#leigh keene

[polkadotjohnson]

Band Shoot Nights #1 & 2

[lululeighsworld]

okay but i know for a faaaaaaaact that gunter would have seen the betrayal coming in this feh update. there ain't no way he wasn't thinking in the back of his head "who wants to tell the order this strategy is pointless (not me)."

[ginnsbaker]

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (5/?)

Part summary: With Leigh, it feels like for every step forward, you end up taking two steps back.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 5.600+ | Warnings Some angst, het stuff | A/N: Texts in italic indicate they happened in the past. We get an insight about R's past with Matt and a little surprise at the end.

Masterlist | Part I Part II | Part III | Part IV | Next part

-

You'd hardly expect to meet a decent guy on the street nowadays.

Though, to be fair, it's less about meeting him and more about running straight into him. At the moment, you don't give it much thought. You distinctly remember wincing from the impact, feeling solid muscle and jutting bones, and a surge of irritation bubbles up inside you because you're not exactly having the best day. But then, the man you ran into looks up, and his face is all apologies. 

He looks like he might cry if you don't forgive him, so you do. As you stand there, trying to process the situation, he notices the coffee spilled all over the floor—your coffee, which has now created a sad, dark puddle around your feet.

“Can I buy you another coffee?”

Despite the kind gesture, you find yourself shaking your head, more keen on changing out of your coffee-stained coat than sticking around any longer.

From a few steps away, his impatient friend calls out, “Are you coming, Matt?”

“Yeah, just wait a sec,” Matt responds, his attention still on you. You usually don’t trust men running into you without an agenda, but there’s something about him that tells you he didn’t mean to, and that he’s more than willing to make up for it.

“No, thanks. I got it…”

He looks unnecessarily worried as he leans in a bit closer. “You sure about that?” he asks. 

His brown eyes are the friendliest pair you’ve seen in a while. And being essentially alone in this new town, they pull you in like gravity.

“Y-Yes. Just watch where you’re going next time,” you stammer, attempting to stabilize your shaky legs.

“Matt!”

Matt nods hesitantly, then mumbles, “Sorry, I have to go. Again, I'm really sorry,” before his gaze releases you, and you feel its force that held you in a vice-like grip easing away. 

As you're walking away, you keep having to tell yourself not to look over your shoulder, even though every part of you kind of wants to.

You guess you must be really lonely, to cling onto the first bit of kindness someone throws your way.

-

Your deliberate attempts to bump into Leigh finally pay off one brisk Friday morning. But it’s not in the way you’ve imagined it would go.

The town is just waking up, the chill in the air biting at your cheeks as you take your routine jog through the quiet streets. You've discovered that running suits you better than yoga, mainly because it's something you can do solo, and you've always leaned towards activities where you can be by yourself. You’re tired, but you try to lift your knees higher with every stride, keeping your cadence in check.

Turning a corner, a sudden commotion catches your attention. A group of rowdy teenagers barrel down the sidewalk, loud and oblivious to anything but their own world. One of them, a bit too caught up in the fun, nearly crashes into you, forcing you to swerve unexpectedly.

In your effort to dodge, you step right into the path of Leigh Shaw. 

It all happens too fast; there's no chance for either of you to do anything else. You crash into each other, the impact sending a jolt through your bodies. You tumble sideways, your arm shooting out instinctively, breaking your fall and softening the impact as you land. Leigh lets out a sharp yelp as she staggers forward from the force of the collision, a look of shock quickly spreading across her face. As she falls, her knee scrapes against the rough concrete, and when she finally sits up, there's a noticeable gash, bleeding freely.

“Oh my god, I am so, so sorry,” you blurt out, horrified at the sight. “Are you okay? Can you stand?”

She grimaces, glancing at her knee, then back at you. “Well, I've definitely been better,” she says, trying to keep her voice light despite the pain. You give her a hand up, and as she leans on you for support, you can't help but notice she's dressed in denim shorts, a blue parka, and flip-flops—not exactly the attire for a morning jog. The sun's just starting to show its face, and you're left wondering where she's headed so early, if she's not out for a run or something.

Looking around, you notice the roll-up shutters of nearby establishments are still down, indicating they won't be opening anytime soon. It’s apparent that there's nowhere immediate to find help or a first-aid kit. You scratch the back of your neck, an awkward idea coming to you.

