her mother as if it were the most important event, but...

Isn't that so? I mean, in the life of a little eight-year-old girl, this is truly the most important event in her life and she wants to share it.

Katara took on the role of an adult too early, and she didn't have the opportunity to work through this problem with anyone, because she's already an adult => she cannot afford to rely on someone. But she needs it, and that's what traveling with Aang gives her: the opportunity to find children like her and share with them the burden that she has been carrying all this time. Note that Haru, Jet, and even Zuko are people who not only have experienced loss, but also have some kind of responsibility for others: for their family or even for a group of people. She doesn't tell adults about this because she isn't looking for care, she's looking for understanding of her feelings.

The problem is that it's not enough for her. Her sadness turns to rage because the further the story goes, the less satisfied Katara becomes.

The closer the heroes get to the end of the war, the more angry Katara gets: first at her father, then more specifically at Zuko. And, in the end, she finds the cause of this anger, as well as the opportunity to satisfy the thirst for understanding of her grief - the murderer of her mother. She needed revenge not just because it was fair, but because from the very beginning of the series, Katara was looking for an opportunity to calm those feelings that were rushing out. And her attempts to do this by expressing the problem were not enough. She needed more, and she got it by facing the biggest monster in her life.

In general, the “monster” metaphor obviously speaks not only about Yon Ra, but also about Katara herself. Or rather about her anger. Judge for yourself: she had to restrain a storm of emotions from the age of eight; she began to reveal her grief only in the first season, that is, at the age of 14. She ignored her pain, pushing it deep inside until it became a raging monster rushing out. And what Katara really needed was to face it. So when she flies to find Yon Ra, she also finally meets the version of herself that she has carefully ignored and hidden for the benefit of others.

It's funny that Zuko is the one who helps her. In general, it was his complete understanding of Katara in this matter that amazed me. He, like no one else, knows what it’s like to face your inner demons and knows how useful it is for knowing yourself. And how dangerous it is when you're alone in it. So he accompanies her to keep her safe. So that she has a person on her side who will be there, no matter what choice she makes. He will support anyone. (I'm crying because of how beautiful it is wasgffv💖)

(A small antikataang insert: this is the reason why their relationship doesn't work. Aang only supports the right decisions, even if they require Katara to sacrifice inner harmony, while Zuko will simply support her for whatever choice she makes. It's funny because Aang has to keep balance and as a monk he knows a lot about that. The show focuses heavily on the theme of yin and yang, that is, the balance of good and evil. In order to achieve internal balance, Katara needed to turn to internal evil, because she tilted this scale towards good. She was imbalanced to begin with, and instead of understanding this, Aang insisted on continuing the preponderance of good. It’s as if he doesn’t understand that the preponderance of good is as bad as the preponderance of evil, and this will only harm Katara. I hope my point is clear)

Finally, Katara finds inner peace when she faced everything that was raging inside her, when she did what she needed and poured out everything she ever wanted. Every word about her mother led us to this moment, as did Katara herself.

And do you know what the point is? Why am I telling all this? It's all a character arc that unfolds linearly over three seasons.

Now think back to the arc of Aang, the main character of the show, in relation to his family. Did he bring them up in seasons two and three in a way that was linear? I mean, the one who constantly grieves over his father's death should have been Aang, because he learned the pain of loss so recently, he didn't have a chance to get used to it. But even in the episode SR, Aang compares the loss of mother not to the loss of his mentor and father, but to the loss of Appa and his people. It’s as if he doesn’t care about the individual connection with Gyatso and it’s nominal.

Katara, on the other hand, has emotions that she smoothly carries throughout the show and resolves in it. She has a huge number of Chekhov's guns, which each fire at its own time. Her feelings about her mother, the development of these emotions and their resolution are the most beautiful thing about this show along with Zuko's arc (even though I have problems with him in book 3).

And making derogatory jokes about it like Katara is whining and annoying is blasphemy. After all, she's the only one of the Gaang who has a single development arc throughout all three seasons, this must be respected

#atla #atla critical #avatar the last airbender #atla meta #anti kataang #anti aang #katara #zuko #zutara #katara supremacy #katara is the real main character change my mind #katara deserved better #katara meta #southern raiders

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acriminalmind · 6 months

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Songs From the Wood

Forest Dweller Wanda Maximoff x GN Reader

Summary: For years tourists who enter the mysterious woods around the town you grew up in are never to be seen again. What happened to them remains a mystery.

After years you return to the place you rather forget if it wasn’t for your parents still living there.

A party thrown by your former classmates ends up with you fighting for your life and getting a new one you can’t return from.

Warnings: ⚠️ 18+, minors DNI, dark themes, shitty and immature people, consequences of alcohol, spiked drink, use of weapons like knives, swords, and axes, very graphic images (blood, horrible injuries, torture, violent and gruesome deaths), use of strong language, allusions to cannibalism, kidnapping (taking someone without their permission), manipulation (kinda gaslighting), Stockholm Syndrome (rational thinking has gone out the window), smut (later in the story) (mention of penetration, but not specified with what), human sacrifices, loyalty tests, marriage, fluff, angst, some deja vu moments, slighty dark Wanda at times.

Please don’t report. You’ve been warned

AN: Sorry for the long wait. My new job takes me a lot of time and energy. I hope to find time to write during my vacations and weekends. I’m not out of ideas yet.

AN: In this story, Wanda is the 20-year-old sister of Pietro, who is a 10-year-old boy.

Word count: 14213 (Damn)

Enjoy! And let me know what you think.

On a warm summer evening, you received an invitation to a party organized by some former high school classmates. Initially, you had not planned on going because your high school days were not the most fun period in your life and you certainly would not be mourning never having to see your former classmates, who pretended you were invisible most of the time and only talked to you when they needed something from you, ever again. You had left the village where you had grown up shortly after the last day of high school. A university on the other side of the country had offered you a scholarship, which of course you had accepted. Five years later, you had graduated with flying colors and had been offered a well-paying job at the company where you had been an intern for the last two years of your education.

Despite having no reason or desire to go to a party so far from what you now considered home you still replied that you would attend. Your parents still live in that village and you hadn't visited them in too long, so you would visit them before you went to the party. You opened your digital calendar and put in the date of the party. Fortunately, you had just gotten a raise so the plane ticket was easily paid for. You had even granted yourself a seat in first class.

Turning off your phone you put it face down on your desk and refocused on what you were doing, writing a smutty fanfic about your favorite female heroine.

"She dropped to her knees and took their hard member in her hands. In her small hands, their cock seemed even bigger than it already was. Opening her mouth she leaned forward and took..."

Two weeks had passed and you were about to leave for the airport. A suitcase and backpack stood neatly packed next to you on the pavement as you locked your front door. You had asked your neighbor to watch your house during the time you were gone, which would not be more than 3 days if everything went right. The cab you had ordered pulled up into the driveway. After the driver had helped you with your luggage the both of you took your seats and drove off. The ride took no longer than half an hour due to the lack of traffic. After you paid the driver and tipped, you walked into the large building in front of you. The check-in went as it always did. You were happy to finally get on the plane and be seated. Next to you sat an older man who had fallen asleep not soon after takeoff. After it was announced that passengers could unbuckle their seat belts you grabbed your laptop from your bag and started working on an assignment for work. The hours flew by, no pun intended.

Once off the plane you stretched and walked to the waiting area where your parents were already waiting for you with welcoming smiles on their faces. You gave them both a big hug before your father grabbed your stuff from you and started walking with them to the car even though you told him he didn't have to do that for you and that you could do it yourself, but he was stubborn and ignored you. Your mother talked to you during the car ride about what was happening in the village. Pretty little happened in the small community where almost everyone knew each other. Except for one thing. Over the past few years, several people went missing in the woods surrounding the village and were never found. Those who went missing were mostly tourists who had probably wandered off the marked hiking trails, but it was still strange and slightly worrisome. It also wasn’t good for business as word about the woods spread fast and as a consequence, the village was being avoided by many tourists who would normally fill up the streets and spend a good amount of money in the local shops. Quite an amount of shops had to close their doors due to a lack of customers and lack of income. The shopping district was now filled with lots of empty buildings holding a gloomy atmosphere.

Your mother mentioned that someone had been reported missing again, but it was a villager this time. She mentioned the name and you recognized it immediately. It was the name of a former classmate of yours from high school. Apparently, someone had dared him to go into the woods and go off the path to see if the stories were true and that there was indeed a monster in the woods that kidnaps and eats anyone who goes off the path. It was funny until he hadn't returned after an hour and he didn't answer his cell phone either. Authorities were called in to search, but all they found was a large pool of blood with his phone lying in it. To this day, he has not been found adding another name to the growing list of missing people who fell victim to the woods.

The date of his disappearance was a week before you got the invitation to the party. You thought it was odd that they were throwing a party right now when a fellow villager was missing, but your mother said they were already planning the party before the man went missing and his parents insisted that the party should just be held as planned.

When you arrived at your parent’s house, you made sure to get your luggage out of the car before your father could. You followed your mother to the front door which she unlocked to let you in. Everything looked exactly the same as the last time you visited your parents. The house was spacious but still gave off a cozy feeling. Several pictures of you and your parents hung on the walls. It was like a timeline of your life. It puts a small smile on your face. Your mother told you to take your things to the guest room, which was your old bedroom, while she would prepare dinner. As confirmation that you had heard her, you nodded to her before walking upstairs. The second room on the right side of the hall was yours. It had its own mini bathroom and walk-in closet. You put your things in the corner of the room and plopped down on the bed to rest your eyes for a while.

Stepping out of your father's car you had borrowed to drive to the party you could already hear the loud music and people singing along from the parking lot. The party was fully going. Calmly you walked toward the entrance, breathing in the fresh air one last time before entering the smelly and crowded space. You made your way towards the bar where you ordered a diet coke, not wanting to get too drunk this early in the evening, especially while being surrounded by people you hadn't seen for years and wouldn’t fully trust with your well-being if you were drunk.

Looking around you, you took in the different faces of the people dancing on the dancefloor. You recognized most of them, they were just a bit more mature since you last saw them, but looking more mature didn't stop them from acting immature as you saw a group of men, who were part of the football team back in the day, act like monkeys on speed. Rolling your eyes at the sight you moved your eyesight to a couple of young women standing in the corner giggling about something. The blonde woman standing in the middle of the group took your breath away. It was your secret school crush and she looked even more beautiful than you remembered. The ring on her finger stopped you from approaching, not that you knew what you would have said to her if you would have. You didn't want to embarrass yourself more than you had already done in school.

For a while, you sat in silence sipping on your drink at the bar, watching the people around you like you also did as a teenager when you sat alone at lunch. When you were done with the one coke you had ordered that night you headed towards the exit, wanting to call it a night, but on your way, you were pulled onto the dancefloor by an unknown woman who started to dance around you. "Danzz with meeee!" she yelled barely hearable due to the loud music. Her slurred words and strong smell told you that she was highly intoxicated, but like the decent person you are you started awkwardly dancing with her. You didn't want anyone with bad intentions to get their hands on her as long as she was under the influence of alcohol and could be easily manipulated into doing regrettable things. After what felt like an hour of dancing with the woman you felt yourself getting tired. The woman had in the meantime sobered up a little and had found the people she came with. She gave you a quick peck on your cheek and thanked you for keeping her company after apologizing for bothering you in her drunken state. The action made you blush. This didn't go unnoticed as a small group of people made their way to you while cheering at you and making kissing sounds. One of the broad men threw his arm over your shoulder while ruffling your hair with his free hand. "Look at our favorite nerd getting some action!" Laughter filled your ears. One of the others yelled that it was probably the furthest you've ever gotten with a girl. The people now surrounding you were all people who had made your life in school unnecessarily difficult and less enjoyable. You awkwardly laughed at the stupid jokes that were being made about you in the hope that soon they would get bored of themselves and would leave you alone so you could leave this place as fast as you could to never see anyone of them again.

Half an hour later you were still at the party you had badly wanted to leave a while ago, but the strong arm on your shoulder and your shyness preventing you from speaking up had made you stay where you were. One of the women pushed a drink into your hand after you had declined the offer, guess no isn't an answer she takes. The jokes about you had stopped and the topic of conversation had changed to the missing people cases that held a tight grip on the local community. One of the women, who you remembered to be the daughter of the sheriff told about what she had heard from a whispered conversation between her father and the mayor that she had eavesdropped on four days ago. Apparently, investigators had found evidence that points to a new-found theory of mystery people inhabiting the woods. Silently sipping on your drink you listened to the woman and all the things she had heard. Even though the whole matter wasn't of interest to you, the thought of possibly dangerous people living in the woods close to your parent's house, made you more than uncomfortable. The thought of convincing your parents to temporarily live with you while searching for a new place for them far away from where they lived now crossed your mind. You were pulled out of your thoughts by someone patting your shoulder to get your attention. "Come on, let's see for ourselves," you heard someone say. You wanted to pull yourself away from the group who were now walking you to the back exit leading to the mysterious woods, but you failed. It felt like you had lost control over your body. Looking down at the empty red cup in your hand you cursed to yourself. You hadn't even noticed you had drunk the whole thing. The girl who gave it to you held your hand, pulling you with her toward the edge where the trees met the main road. You wanted to say no, but no sound came out of your mouth. Before you could register it you had been pulled into the darkness, the only sound you could hear was the drunken laughter of the people around you and the breaking of the twigs underneath your stumbling feet. While you were pulled further into the woods, even getting off the designated hiking trails, multiple pairs of eyes were watching your every move from behind the trees waiting to strike.

At hearing a weird sound behind you you turned your head to see where it came from. You could have sworn you saw a silhouette standing next to one of the many trees surrounding you, but before you could get a closer look the girl still holding your hand pulled your attention to her. She pulled you into a deep and unwanted kiss. After she had ended the kiss she complimented you for how good of a kisser you were, saying she hadn't expected that from you. Before you could react to her insulting expectation she had passed out on the floor from the combination of alcohol, drugs, and tiredness with you following her not close behind.

The woods became now completely silent.

You woke up when the first rays of the sun showed through the trees. Your head was pounding as a result of last night's activities. Looking around you noticed that you were the only one there. There was no sign of anybody else. Those fuckers had abandoned you in the middle of god knows where. Curse words left your mouth as you tried to stand up from the cold ground while having to deal with a major hangover. Once on your feet, you took another look around hoping to spot an indication as to where in the woods you were exactly, but as far as you could see you only saw trees and bushes. Looking at the place of the sun in the greyish-colored sky you decided to head east where the sun had come up some time ago. It was cold and damp and the thin shirt you had on did nothing to keep you warm. Hugging yourself you tried to keep the little body warmth you had left with you. Every time you exhaled a cloud of fog left your mouth. Without you realizing it you had started to chatter your teeth.

After what felt like hours of walking you collapsed to the ground. Your feet were dying beneath you as you weren't used to walking for so long and underneath these conditions. Leaning against a huge tree you tried to catch your breath and talk yourself into getting up again and continuing walking. You didn't even know whether you were going in the right direction, but you couldn't just stay in one place with these cold temperatures and not knowing whether someone was looking for you. Just now you realized how far you were dragged into the woods. The night before it had felt like just a few meters.

When you had found the strength you needed to get back up you took a deep breath and continued your journey toward your hopeful escape from the dense woods and to not be another name on the missing persons list who fell victim to it.

Every step you set hurts. It felt like your feet were about to fall off any second now. The frightening thought of never being able to see your parents again and leaving them in uncertainty about your well-being made you pull through.