“I don’t think there’s nowhere we can ask for help,” you start, trying not to sound too anxious about what you’re about to suggest. “I've got a first-aid kit at my place, though. It's not far. We could fix you up there, if you're okay with it?”

Leigh takes a beat, and then gives you a nod. “I guess that's my best option right now. Lead the way.”

As you start walking, Leigh instinctively grabs your arm for support. Your foot have barely hit the pavement when she suddenly grips tighter, fingers clawing into your arm as she lets out a hiss of pain. The wound must have stretched as she bent her knee to take a step, and with the way she's limping, you realize making her walk is a bad call.

“Shit, I'm really sorry,” you apologize again, the situation dawning on you. This isn't at all how you wanted to run into Leigh again, especially after trying to find a way to reconnect since the dinner in her car. “Let me get an Uber.”

Leigh starts to object, but you're already pulling out your phone. The last thing you wanted was for your attempt to help to end up hurting her more.

-

“So, where were you headed earlier?” you ask casually, hoping not to pry too much. “Doesn't seem like you were out for a run like I was.”

Leigh’s injury is more severe than you first thought; after hitting a rough patch on the pavement, her knee took the brunt of the fall. The skin is scraped away in several places, revealing angry, reddened flesh beneath. 

“Grocery, or something,” Leigh mumbles, distracted and wincing a bit as you ready another dab of antiseptic for her knee. The moment the cotton touches the wound, she can't help but jerk away slightly.

“Sorry, sorry,” you murmur, soothingly, noticing she's struggling to stay still. To help steady her, you gently hold onto her calf, and that's when you feel your cheeks start to warm up. “I'll be as quick as I can,” you promise, trying to sound more confident than you feel.

“I’m okay. You're doing...fine,” Leigh sighs between clenched teeth, obviously trying to downplay her discomfort. 

You know you're not fine, certainly not in the way Leigh means. All you can hear is yours and Leigh’s breathing, and your heart stuttering in your chest, because despite barely seeing Leigh in recent weeks, this annoying little crush won’t go away. It’s weird enough that she’s Matt’s wife, and you can't shake the feeling that you’re probably the last person she’d ever look at that way. Not to mention, you're not even sure if she's into women.

Once you’re done cleaning her wound, you carefully wrap a bandage around her knee. Then, you head to the fridge to grab some ice, noticing Leigh's puzzled look when you return.

“What’s that for?” she asks, tilting her head slightly.

“I have a feeling you're going to have a bone bruise after that fall,” you explain, handing her the ice wrapped in a cloth. “This should help with the pain and keep the swelling down.”

She accepts it, a small smile of gratitude on her face as she says, “Thanks.”

“No problem, it's my fault anyway.”

“It was an accident,” Leigh points out.

An accident that, if I'm being honest with myself, I was somewhat hoping for, you reflect with regret.

Leigh looks relieved as she presses the ice against her knee, eyes closing for a moment. With the immediate pain taken care of, you can't help but wonder again where she was headed earlier as you start pulling ingredients out of the fridge to whip up some breakfast.

“Hope you're hungry,” you say, flashing a smile as you fire up the stove.

“I'm fine, really,” she says, but the moment the bacon starts sizzling, she caves. “Actually, I could eat.”

With your back to her, you could smirk all you want at her change of heart. After frying up the bacon and eggs, you pull out some leftover rice and begin chopping garlic.

“What are you making?” Leigh asks suddenly from behind you.

“This is something I picked up on my travels through Southeast Asia,” you share as you cook. “Can't do bacon and eggs without it anymore. But I'll get some toast going for you.”

Leigh's face lights up, almost childlike. “Toast sounds great.”

You and Leigh settle into your meal, you with your plate of garlic rice, bacon, and eggs, and Leigh with her toast done just right alongside her bacon and eggs. She surprises you by complimenting how you cooked the eggs, noticing they're slightly burnt to a crisp around the edges.

“I've never had my eggs quite like this before,” she says.

“Oh, that?” you chuckle. “Learned the technique by accident some time ago. Got distracted and ended up leaving them on the heat a bit too long.”