To distract yourself from the pain you were in and keep up the spirit you started silently singing one of your favorite songs.

"Never gonna give you up. Never gonna let you down. Never gonna run around and desert you ..."

As you started to sing the song you were singing for the past half an hour for the ninth time you were disrupted by a high-pitched scream coming not far away from you. Holding your breath while standing deadly still, you looked around searching for the source of the scream while wondering if it came from someone who needed your help and in exchange could help you or if it came from someone who you should run from. Out of nowhere one of the guys who were with you last night came storming out of the bushes on the right of you while screaming for his life. He was covered in blood and you were sure that you saw the bone of his right arm sticking out.

You stared wide-eyed at the panicked man en wondered what had happened to him to put him in a state like he was. Another noise coming from the bushes grabbed your attention. As fast as you could you dove behind a tree to hide from whatever was gonna come out of it. Carefully you peeked your head around the edge to see what was gonna happen next. Not even five seconds after you had taken your hiding spot behind the tree two big figures with deer fur as clothes and animal skulls covering their faces appeared from the bushes. They both had a handmade axe in their hand which was dripping with blood. One of them let out some sort of battle cry before the both of them sprinted behind the wounded man. You watched fearfully as they rapidly reduced the distance between themselves and their prey. One of the figures threw his axe toward the man which ended up drilled in between his shoulder blades and throwing him face first on the ground. He let out cries of pain while trying to crawl away, but his suffering came to an abrupt end when the other figure who still had his axe harshly brought it down into his skull splitting it open and ending his life. Blood and brain tissue was splattered around the lifeless body. You slapped your hand over your mouth to prevent any sound from coming out and ducked back behind the wood. You wanted to scream, but you couldn't do that because they would hear you. You wanted to run, but you couldn't do that because they would come after you and do god knows what to you.

Never in your life had you felt this kind of fear.

You sat quiet and motionless behind the tree in the hope the two figures wouldn't see or hear you and would soon walk away so you could make a run for it. The only thing you could hear was the sound of flesh being cut. It was horrific and made your stomach turn.

When you thought it couldn't get any worse a man and a woman who you recognized as people from the group you were with last night appeared to the left of you, both of them also covered in blood. The man held a little silver-haired boy who looked to be around the age of 10 in his arms while keeping a dull knife to his throat. While the two hadn't noticed your presence, the boy did and he looked you right in the eyes with his tear-filled ones. His small body was trembling in fear. You noticed that just like the two large creatures he was wearing deer fur. He is probably part of the same group as them. He sniffled as a lonely tear dripped down his cheek. Suddenly the man who held the boy hostage started to scream at the two people to not move or else he would kill the kid. Your eyes widened at hearing that threat. The knife was pushed closer against his skin, now drawing blood. Cries of pain and fear left his mouth. The devastating sound pulled on your heartstrings. You wanted to help the boy. You couldn't leave him to his own devices even if the chances of you getting hurt in the process of saving him were high. The girl wasn't an obstacle as she was standing on the other side of the man watching it all go down with fear in her eyes. When the two people started to scream back in some unknown language the man pulled his knife away from the boy's neck, pointing it in front of him in defense. This was your chance. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself down a little you got into a running position before sprinting from behind your hiding place toward the boy.

A red-headed woman was watching it all unfold from behind a tree. No one had noticed her presence yet and she wished it to stay that way.

It felt like everything went into slow motion the moment you had a grip on his arm. Your unexpected appearance surprised the man holding him captive, resulting in him losing the tight grip he had on the boy. This gave you the chance to pull him away and motion for him to make a run for it. He looked at you with a grateful look before running off as fast as he could on his short legs. As you watched him run with a satisfied smile on your face you felt a sharp pain pierce through your skin. Looking at your waist you saw a knife being pulled out of it. The same knife that was against the boy's neck just a minute ago. Blood started to sipe through your shirt. While grabbing at the wound you looked with a panicked look behind you, locking eyes on the man who just brutally stabbed you. He looked down at the in your blood-covered knife in his trembling hand and then looked back at you. His eyes held a gaze of confusion but it soon turned into anger. “You fucking asshole,” he whispered angrily. As you fell to the ground you could hear the young boy scream in anguish. Your eyes became heavy as more blood started to gush out of your body. As you stared up into the sky waiting for the inevitable the man and woman who had captured the boy were being slaughtered at your feet by the forest people. Their screams didn't reach your ears as they could only focus on the slow beats of your own heart. Before your eyes closed you were met with a pair of beautiful emerald-colored eyes that held a soft gaze in them as they looked down at you.

Every morning before sunrise Wanda would take a walk through the woods surrounding her home. On bare feet, she wandered through the area she had come to know like the back of her hand. Her hands gracefully moved through the high grass, like birds in the sky. She would close her eyes to take in the sounds of nature better. It was like the woods sang a song just for her. It brought a smile to her face.

When she arrived at the heart of the woods she was met with a sight she hadn't seen before. A group of strangers lay sleeping on the ground. She remembered her father's warning words about strangers and that she was not to be near them by herself, but curiosity got the best of her, so she hid behind a tree at a safe distance from the group and observed the scene with curious eyes.

Before the sun started to come up all but one started to stir awake. Instead of waking them up, they whispered something to each other before running off laughing, but what they didn't know was that they were heading to a place where strangers from the outside world weren't wanted and would probably be their demise.

When the group had left her sight she averted it back to the lone stranger who was still sleeping peacefully. She wanted to take a closer look, but she stopped herself from doing so instead she stayed safely hidden behind the big tree and kept watching the stranger making sure nothing bad happened to them. Wanda always had a caring nature, always wanting to make sure the people in her community were okay. However, the person laying on the ground wasn't someone from her community. She didn’t know them. They were a stranger. Someone her father warned her about numerous times, telling her they were bad people who destroyed good things for selfish reasons and had no respect for nature, something that is very important for her people. She had seen the damage these strangers left behind with her own eyes. Still, she didn't want to leave this one all alone. She always tended to see the good in people and the person who was left behind hadn't given her any reason yet to think otherwise, unlike the people who had left them behind showing the rotten side of humanity.

As the sun started to appear from behind the trees she saw that the person started to stir awake. She watched every move they made. From them looking with utter confusion around them after waking up all alone in the middle of the woods, to them standing up while muttering unfamiliar words. As Wanda took in their appearance now that she was able to see them better from where she was standing she felt a fluttering feeling in her stomach. They were good-looking. The clothes they were wearing were strange though. Not practical for a life in the woods at all. She couldn't admire them long though as the stranger started to make their departure.

When the stranger had left she decided to head back home herself before her father would start worrying about her and sent out a search team. She also didn't want to make her little brother wait as she had agreed to spend some time with him. The last time she had made him wait he decided to go look for her all by himself in the big and treacherous forest, ending up with a gash on his knee from falling down a rocky path. And with these strangers wandering around she didn't want him to leave home by himself. Who knows what they would do to him if they got their hands on him? The single thought of something happening to him frightened her. She would never forgive herself.

Wanda held her little brother tight against her body, afraid that if she let go something bad would happen to him. Tears streamed down her face, dripping on top of Pietro's little head. She had watched the whole scene go down, from the moment those two evil outsiders grabbed her brother, who was innocently wandering around the woods while picking flowers, till the moment that the lone stranger she had been watching that morning saved him and as a result got stabbed themselves.