She laughs too, and soon enough, you're both just talking like old friends, the conversation breezy and effortless. You begin to get a real sense of Leigh's sense of humor and it complements yours in the best way. Leigh loops back to when you mentioned visiting Southeast Asia, and you're more than happy to share your experiences, considering she's never left the country.

“...I’m pretty sure Hawaii counts, right? With the weather and everything, plus it’s really far—”

You’re still cracking up over some joke she made moments ago, and now you’re wondering if you’ll ever stop. 

“No way, Leigh, it doesn’t work like that!” you get out between laughs, holding onto your stomach as you shake with laughter.

The more you talk, the more Leigh hangs on every word, making you feel surprisingly at ease. Sharing stories about places you've been and things you've seen becomes less about bragging and more about just sharing your adventures with someone who’s really listening. It's kind of refreshing, actually, feeling this free to dive into your memories with someone so interested.

That is until the topic eventually shifts to your fitness routine. It's then that Leigh offhandedly mentions, “You'll probably see more progress with the new instructor next week. I heard she’s got a certificate and all.”

You pause, fork paused mid-air. “New instructor? You’re not leading the class next week?”

Leigh simply shakes her head no.

“Then, when are you coming back?”

Leigh takes a breath before saying, “I actually quit.”

Hearing her say she’s left the studio nearly makes you spit out your breakfast. You're halfway through a bite, trying to wrap your head around the news, when suddenly, Leigh checks her phone. Before you can even dive into a million questions about why she quit, she's saying she needs to head home.

Your thoughts are spinning, but you don’t miss the opportunity to offer her a ride.

“You drive?” Leigh looks surprised. 

“Yeah, just got the car this weekend,” you manage to say, still reeling from the shock that Leigh won't be at Beautiful Beast anymore.

“Are you sure? I can just call a cab,” Leigh mutters, probably noticing you're a bit out of it. 

“No, really, I insist,” you say. Making her walk on that knee seems like the last thing you should do. 

Leigh tries to brush it off once more, “Again, an accident.”

You ignore her, grabbing your keys from a dusty fishbowl. “Doesn't mean I won't be kicking myself over it.”

She lets out a sigh, and you can't quite tell if she's resigned or just annoyed. 

-

As you pull up in front of Leigh's house for the first time, you're immediately taken in by its typical three-bedroom layout. The lawn, however, looks like it hasn't seen a mower in quite some time, giving the place a lived-in, somewhat neglected feel. You quickly get out of the car to help Leigh to the front step.

Then, out of nowhere, Leigh curses, patting down her pockets in a panic. “Fuck, I forgot my keys.”

“But someone should be home, right?” you ask.

Leigh rings the doorbell, her expression turning sour. “Yeah, my sister,” she mutters, clearly not thrilled at the prospect.

You're taken aback when, a few seconds later, it's Jules from the studio who opens the door. The sharp look they exchange isn't lost on you; it's clear there's more to the story than just Leigh coming home without her keys. You're gearing up to say goodbye, assuming Leigh will head inside, but instead, she turns to you and says, “Wait right here.”

You do as she says, glancing at the ground, shuffling your feet back and forth.

“Hi, I'm Jules, Leigh's sister. I've seen you around at Beautiful Beast. You're one of Leigh's clients?” Jules smiles at you, politely offering a hand for you to shake. You accept it and introduce yourself in return. Watching her face, you see the moment she puts it all together. 

“Oh, you're the vet who Matt had—I'm sorry. It's just, I wasn't expecting to see you here, helping Leigh home.”

You knew where that first sentence was going, but you're silently thankful Jules decided to pull back and not finish it. You force a smile as you explain how you got here. “She was out for groceries, and I kind of ran into her, leading to a bit of a fall, and now—”

“No, she wasn’t,” Jules cuts in sharply. 

“Sorry?”

“Leigh didn't come home last night,” she says. But before you have a chance to process this new information, Leigh returns, clutching a fifty-dollar bill.

“For the trouble,” she tells you, getting in front of Jules.

You attempt to wave it off. “Hey, you don't have to do that—”

But Leigh isn't taking no for an answer, she presses the bill into your hand. You never see it coming what happens next: she plants a quick peck on your cheek, effectively shutting down any further protests. The spot where her lips brushed against your skin tingles, and it’s all you can think about for a moment. Without waiting for you to react properly, Leigh starts herding Jules back inside the house, throwing over her shoulder a quick, “Thanks again, Y/N. Bye.”

You're left there, holding the bill in one hand, touching your cheek with the other, and staring at the closed door, suddenly very aware of how little you actually know about what's going on in Leigh's life.

-

Suzie shoots you that knowing look again as you head out of the clinic decked out in your active gear.

This time, a blush creeps up on your cheeks, memories of your chat with her about someone “making those sweat sessions worth it” floating back, and you try your best not to let your thoughts drift to Leigh. But then it hits you that she won't be there. Despite your dedication, the sheer excitement of going to the studio isn't quite what it used to be without her as your instructor.

Just as Suzie is about to lock up, the door bursts open. A man rushes in, cradling a small dog in his arms, panic written all over his face. He explains, breathless, that his pet is struggling with labor.

Suzie looks back at you. “I could call Foreman for this,” she says, already reaching for her phone. You stand there for a second, deliberating. Leigh won't be at the class; she's no longer at the Beautiful Beast. 

Then, making up your mind, you hold out a hand to stop Suzie. “No, there’s no need. I've got this.”

-

It feels like you've just walked into one of those old-timey romantic movies, where chivalry isn’t dead and everything turns out way better than you could've ever hoped. In hindsight, it’s better. Because it’s real, and you're right in the middle of it, living a dream you didn't even know you had, with the kind of guy you thought only existed in those movies.

The night air is cool and light, brushing against your skin as the car slows to a stop in front of your apartment. To say the least, it's been an unexpected evening for a first date, and easily one of the best.

As Matt pulls up to your building, he turns to you, a sheepish grin lighting up his face. “Well, here we are,” he says, as if surprised you've arrived so soon. 

You don’t want to say goodbye. Not yet. So you stay put in the passenger seat, doing your best to draw out the last strands of the evening.

“So, Nick was the mastermind behind all this?” you tease, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you two. 

Matt chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, about that... I had no clue he asked for your number until he handed it to me and said, ‘You owe me one’.”

“He’s the perfect wingman, then?”

“I guess you could say that,” Matt agrees, smiling. “I didn't tell him about my interest in you, but Nick knew anyway. He's good at reading people, always has been.”

“I see,” you say, your gaze following the contours of his cheeks, which carry a soft pink blush. It could be from the red wine you both enjoyed at dinner, or, you find yourself hoping, it might be because of you. “Well, he has my thanks. I really thought he was the one interested in me though.”

Matt laughs, a sound that rumbles deep in his chest. “No, it was always me. Since the moment I, uh, ran into you.”

There’s a moment where you both just stare at each other, tacitly acknowledging the serendipity of it all—the accidental meeting that could've ended with a simple apology and nothing more. 

Yet here you are.

“You know, I'm glad it was you,” you profess, feeling a boldness that usually isn't there. 

Matt breaks into a huge grin, but it's really in his eyes where you can see just how happy your remark has made him.

“Would you... maybe want to do this again? Without the running into each other part, I mean,” he says softly.

You laugh, nodding. “I'd like that. Just maybe start with coffee next time. And no spilling.”

“Deal,” he says, his grin infectious.

As you step out of the car, a proposition forms in your mind and you backtrack.

“Would you like to get that coffee now?”

-

Sometimes, you find yourself dreaming about your memories with Matt, particularly the part Leigh interrogated you about. Even though you stuck to the facts, you couldn't shake off the feeling that you were somehow deceiving her.

You wonder if this is why you haven't been able to sleep for days. That, coupled with the fact that you've been handling emergencies yourself instead of calling Foreman as you used to. Suzie has mentioned that since you're taking on all the emergency cases, you might be overcompensating your intern. You don’t tell Suzie though that your work has become a welcome distraction from the realization that your new hobby no longer holds your interest, leaving you with extra hours to fill before returning to the solitude of your apartment.

And without seeing Leigh, there’s only your own head to get your fill of her. You find yourself thinking about her now and then, about what she's been doing, wondering if she's found a new job after leaving her yoga instructor position. She crosses your mind at the most random hours of the day, take right now, for example—staring at this little 8-day-old Shih Tzu puppy in the incubator, its fur somehow has you thinking of Leigh's hair color.