She felt Pietro calm down in her arms, which made her calm down a little too. He is alive and safe in her arms. She looked up and saw how her brother's captors were slaughtered by two of her father's hunting men. They screamed in agony as their bodies were mutilated until their lives had left their bodies. She had watched with zero remorse. Her sight was soon pulled to the lone stranger's motionless body that lay in a small pool of their blood. The person that saved her little brother from their people. She felt warm and grateful. When the hunters moved away from the two piles of flesh and made their way toward the unconscious stranger with their axes in their hands, ready to butcher them too, Wanda abruptly ordered them to a halt. As the daughter of their leader, she had some kind of power. They halted their movements, lowered their weapons, and looked at her through their masks, waiting for their next orders. Wanda looked down at her brother who was now looking up at her with his big friendly eyes which both still held some unshed tears, then returned her sight back to the lone stranger. She thought it over for a second before looking up at the hunters and saying in their language, "Strangers from outside the woods are not welcome in our home because of their evil natures and disrespectful behavior towards our woods, but I believe this one is different. I witnessed early this morning how the people who were with them mercilessly abandoned them in the middle of these dangerous woods. We just saw how they saved Pietro, son of Django Maximoff our celebrated leader, and my father, from their own kind and in return got stabbed. They need help, which our healers can give. We owe that to them." The two hunters grumbled something while shaking their heads. "Don't worry about my father. This is my decision. All consequences are on me. I give you my word." The two hunters looked at each other before nodding at Wanda. One of them ripped off a piece of their fur clothing and used it to tie off your open wound before he carefully pulled you off the cold ground and started walking in the direction of their home, followed directly by the other hunter, Wanda, and Pietro.

Upon their arrival at the gates of the hidden village, one of the gatekeepers blew on a horn to announce their return before letting them in. They were greeted by Django, his wife Marya, his right-hand man Erik and a handful of guards. Pietro ran like a speedster to his mother who brought him in a loving hug. Wanda made her way over to her father who was already waiting for her with open arms. She almost forgot about what happened just a while ago until she hears her father say, "Who's the stranger you brought with you?" Wanda pulled away from the hug to look her father in the eyes before she would answer him. "You know how I think about outsiders, Wanda. What is one of them doing in our home?" Wanda took a deep breath before she calmly tried to explain the situation to her father and those around them who were also listening. "This morning when I was on my morning walk and arrived at the open spot in the middle of our woods I walked upon a group of them sleeping on the ground." She noticed her father's eyes widen and mouth open ready to tell her once again that she isn't allowed to come near outsiders alone, but before he could Wanda continued, "Don't worry, Dad. I stayed at a safe distance and blended in with nature so they wouldn't notice me. Like you taught me as a kid." Her dad smiled a little at the memories of him and his daughter spending time in the woods while he taught her the ways of nature and how to take good care of it. "I watched them for a while until all of the group but one woke up. They then left, leaving the one still asleep all alone in the middle of the woods. Sometime later they woke up looking confused, scared, and angry. Not long after they had left I decided to walk back home. I had promised Pietro to spend some time with him and I didn't want him to wander alone through the woods with outsiders lurking around..." Wanda stopped to take a breath, knowing what she was about to say next would upset her parents. "Next thing I knew I heard Pietro scream. I ran as fast as I could towards the direction it came from. When I arrived I saw how two of the outsiders I saw that morning held Pietro hostage while holding a knife to his throat. They were yelling at two of your hunters. I was so afraid they were gonna hurt Pietro, but out of nowhere the lone stranger who got left behind sprinted from behind a tree and rescued Pietro. They got stabbed after. I know our rules and how our people think about outsiders, but I think this one is different. They at least deserve to be helped by our healer as a thank-you for saving Pietro. My little brother. Your son and successor." It became quiet. For a few minutes, no one said a word. Django stared at his daughter with an unknown look. He then looked to Pietro, who was still being held by his mother. "Is it true, little warrior? Did the lone stranger save you from those barbarians from the outside world?" Pietro nodded his head. One of the two hunters then spoke up and confirmed the part about the lone stranger saving Pietro. Django walked up to the hunter who still held your motionless body in his arms. He looked at your face, then at your wound, which was in high need of treatment. He looked back at his wife who nodded at him, he then looked to his daughter who was already looking at him with hopeful eyes. "If we treat them we can't just let them go back to the outside world. They will know too much about our civilization. It will bring our community at risk. I can't let that happen, Princess." Wanda understood her father's reasoning. The outsiders had hurt her community more than enough. One of her uncles fell victim to them. He died three years ago in a one-sided fight he got into with a group of outsiders he came across at the edge of the woods when he was taking an evening walk. Her father was never the same after finding his brother's beaten and lifeless body. Later he found out that a member of their community, who secretly had started seeing an outsider, had told her about the village in the woods. Her brother and his friends went to the woods that fatal night to look for these so-called forest people and bumped into Clint, her uncle. He refused to lead them to the village and ended up choking in his own blood after a severe beating. The villager who had given up their secret existence had been sentenced to death a day later after they had tracked him down. Wanda could still recall like it was yesterday how he begged for mercy as he was about to be beheaded by her father. The sound of his sword cutting through his neck had given her the chills. His head was after that placed on a stake outside the gates as a warning, so no one would ever make the same mistake as him. In the years after that, the people of the woods secluded themselves even more from the outside world. No trips to the edge of the woods were made again.

"They won't tell anyone about us, Dad," Wanda says confidentially. "Not when we keep them here." Django looks at his daughter with confusion, "What do you mean by keeping them here? You mean like a prisoner in the caves or that we keep their body here after ending their life?" Wanda shakes her head at that. "No. I mean that they become one of us. It may take some time for them to adjust to their new home, but I will personally guide them into accepting their new life if you give them the chance. It happened before, remember? We've accepted an outsider before and that went positively. I know that was a long time ago and it happened before that horrendous evening, but I have fate this lone stranger will be a good addition to our community." Django shakes his head with a sigh, but before he can speak up one of his most trusted huntingmen steps forward, Buchanan, who was the former outsider Wanda spoke of. He was now happily married to his wife Natalie and has two beautiful children, a boy and a girl. Ten years ago he had ended up lost in the woods after his car broke down on the road that went through it. Due to no service on his phone, he started walking, hoping to find a nearby gas station of some kind of civilization that could help him fix his car. He ended up walking further into the woods. After seven days of wandering around the woods without food or drinkable water, he passed out. Django and two of his men had found him on a hunting trip. They brought him back to their home and the rest was history. "With all due respect, sir. I stand with your daughter, Wanda, on this matter. I understand your worries about the possible consequences and dangers it could bring us and our loved ones" he said while looking back at his wife Natalie, "but not every outsider is like those who ended your brother's life. I am an example of that. The lone stranger can also be an example. In my eyes, they have already proven they are different by saving your son's life while risking their own. I volunteer to help them, together with Wanda, with adjusting themselves to their new life. If you agree at letting them stay, of course." "I volunteer too, sir," Natalie says while stepping forward to stand next to her husband. Wanda smiled at hearing her best friends supporting her. Marya then steps forward and places a hand on her husband's shoulders. He looks at her. She doesn't even have to say anything for him to know what she thinks. He thinks everything through before giving her a small smile while nodding his head. He turns back to look at his daughter with his mind made up. “Okay”, He says. “I will give them a month to adjust. If by then they have, they can stay with us. If not...” He doesn’t need to finish his sentence for Wanda to know what will happen then. She nods her head in acceptance. “Thank you, Father.”

Django orders the man who is still holding you in his arms to bring you to the healer so she can patch you up. Wanda follows them together with Natalie and Buchanan.

You are placed on a wooden bed with animal fur covering it. The village healer, Stephany Strange, walks towards you with a serious face. She tells Wanda, Natalie, and Buchanan to step back and give her space to do what she does best. She removes all the clothing that is covering your knife wound and starts her treatment.

After thoroughly cleaning your wound she grabs a jar from the shelf behind her. The content of it she smears on your irritated wound. You flinch in your unconscious state, but soon your body relaxes as the cream is doing its magic. Wanda watches everything with careful eyes. Stephany mumbles some ancient spells while moving her hands in patterns above your wound. When she's done she wipes the remnants of the cream off of your waist and as if a miracle just happened the wound had magically disappeared. The only indicator of you ever being stabbed there was a decent-sized scar where the knife had been.

Stephany looks up at Wanda and says, "They're healed and should wake up within the day. Make sure they rest well and drink enough water," before turning around and elegantly walking out of the room. Wanda takes a seat next to the bed. She inspects the scar and amazes herself with the healer's work. No one knows how she does it. Every time someone asks her about it they get a different answer. According to rumors, Stephany Strange is an ancient sorceress with great magical power. Whether it's true, no one knows. Whoever she is, she is well respected and beloved in the village. From the moment she arrived at the gates casually asking for a place to shelter from the rain all those years ago, she made herself useful in the community. Before her arrival, many villagers had severe health problems, causing a lot of them to die. Stephany changed that. Instead of staying only temporarily until the storm had passed she never left and became their official healer.

Wanda looked outside the window at the darkening sky. Nighttime had come. The full moon was placed in the middle of the darkness, surrounded by thousands of stars. Her mind went to her father's words. If you hadn't accepted your new life by the next full moon, you would end up as a sacrificial meal. She grabbed one of your hands in her own. She barely knew you, but she felt a certain way about you. Maybe it was because you saved her little brother. Maybe it was because you had a certain aura around you. An aura different from the other outsiders she came across from. Natalie placed a reassuring hand on top of Wanda's shoulder, knowing exactly how she felt. She had felt the exact same way when she first laid eyes on Buchanan. She was gonna support her friend in every way possible like she did with her.

While unconscious, you were haunted by terrible nightmares. You were running for your life through the dark woods while clutching your stomach trying to keep your intestines from falling out. How you were able to keep on your feet in this state was beyond you. You could faintly hear the rushed footsteps of your attackers running after you. They were screaming in an unknown language. It sounded like battle cries. You did not dare look back or reduce speed. This was a life and death situation and you weren't gonna die because you were tired of running or were curious as to how far those savages were. You were not gonna end up like one of those dumb characters in a horror movie, even though it felt like you were in one yourself. In the state you were in you didn't notice the branch sticking out of the ground until your tripped over it and fell face-first on the harsh ground. You grunted in pain as your whole body was shaking. Your vision became more blurred as you desperately tried to crawl forward with the tiny bit of energy you had still left due to adrenaline rushing through your body. You didn't get far. When two big hands grabbed you by your shoulders you knew that this meant your demise. You were roughly turned onto your back. Three large creatures stood bowed over you. They had animal skulls covering their faces and wore animal fur as clothes. You wanted to scream, but no sound came out of your mouth. One of them suddenly moved their hands to your stomach and pulled your intestines out you had desperately tried to keep inside. The other two then raised their axes and started slashing into you. At first, you were in the most horrendous pain you could imagine until you didn't feel anything anymore. You stared at the birds flying in the sky above you as your body shook with each slash. The sound of flesh being cut and breaking bones didn’t reach your ears anymore. Soon your eyes closed.

Suddenly you jolt awake. Your breathing was irregular and your body was covered in sweat. You felt two soft hands on each side of your face and heard an unfamiliar but soothing voice say something. It took you a while to calm down and get out of your disorientated state. It was only when you were calm you fully registered the other person in the room. It was a beautiful-looking woman with long wavy red hair and emerald eyes you could drown in if you looked into them for too long. They looked familiar as if you had looked into them before, you just couldn't remember when. Her thumbs were brushing in circles over your cheeks, calming you down even more. Both of you looked at each other for some time in comfortable silence until it dawned upon you that you had no idea who this woman sitting in front of you was. Then you remembered what had happened in the woods. You pushed the woman's hands off of your face and jumped up from the bed. You grabbed an unknown object and held it in front of you as a defense weapon while you backed up until you hit what you think is a wall. The woman calmly stood up and walked in your direction while saying something in a language you don't recognize. Suddenly two other people burst through the door. The woman in front of you looked at them while speaking to them with the same calm voice as she did with you, only they seemed to understand what she was saying. At that moment while the woman with red hair was too distracted by her conversation you made an unfortunate decision as panic had taken over your mindset. You grabbed her and pulled her into a headlock while you started yelling at the two people who just entered for answers. "Who are you? Where am I, What are you going to do to me?" If you had paid better attention to your surroundings you could have noticed that the ‘wall’ you had backed yourself against wasn't a wall, but a door. Before you could register the person standing behind you, you were hit on the back of your head with a blunt object. The force made you lose your grip on the woman as you fell to the floor in a hazy state. You didn't register what happened to you after that until you regained your clearness again in a poorly lit cell.

After an unknown amount of time had passed the door to your cell opened, showing an unfamiliar woman with short red hair. She held something in her hands, but due to the darkness, you couldn't make up what it was. She stepped closer to you until she was in the middle of the room. Crouching down she placed the object on the ground. It was an earthenware bowl with fresh fruits in it. The bowl contained strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, apples, and pears. You hesitantly looked at the bowl, you were hungry but too afraid and unsure to make any sudden, unwanted moves that could lead you to be punished or brutally killed. You had seen with your own eyes what these people were capable of. The woman's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. She pointed at the food and then toward you. She didn't sound angry or dangerous. Carefully you moved towards the bowl. Picking it up with your hands you studied the colorful fruits before bringing them piece for piece to your mouth. It was delicious. They were sweet and juicy. With each piece, you let out a moan from delight. This was far better than the fruit you bought at the grocery store. While you were busy eating, the woman standing in front of you was watching you, studying you. She didn't see anything dangerous in you. She saw the fear in your eyes when she walked in. Fear can do a lot to people. You woke up in a strange place with a stranger after witnessing something traumatic. At least, for you. Natalie had witnessed multiple deaths in her life and even though it still did something to her, it wasn't traumatizing to her. Your fear drove you to the stupid action that led you to be put into the cell you were in. She understood that. It reminded her of Buchanan. He did something similar in the first week here. With her right hand, she touched the small scar on the side of her neck where Buchanan had held a knife to. They had come so far. A small smile plastered her face. When you were finished with eating you placed the bowl back on the floor close by the woman's feet and slid back towards the wall. The woman grabbed the bowl and walked back towards the door. The whole time it had been wide open while calling your name. You could have tried to escape through it, but you didn't. Progress. Natalie thought. It was small and to some meaningless, but to her and most definitely to Wanda, it wasn't. She closed the door behind her and made her way to Wanda's cabin, who was already anticipatingly waiting for her to give her an update about you.

Soon the second morning of your stay in the woods dawns. While you're still secured in your cell, your parents were seated at their kitchen table with the sheriff seated across from them. Your mother could barely hold it together as your father worriedly told the sheriff about you not coming home after the party. It got even worse when the sheriff told them you weren't the only one who was reported missing. He told them that partygoers had seen you and a few others walking towards the woods. While your father was trying to console your mother he asked the sheriff if they had found any trace of you and the others. The sheriff nodded and placed your phone on the table. The screen was broken and there was something that looked like blood on one of the corners. The only thing the sheriff could bring out was "I'm so sorry. We will try everything in our power to bring them back home..." If we ever find them... He doesn't say that last part out loud, but with all the people who went missing without as much of a trace, he fears the worst. His thoughts go to his daughter who was also part of the group that was seen walking to those damn woods. He prayed to god that his daughter was okay, not knowing the horrid ending she had gotten. Her body lay almost unrecognizable in one of the death traps the people from the woods had places to keep outsiders far away from their home. Her screams of pain still echoed through the air as a crow was picking flesh from her split open head.