The puppy was part of a litter brought in for a C-section. Tragically, its mother didn't survive, and the owner, possibly overwhelmed by the situation and the impending bills, abandoned them. Out of four puppies, this one, the runt of the litter, was the sole survivor.

“What are we going to do with you, huh?” you muse aloud, the puppy blinking back with innocent eyes. “I can't take you for myself; you'd just end up living here in the clinic with me. And let's be honest, living in a hospital can't be much fun, right? It’s not safe either, exposes you to diseases.”

You sigh, brushing its length with your forefinger. “The other choice is to send you to a shelter. I'm sure someone would fall head over heels for you and adopt you in no time. But,” you sigh, your heart heavy, “I can't guarantee that'll happen quickly, as much as we both might want it to.”

“Finding where you fit in this big world isn't easy, you know? It's like searching for that one place, or that one person, where you could simply just… belong to. But I guess when you finally find it, it feels like winning the lottery, right?”

The puppy makes a noise, automatically bringing a smile to your lips. You wonder if Leigh has ever thought of the same thing—about searching for where she belongs after losing her home and everything familiar when Matt passed away. Perhaps it's even scarier for her. The thought of finding that one thing that's uniquely ours, only to lose it forever. What if we're only given one thing that's truly meant for us?

And once it's gone, what does that leave us with?

-

One sleepless night, after deciding to bring the puppy home for a more personal touch in its care, a thought crosses your mind. What if you could restore some of what was inadvertently taken from Leigh? Maybe bring back a piece of home and purpose that seemed to have slipped through her fingers when her world turned upside down?

It’s true, the puppy's late-night energy partly nudged the thought your way, but deep down, you believe Leigh will be perfect for him. You're sure she'll adore him, and he's bound to love her just as much.

Just as you're settling back to attempt sleep again, your phone starts ringing. You blink at the screen, disbelief washing over you as you see it's Leigh calling—the same woman you've recently realized you have feelings for, and who's been on your mind just moments ago. A part of you wonders if she dialed the wrong number by mistake, but it keeps ringing, compelling you to answer.

“Leigh?” you answer, the name almost a question in itself.

On the other end, you hear her take a deep breath—an ironic move given how the call exudes a vibe of urgency. Then, she speaks, her voice clear yet carrying an undercurrent of something you can't quite place. 

“Y/N Are you available to talk right now?”

“Yeah, I am. What's going on—”

“No, not on the phone. Can you meet me right now?”

You glance down at yourself, noting your sleep shorts and tee. You're so comfortable and cozy in bed, and the puppy had just gotten to sleep. It's tempting to reschedule this some other time. But the thought of Leigh Shaw on the other end of the line, coupled with the worrying nature of her request, tilts the balance. The idea of saying no, only to find out something bad happened to her, is something you know you wouldn’t forgive yourself for.

“Yes, I can meet you,” you say, hurrying your movements and snatching your jacket from the cabinet. “Where?”

-

The date doesn't end with just late-night coffee.

Matt's hand is on your ass, fingers digging in like he owns the place. You’re gripping his tie, pulling him in, again and again. Both of you are still wearing all your clothes, but they're starting to feel like barriers as you both lean into each other, striving to get as close as humanly possible.

The invitation for a nightcap, decaffeinated per his request, had both of you sitting a bit too close on the couch, sharing silly smiles over steaming cups as if you were already lost in love. When the cups were drained, conversation drifted dangerously towards the topic of sex, and that's when you caught yourself staring at Matt's lips. Before he had a chance to react, you were going for it, giving into weeks of pent-up sexual tension.

Matt's lips find their way to your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. Encouraged by the heat of the moment, your fingers start to work on the buttons of Matt's shirt, eager to explore further. 

But then his hands caught yours.

“W-Wait��”

You’re stunned, pulling back almost reflexively, feeling a bit embarrassed as you tried to figure out if you crossed a line.

“Did I... do something wrong?” you ask.

Matt shakes his head and then kisses you on the forehead. He further reassures you by saying, “No, no, it's not you. I just think we might be rushing things a bit. I really like you, and I want us to be sure about this, you know?”