The early sunlight shining on your face woke you up. The door to your cell stood wide open. With care in your movements, you stood up and walked towards the light. As you walked out of the darkness from your cell you moved your hand up to block the bright sunlight from shining in your eyes and blinding you. When you were adjusted to it you looked around, taking in your surroundings. No one seemed to pay attention to you. Maybe this was your chance to escape from wherever you were. Taking another look around you to make sure the coast was clear, you started to walk in the direction of a seemingly unguarded piece of the high wall surrounding the village, not aware of the watchful pair of eyes that lay upon you. At the wall, you placed your hands on the wooden beams looking for any weak spots you could take advantage of, but you found none. Looking up you calculated whether climbing over it was an option. Before you could make a decision a firm hand was placed on your shoulder. Your eyes widened and you were sure this was the moment you were gonna die. Slowly turning around you stood face to face with a scary-looking man with brown hair that was tied in a bun and had only one arm on his body. He looked at you with an unknown look in his eyes. Suddenly he threw his arm over your shoulder and walked you towards a large cabin in the middle of the village. When you entered you were met with a room full of people who were eating and talking together. The man led you towards a table with a small group of people sitting around it in the middle of the room. Both the woman who you tried to hold hostage the other day and who gave you food last night were seated there. There was also a man and a woman who looked like to be around your parent’s age seated at the end of the table. The silver-haired boy was also there, seated next to two red-headed children who seemed to be enjoying some sort of meat. The man who still had his arm thrown over your shoulder pushed you down on a chair next to the emerald-eyed woman before taking a seat himself next to the other redhead. He kisses her on her cheek before he grabs some food off his plate and starts to eat it. You look down at the plate filled with food in front of you. Your stomach was rumbling as it was begging to be filled with food. Everyone around you was already enjoying their breakfast while moaning at the apparently delicious taste. You hesitantly reached for the reddish-looking meat before bringing it to your mouth. Taking a small bite you chew on it a couple of times, enjoying the taste of it. It wasn’t something you had eaten before as you didn’t recognize the flavor high-jacking your taste buds. The structure of the meat was a little tougher than you were used to, but it wasn’t bad. Before you knew it you had finished your breakfast and so had everyone around you. You see people clean up their things before walking out of the room to start their day. You feel a hand on your shoulder. It was the emerald-eyed woman. She looked down at you with a sweet smile and motioned for you to stand up and come with her. You could feel the stares of the others linger on you as you stood up from the table and walked after the woman. You did not know where she was taking you but you were not in a position to question things as it could cost you your life. If you wanted to live, you were obligated to live by their rules, even though you didn’t know them yet. Maybe if you showed them you meant no harm, they would let you go. It sounded like a good plan but you knew, in the back of your mind, that you were probably never gonna be let go and that this place was where you were gonna spend the rest of your life, but for now you ignored that thought. You ended up at the cabin where your stay in this village started. The woman opened the door for you and you walked in with her following not close behind you. When you heard the door lock behind you you feared the worst.

As you stood with your back to her you felt her hands being placed on your shoulders. You felt yourself tens up and she felt it too. She wanted to comfort you, but she knew that you weren’t there yet. She retracted from you and walked towards a closet in the corner of the room. She grabbed some clean clothes, clothes made of deer fur, and gave them to you. She turned around to give you some privacy. When you’re ready you scrape your throat to get her attention. She turns around and looks at you, taking in your appearance. You look a little bit more like them now. She smiles. You don’t understand why. She holds out her hand for you to take, which you reluctantly do, and pulls you outside.

Fourteen days went by. Every day you were woken up by the scary man and led to breakfast with his strong arm thrown over your shoulder while he hummed a happy tune, which had given you the chills the first half of the week, but by now you were at a point of almost joining him. You would sit next to the emerald-eyed woman, whose name, you learned, is Wanda. Slowly but certainly you started to understand what they were saying. Sometimes you even joined in on the conversation even though it wasn't much. You felt yourself getting comfortable. Your fear of them had lessened but hadn't gone away completely. There was still that small voice in the back of your mind that kept you on your toes. While the urge of wanting to leave this place wasn't as strong, you still were thinking of ways to do so when you were alone at night in your cell before sleep overtook you. Sometimes you feel guilty for still thinking of escaping plans. Most of those times were when Wanda was with you. You didn't want to admit it, but she made you feel a certain way. A feeling you were a little scared of. Her contagious laugh, her soft touch, the need to help others, you being one of them, made you fall more and more for her each day.

It was on the eighteenth day that instead of the scary man, Wanda woke you up. She had this sparkle in her eyes as she looked at you. She walked with a skip in her step to you and crouched down. Her hands were placed on both sides of your face as she smiled at you. "Today me and my friends will take you on a walk outside the wall. My father just gave me the green light." She brought you in a tight hug before standing back up again and walking towards the open door. When she didn't hear you move she looked back and nudged her head for you to follow, "Come on, handsome." You didn't understand the last part but you hurriedly stood up to follow her to the gates where the Buchanan and Natalie, whose names you just learned from Wanda, stood waiting for you both. Wanda's parents and leaders of the community were also there. He hugged his daughter, "Be safe out there, sweetheart. I trust you and your friends to behave yourselves out there and stay inside the safe area." Wanda nodded, "Yes father. And if anything somehow goes wrong, Buchanan is with us to protect us." Django looks at him as he nods in confirmation. He then looks at you. "Don't disappoint my daughter. See this as a test. If you fail..." He doesn't finish his sentence, but you know what he's alluding to and he knows you know by the slight fear in your eyes. He has seen the progress you've made in the past weeks. He has also seen how happy you make his daughter, even though you don't seem to notice it yet. But he knows from experience that some people, under certain circumstances, can do disappointing things. He hopes that you're not one of them. Time will tell. He watches as Wanda takes your hand and leads you through the open gates into the woods with Buchanan and Natalie walking not far behind.

Wanda let's go of your hand to go take a closer look at some beautiful flowers. You watch her as she does so. A small smile is plastered on your face as you watch this goddess of a woman as she gracefully touches nature's decorations. Buchanan and Natalie are watching you while having a whispered conversation. "This sight reminds me of our story, my love," Natalie says as she hugs her husband. "Who do you think will make the first move? Them of Wanda?" Buchanan shrugs his shoulders at his wife's question. "It doesn't matter, doll. What matters is what comes after the first move. Once they discover how the other feels about them not many other things will be on their mind. Like with us. You're my everything, Natalie." He looks down at his wife and brings her in a loving kiss. "I love you." "I love you too."

Soon Wanda returns, taking your hand back in hers again. The four of you walk further while taking in the beauty that is nature that surrounds you. It's quiet, only the sound of leaves rustling in the wind and the chirping of birds that fly in the blue sky can be heard. Now you have a slightly bigger chance of escaping the people who brought you to their home the thought has not come up in your mind once. You enjoy walking with Wanda, Natalie, and even Buchanan. You feel at peace. The stress that had you in its grip back home has let you go. There is no worrying about work deadlines or bills that need to be paid. While you had trouble socializing with the people outside the woods, in the woods, with its inhabitants, it felt so much easier. It didn't feel forced and you didn't feel like throwing up when you had to speak to someone you didn't know yet. The small acts of affection from Wanda, like her holding your hand, felt like something you had craved for all your life without you even knowing. Not once you had experienced the feeling she gave you before. You did have flings before that made you feel something, but that was nothing like this. This felt more intense. Her presence made you feel like butterflies had made your stomach their home. You wanted to express your feelings towards her, but you didn't know how, and even if you did, you didn't know if she felt the same about you. Sure she was affectionate with you, but that didn't mean automatically that she had some sort of romantic feelings for you. You hoped she did though.

It doesn't take long however for your peaceful and slightly romantic walk through the woods to be disturbed. Unknown voices in the distance alert Buchanan as he leads Natalie, Wanda, and you to hide in the bushes. He grabs hold of a large knife that he always carries with him, as he waits for the outsiders to appear. Your eyes widen when you see who they are. Remembering that his daughter was with you the night you entered these woods you looked at the sheriff who, together with a few of his men, was walking from behind some trees with their guns in their hands, ready to fire whoever dared attack them. Suddenly the voice in your head that you hadn't heard in a while and had forgotten about spoke again, telling you that this was your chance to escape. The chance of Buchanan taking out all these armed men was present, but not high. The sheriff knows you and would probably not shoot you. You thought the idea over. If you waited for them to come a little closer Buchanan had less of a chance of grabbing you as he sat furthest away from you. They could help you find your way back to civilization. Back to your loving parents, to your good but stressful job, paying bills that got higher each year, and forced social gatherings. You were pulled from your thoughts by Wanda who hugged your arm tightly as she watched the men with worry and slight fear. She knew that if they were discovered it would probably mean their end. It was at that moment that you made your choice. You squeezed Wanda's hand tightly to reassure her. You weren't gonna leave her. She means too much to you. You love her too much to betray her and her people like this.