Inside, you’re a mess of wants and needs, but as much as you want him tonight, you realize you want him even more tomorrow, and the day after. You won't rush this, especially if he's not ready. So, you nod, squashing down the throbbing between your legs as you try to concentrate on anything but his half-open shirt. 

“I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable or anything,” he adds, wearing that apologetic look on his face that got you the first time.

In response, you hold Matt's face gently, giving him a quick, soft kiss on the lips. “I really like you too,” you say, despite feeling like those words pale in comparison to what you truly feel for him.

Standing up, you figure he'll say his goodbyes and head out. But instead, Matt looks up at you, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.

“I don't want to rush things,” he repeats. “But, I also don't really want to leave just yet. Would it be okay if I stayed the night?”

The request takes you by surprise, a warm fluttering sensation bubbling up inside you at the thought of him wanting to stay. “Of course, you can stay,” you whisper, a smile tugging at your lips. “But I hope you're okay with the couch.”

Matt laughs and starts pulling off his socks. “There's nowhere else I'd rather be.”

-

Ever since Leigh asked to meet at a gas station on the sketchier side of town, your anxiety hasn't settled. It's a part of town known for trouble, somewhere you'd rather not be, especially in the dead of night. It doesn’t matter, because you’re hopelessly driven by concern and an unspoken affection that won't let you say no to her, no matter the time or place.

You walk up to the convenience store next to the gas station, its fluorescent lights flickering ominously, almost like you've just stepped into the opening scene of a horror movie. It's dead silent, aside from a radio playing inside the store, turned up by the person manning it in a feeble attempt to fill the silence or maybe to keep company. Leigh is inside, visible through the large, pane-glass window, nursing a coffee, alone. The way she's standing, something's off. 

You make your way towards her, hands buried deep in the comfort of your hoodie's pockets. 

“Hey—”

She's like a coiled spring at the sound of your voice. That should’ve been your first clue.

“Why did you lie?” Leigh asks point-blank.

“Leigh, I—What do you mean?”

Leigh's face twists into a grimace that chills you to the bone, a clear sign that tonight's going down one of two paths: either you both find a way through this mess, or she cuts you out for good. But you're lost, genuinely clueless about any lie she's accusing you of. You've been straight with her, at least you think you have.

Her nostrils flare, her eyes burning holes into you as she waits for some sort of confession. But all you can give her is a dumbfounded look.

After a while, Leigh's patience wears thin. “We're not doing this here,” she growls, glaring at the lone store clerk, who seems amused and makes no attempt to hide his interest in eavesdropping on the conversation.

“Leigh, I seriously don't know what you're talking about.”

“Just come with me,” she snaps, ushering you back outside, pulling at your arm with a grip that leaves no room for argument. It's painful, the way her nails dig into your skin, but you suppose you deserve it, whatever it might be. If it helps her release her anger, you're willing to bear it.

Leigh stops, plants her hands on her hips, and just looks at you, like she's waiting for something to click in your head. “Leigh, please—” you start, but you're cut off not by her anger this time, but by the sight of her eyes glistening, fighting back tears.

“You're really going to make me say it?” she manages to choke out, before giving a humorless laugh and running a frustrated hand over her face. Before you can protest again, she thrusts a phone into your hand. It's lit up, a text conversation open and waiting. As you scroll through the messages, your mouth opens in shock. They're from Matt. 

Skimming through the texts, your jaw nearly hits the ground. He's recounting your first date, detailing how the night ended with him at your place. He admits nothing happened, but not for a lack of desire. Instead, he confesses he held back because he's still wrestling with the fact that he's married to Leigh. He mentions wanting to make sure when he jumps in with you, he's not dragging any “chains” along.

He goes on, saying he felt you were on the same page, ready to go further, and implies the only reason things didn't heat up was because he had self-control. Reading this, you can't decide if Matt's just showing off or if he's trying to justify his half-steps to whoever's reading this on the other end.

“Whose phone is this?” you blurt out, the only question that registers in your brain. It turns out to be the wrong thing to say, though, as it’s precisely the spark that ignites Leigh's fury, sending it cascading over the edge.

“Don’t fucking change the subject!”

You press your lips into a thin line, your own frustration simmering. “I didn't lie to you, Leigh.” You wave the phone with Matt’s messages like some kind of proof, arguing, “He even says here nothing happened!”

“It's not just about what did or didn't happen!” she fires back, her eyes blazing. “You wanted it to happen. You were ready to go there with him. You wanted more, and you're still not owning up to it.”

At this point, keeping your emotions under wraps isn't an option anymore. 

“Yes! Of course, I wanted to go there with him,” you explode, your hands coming up in the air in surrender. “I found him attractive, thought he was a great guy, and—single, Leigh! I thought he was single when I was falling for him, okay? Are you happy now?”

Leigh's response is to laugh, but it's not a happy sound. It's bitter, mocking, and it just keeps going. 

You're standing there, breathing hard, your breath visible in the chilly air, when it hits you why she’s so upset: When you were telling her the details of your affair, you made it sound as if what happened—or almost happened—was just a casual fling. And Leigh, she just soaked up that version. In doing so, she somehow managed to forgive Matt, forgive you for your role in it, and even toy with the idea of being friends with you.

You made her believe it didn’t mean anything more than what she meant to him. It ripped off the bandage and thrust a knife back into her wound.

After Leigh's laughter fizzles out, the cold seems to bite a little harder, and you notice her shivering—whether from the cold or the tumult of emotions, you can't tell. She's just in shorts and a thin shirt, unprepared for the temperature drop.

Seeing her like this, vulnerable and cold, you feel the urge to just hug her and make her feel a fraction of how badly you regret deceiving her all along. Because saying “I'm sorry” feels way too small for the giant mess of feelings you're dealing with, especially the ones about her that you didn't even realize were piling up until now.

“Leigh,” you whisper, bargaining for something you don’t know.

She meets your gaze, a bit more peace in her eyes now, but that doesn't stop the tears from finally rolling down her cheeks. She's about to speak when suddenly a car pulls up in front of you, its headlights flashing across your faces, momentarily blinding you both.

A man steps out of the car, and Leigh recognizes him immediately. You do too, although it takes you a second longer to realize. Before either of you could react, he's already launching into a tirade. “Leigh, what the hell? Leaving in the middle of the night, stealing my phone—”

“Not now, Danny.”

You freeze, every fiber of your being locking onto the newcomer—because you're almost certain Leigh misspoke. 

His name is not Danny.

It’s Nick.

[bloodiedrogue]

THE PADLOCK PLAYOFFS

SUMMARY: Astarion and you compete for the camp's best lockpicker.

PAIRING: Astarion & Gender Neutral Reader

WORD COUNT: 1,190

WARNINGS: None?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: @leighsartworks216 is a genius and wrote the hilarious text post this little fic is based off of, so thank Leigh for their perfect brain! Also, no editing because I'm supposed to be on vacay.

MASTERLIST

-

“Are you two always this competitive?” 

The question originally had come from Wyll. After a particularly heated argument over the most effective way to distract and pickpocket, the answer quickly became obvious and the topic was dropped, knowing that forevermore, you and Astarion would always be seen as two opposing sides, competing for the ultimate prize of best rogue within the camp. 

At first, it was civil. At least to some degree. Discussions between the two of you would always rise to a boiling point but would never overflow the pot. Oftentimes both of you would just laugh at the other’s supposed perfected tactics, claiming to be the best before deciding a test would inevitably occur once the time was right. 

No testing ever followed through though. Considering you were far too busy with the threat of the Absolute and the fact that none of your discussions were ever that serious. Each time a competition was promised it was slowly forgotten and neither of you had a problem with it. 

Well, until now. Until Lae’zel absentmindedly makes some comment about how long Astarion’s taking to pick the lock of the chest in front of him.

All of you are back at camp for the night. After a particularly rough day of looting through an overflowing camp of Absolute cultists, the majority of you are lounging by the fire, drinking ale or wine, staring at the flames in silence as you all settle down. 

Towards the tents though, Astarion kneels in front of a large chest, brows pushed towards the centre of his face in deep concentration while Lae’zel stands above him, arms crossed angrily over her chest.  Both you and Karlach spare a glance, watching the inevitable argument that breaks out, noticing the exhaustion in Astarion’s eyes as he turns towards the Gith and yells. 