Natalie had seen the internal struggle when she looked at you. She could see it from your body language and the look in your eyes when you shifted your gaze from the armed group of outsiders who, from Natalie's perspective, you seemed to know, to Wanda who hugged herself close to your side. She knew you could have made a run for it. You didn't. You had de perfect opportunity and you didn't take it because of her. Wanda. She knew at that moment that you had fallen head over heels for her best friend. Even under the current circumstances, you all were in, a small smile was plastered on Natalie's face.

Luckily for you, the sheriff and his men walked past the bushes you were hiding in and back towards the edge of the woods, far away from the hidden village. When they were out of sight and ear range it felt like all of you could breathe again. Buchanan made sure that the coast was clear before you all got out of the bushes in silence. Wanda hadn't let go of your arm the entire time. You didn't mind.

The four of you decided to walk back home. Natalie and Buchanan are in front with you and Wanda walking close behind. It didn't take long for you to arrive. The gates were opened for you to come in. You thought that Wanda would want to go see her parents after what happened, but instead, she bid her silent goodbyes to Natalie and Buchanan before she made her way to her cabin pulling you with her without saying a word. When the both of you are inside Wanda locks the door so no one can interrupt the both of you. You turn to look at her, wanting to make sure she is okay... "Wanda...I" But before you can say anything else, Wanda steps forward and closes the gap between you. She cups your face in her soft hands as she kisses you with passion. You’re surprised at her action and it takes you a moment to snap out of it. But when you do, you kiss her back with just as much passion.

A whine leaves your mouth as Wanda pulls away from you and takes a step back. The woman in front of you stares at you with desire as she starts undressing. Slowly. It takes everything in you to stay patient and calm and not just rip her clothes off of her body, but you manage. As her dress lowers to the ground you can feel yourself getting aroused at the godly sight of her nude body. Her breasts are perky with hardened rosy nipples calling for your mouth to suck them. Her tighs a canvas for you to place marks on. The forbidden fruit between her legs you can't wait to eat from. While admiring her you start to undress. She watches you with a slightly opened mouth and reddened cheeks. When you're both completely naked she walks backward towards her bed and takes her place on it, not taking her eyes off of you. Her hands move to her breasts to kneed them, something you'd like to do yourself. One of her hands soon moves south. She spreads her legs for you to see her dripping core, where soon two of her fingers disappear in. It's hard for her to not close her eyes at the pleasure, but she wants to watch you. She wants to see the lust in your eyes as you watch her pleasure herself. She wants to see you struggle to prevent yourself from taking action. It turns her on even more. You clench your fists when a loud moan leaves her mouth. When your name escapes her lips you can't stop yourself anymore. You urge towards her and before she can reach her orgasm you pull her fingers out of her, replacing them with your own. Her back arches off the bed as you hit the perfect spot inside her. You take one of her nipples in your mouth and start to suck. Her hand moves to your head to keep you in place. She bucks her hips into your hand, getting close to her orgasm again. A simple plea leaves her mouth, "P-please..." You look up at her. Her mouth hangs slightly ajar as sweat beads cover her head. Her eyes are closed tight shut as she feels herself coming closer and closer to her release as your fingers keep a steady pace. "Look at me, my sweet flower. Look at me while you cum. I want to see how beautiful you look when you do." It isn't easy, but she manages to open them and look you in the eyes. Your beautiful eyes hold love and care in them, but also desire and lust. "Cum for me." You say one more time as you watch the woman beneath you cums undone. You can feel her walls clench around your fingers before her wetness covers them, together with your hand and the sheets underneath her. You help her ride out her high before you carefully retract your fingers to lick them clean. You moan at her delicious taste. She can't help herself from staring at you licking yourself clean from her juices. Before you can start with your hand she sits up and takes a hold of it, bringing it to her own mouth to lick her juices off of it while keeping strong eye contact with you. When you're all clean she brings you into a loving kiss as your tongues battle for dominance, which you eventually get. You push her back onto the bed and start slowly kissing down her body, leaving multiple marks on your way down. You open her legs to make space for you. With her legs placed over your shoulders, you start licking and sucking until she sees stars.

As the days went by you and Wanda grew closer together. She had taught you about her people's way of living and the language they spoke. Each day you became more like one of them, each day you forgot more about your previous life. Django and Marya could see how happy their daughter was with you. They too started to think of you as one of their own. You earned more freedom as you earned their trust. Your favorite occupation was taking long walks with Wanda through the woods while listening to her endless stories. You'd even admit that sometimes her stories wouldn't reach your ears as her beauty was too distracting for you. You loved everything about her. You loved her so much that you couldn't imagine a life without her anymore. Life before her became meaningless to you. Each night you declared your love over and over again to her. Every morning you would tell her you loved her in her language, which had become yours too.

Soon it was the day of the full moon. The judgment day. But everyone knew what the outcome would be as you were now almost fully a forest person. You were one of them. It would be official after the ceremonial party that was being thrown that night. Everyone was gathered outside celebrating their new neighbor with self made beverages and food in their hands. As Django held a speech everyone raised their cups to toast on you. While everyone cheered after Django finished, Wanda pulled you away from the crowd to congratulate you in peace and quiet. Wanda pulled you into a loving kiss as she held both your hands in her own. "I love you so much, Y/n. I'm so proud of you for becoming one of us. Now you and I can be together forever." She said before bringing you into another kiss. Your mind was taken hostage by your love for Wanda. "I love you too, my love. With every fiber of my body. Every thought holds you in it." Without further thought you pick Wanda up and take her to your shared cabin. Placing her on the soft bed with care you undress her while kissing every inch of her skin. When she's fully bare you take one of her rosy nipples in your mouth while you pinch and roll the other in between your fingers. You push your muscled thigh in between her parted legs, making her moan at the sudden pressure against her dripping cunt. She rolls her hips to get more friction. "Baby, I-I need you. I need you down there. P-please." Wanda begs beneath you. "If you want my mouth you need to cum on my thigh first. I know you can do it. Be a good girl and cum for me. Ruin my pants." You move your mouth to her other nipple, making her cry beneath you. She fastens her pace, chasing her high. She needs to cum, she wants you in between her legs so bad. She is so close. You tense your muscles for her. "Oh yes, baby!" She moans as she can feel a wave of pleasure flood over her. Her juices cover your thigh as you help her ride out your orgasm. "Good girl. Such a good girl." You whisper in her ear before you make your way down.

After another terrific orgasm, you decide to give her a break. You lay beside her and bring her into a tight hug. "You did so good for me, love. I'm so proud." Wanda snuggles further against you with a satisfied smile as she throws her arm over your stomach, not wanting you to move. "Thank you, darling. Thank you for loving me and making me feel so good." The two of you lay there in silence for a few minutes, listening to the people partying outside.

"Marry me"

"What?"

"Marry me" You repeat.

Wanda looks up at you and sees the seriousness and love in your eyes. Last night I talked to your parents about me. You. Us. I love you, Wanda. So much. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, but before I ask you if you want the same I asked your parents for permission out of respect. I mean it, Wanda. I've never felt this way. I know we only know each other for about a month, but I've never been so sure about something before. Marry me. Make me the happiest person in the world. I will treat you like the queen you are and make you the happiest woman. I want you to be my wife." You look at her in full expectation. Her eyes start to get watery. For a second you panick and think the worst, until she cups your face and places a gentle kiss on your lips. "Yes, my darling. A 100 times yes. Of course, I want to marry you and become your wife. I want nothing more." You smile at hearing her answer. The both of you stay in bed for another hour before both of you dress and return to your party to share your big news, receiving nothing but positive reactions from your new family and friends.

The next few days were all about planning your and Wanda's wedding. Wanda's mother, Marya assigned herself the task of sewing her daughter the perfect wedding dress and you, her daughter's fiance, the perfect suit. Django and his men made it their mission to build an altar in the middle of the village. Buchanan had gotten the task of collecting everything for the wedding ceremony. To do this he had to go to your parent's house. Together with two others, he left the village two days before your big day, promising Natalia a safe return. Natalia spends her days with Wanda, helping her get ready. Wanda felt nervous. She wanted everything to go right. She couldn't wait for her wedding night which she would spend against your hot sweaty body. She felt herself getting aroused by the thoughts of every sinful thing she wanted to do with you. She knew you loved her with all your being, but she also knew something you didn't. The wedding ceremony contained a sacrifice that was to be made by the one who had asked the question of marriage. You. Her worry of you maybe leaving her left as soon as she looked outside to see you playing some made-up game with her little brother. With a smile, she watched on as the two of you competitively battled for the win. It ended up in you giving the win to Pietro, making him smile with joy. Soon she would be your wife and the two of you would be bonded till death parted you. She wasn't gonna let you ever leave her. She loved you too much to let that happen. You loved her too much to do that anyway.

It was the night of your and Wanda's wedding. You were standing in your earth-colored suit at the altar waiting for your almost wife to walk down the aisle, together with the rest of the forest people. The open field where the wedding was taking place was beautifully decorated with decorations from nature and various small bonfires. The clear night sky was lit up by thousands of stars. It was the perfect night. You made eye contact with Marya, who gave you an approving nod. Behind you stood Buchanan, who became your best friend in the past weeks. On the other side of the altar stood Natalie, who looked at you with a pleased smile. Her best friend was getting married to her husband's new best friend. Life was good. The four of you could go on double dates. She already had so many fun activities in her head you could do together. As you looked around to look at all the people attending your special day, something nagged at you. Something was missing but you couldn't put your finger on it. Before you could think further of it, you spotted Wanda. Wanda who wore a stunning dress matching your suit, was being walked to the altar by her father. Tears threatened to leave your eyes at the sight. A true goddess she was. Soon Wanda stood before you. Her father gave her hand to you. The both of you looked at each other with love until the person who was gonna bond you two spoke up, drawing all attention to them.

When he was done Django spoke up. "Tonight is special to me. My eldest child and only daughter is marrying her forever love, Y/n. A person who comes from the horrid we call the outside world who found their way to us after being abandoned by those whom they once saw as their people. A person we welcomed into our home who eventually made it theirs too. They proved themselves to us and became one of us, something we celebrated in harmony as a community. Tonight I want to welcome them into my family." He said with a cheerful expression, but that soon changed into a serious one. "But before that can happen, Y/n has to perform our traditional wedding ritual to prove their undying love and loyalty towards their future wife, Wanda." You felt Wanda's grip on your hands tighten at his words. Django turned to you, "Will you y/n, accept doing the ritual to prove your undying love and loyalty towards Wanda?" You look at Wanda who nods at you, then back at him. "I will." You say with determination in your voice. Django calls for two of his men to go grab something from the cabin you remember vaguely being held in the first nights of your stay here. They return with two other people who have jute bags covering their heads and rope bound around their wrists. The two unknown people are pushed onto their knees in front of you. You can hear Wanda whisper in your ear as you look down at the strangers, "You will do this for me because you love me. Remember that, baby. Remember how much you love me and how much I love you. After you do this, we can be together forever." She pecks your cheek before she lets go of your hands. In replacement, you feel the handle of a hunting knife being placed in your hand. "Think of me when you finish them. Think of how good I will make you feel after this is over. You've seen what a good girl I can be, but imagine me being your bad girl..." With one last kiss, she nudges you closer toward the kneeled people. Django grabs both jute bags and pulls them off of the people's heads. Seated in front of you, covered in dirt, blood, and bruised were your parents. As they looked up at you you could see some relief, but a lot of fear. As you looked at them all sounds around you faded away. You could see their mouths move as they seemingly pleaded for their lives, but no sound reached your ears. Everyone else looked at you in expectation, waiting for you to immortalize your wedding in blood. Before you can think about all of this too much, you feel Wanda's soft hands on your shoulders. You remember why you needed to do this. You needed to do this for her. For your love. Your happy ending. So without further thought and doubt, you step forward, closing the gap between you and your begging parents and in one swift motion slash both their throats. Blood splatters all over you as it leaves their body. It doesn't take long for two lifeless bodies to drop onto the ground. Everybody starts to cheer you on and celebrate the official making of your and Wanda's wedding. You turn around to face Wanda who smiles at you with love. She lunges forward and kisses you with might, getting blood all over her dress. As the ceremony finishes you take Wanda to your cabin for your wedding night. Seeing you sacrifice your parents for her made Wanda go feral. The door is barely closed when Wanda rips your suit off of your body en pushes you onto the bed. She jumps on top of you and starts to place kisses on your skin, leaving hickeys everywhere. She rips a piece off of her dress and ties your hands to the headboard with it. You can only look at her with pure hunger as she devours you. Teasingly she riddens herself off of her dress, throwing it on the floor. She straddles your thigh as she kneads her breasts, pinching her nipples. while humping your thigh one of her hands moves between your legs. You moan loudly as she slowly pleasures you, building up to your first orgasm. No words are being spoken, only grunts and moans are leaving both your mouths. You can feel her wetness drip down your leg and it makes you reach your orgasm faster. Some crazy boost of strength enters your body as you free yourself with a strong tug from your restraints. Before she can register what you've done you flip her over, onto her stomach, spanking her a few times as she has been a bad girl. Her eyes roll back at the burning feeling of your hand hitting her ass, probably leaving a handprint. You take hold of her hair, making a makeshift ponytail to pull on. You align yourself with her dripping cunt en slowly thrust inside. A deep moan leaves Wanda's mouth at each inch you move further inside her until you're fully inside her. Not giving her a lot of time to adjust you start pounding into her like a wild animal. Wanda's face is being pushed into the pillow beneath her as she drools from pleasure. You don't care about the noises you make. Everyone is allowed to hear how good you fuck Wanda. Your wife. Wanda murmurs something inaudible, but you know what she wants, and you're gonna give it to her. You're gonna give her as much as she wants. "Cum, my queen. Make a mess. Show me how good I make you feel." You pull her up against your chest and move one hand towards her clit. Everything becomes too much for her and soon her dam breaks. Her juices spill from her pleasured pussy. You help her ride out her second orgasm. You pull out and lay onto your back on the bed, helping Wanda straddle your lap again. "I want you to ride me, my queen. Fuck yourself on me." Due to her sensitivity, she slowly sinks down. She places her hands on your chest as she rides you, leaving scratches all over your skin. Her breasts bounce with each roll of her hips and you love it. Your mouth drools at the sight of them. Wanda's eyes close as she feels another orgasm approach. She sits up and moves her hands to play with her breasts again as you place your hands on her hips, guiding her. "Go on, baby. Cum." You sweetly order her. Watching her orgasm is beautiful. The sound she makes while doing it is like music to your ears. Tiredly she drops on top of you. You stroke her hair while she calms down. "Tired baby? Do you need a break?" You ask her. A slightly dark laugh leaves her mouth as she sits back up and wraps one of her hands around your throat, slightly choking you. "Break? Oh, baby. I'm not tired yet and I'm far from done with you. We're just getting started. You're mine now as I am yours and I will keep reminding you of that till death do us part. Now open your mouth and eat my pussy..."

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