“If you’re so keen on rushing my craft then I’ll just piss off and let the second best rogue do it!” 

He motions to you with an open hand as he says it, catching the annoyed look you give him in the process. How your jaw all but sets into a stiff position, your lips pressing together in an attempt to surpass the insults you wish to throw his way. 

“Yes, perhaps such a suggestion is best.”

Stealing your attention, you watch as Lae’zel motions to the chest with her chin, giving you the kind of nod that has you jumping to your feet and readying your tools, watching as Astarion merely rolls his eyes. 

“Second best rogue —are you kidding me, Star?” You huff and shake your head, angrily shoving him aside before he can even react. Then, you shove the short hook into the hole, feeling three successful shifts before pulling open the lock. 

When you do you narrow your eyes at Astarion before faking a yawn, patting the palm of your hand to your lips in the most dramatic way possible. 

“You were watching me do it,” he immediately argues, pointing to the tools in your hands, glaring at them like they’re the most evil instruments in the world. 

“From across camp?” You raise your brow and smirk. “Sweetie, you and I both know my eyesight isn’t that good.” 

“It’s good enough to recognize technique, darling.”

Somehow this time the argument of who’s better than who doesn’t die down like it usually does. Instead, it merely escalates to the point of interruption, causing both Gale and Wyll to step in, suggesting you all go to bed. Neither of you relents though, knowing what’s at stake. Knowing that whoever gives in will always be referred to as the lesser rogue. 

“How about we settle this fair and square then?” Astarion says.

You look at him like he’s just lost his head. “Wait, you’re capable of fairness?” you ask sarcastically, watching him roll his eyes before changing the subject, asking the camp for their finest padlocks.

It’s decided then that your semi-consistent call for competition is finally answered. That after countless weeks of rivalry amongst varying tactics, you’ll finally get to decide on at least one of them. 

The camp reluctantly wanders to their tents then, allowing you and Astarion a few moments to stare the other down with newfound skepticism until the party all returns with various locks, holding them out for both of you to survey. 

“Forgive me for questioning, but are competitions like this common amongst thieves?” 

Gale looks at you as you lower your head to his hands, narrowing your eyes at the lock’s design. It’s intricate on the outside, displaying an ornate pattern that wraps around the opening in two mirrored filigrees. 

“Very,” you reply, snatching the lock from his hand with a grin, turning to Astarion afterward. “Basic rules? I pick your lock, you pick mine, any means necessary?” 

Astarion nods, holding out the lock inside his palm to you, prompting you to do the same. 

Once switched you both immediately get to work, running your eyes and fingers over the mechanisms, trying to form the best course of action. Next to you, Astarion looks at his with great attention, mumbling to himself as he picks apart all the padlock’s quirks, quickly discovering your choice is unfortunately smart.

Hailing from a specific locksmith who works with magic users exclusively, you know he can tell the lock inside is enchanted. That once you stick your hook inside it’s essentially a free-for-all in regards to what happens next. 

Based on the filigree design it’s obvious to those who know that it’s laced with illusionary magic. Something you’re certain Astarion’s at least somewhat familiar with, allowing you to take your time.

Not that you need it. Not with the lock he so foolishly chose. 

As soon as it was placed into your open hand you recognized the model. An old faulty lock that had been giving rogues like you grief for years. Back when it was first developed it was quickly run off the shelves once people found it was impossible to open without destroying them completely, prompting a surge of collectors to adopt most for display. 

Knowing this, you also know a bit of brute force in the right spot can remedy such a fault.

Smirking to yourself, you twirl the lock on your finger and wander over to Karlach, eyeing her competition offering before holding out your hand. 

“May I?”

She and the rest of the party look at you confused, watching as the tiefling hands it over almost immediately. 

You thank her kindly with a dramatic bow before glancing at your competitor, noticing how he’s finally found the right hook to ensure his success. 

“I’m surprised, didn’t think you’d get that far,” you tell him then, earning his attention long enough to hit the butt of Karlach’s lock against the other, triggering a loud click to signify its opening.

At which point, Astarion all but stares. With eyes so wide you swear they might fall out, you toss the lock in his direction, watching him fumble with the one in his hand before ultimately catching yours against the base of his forearm, looking up to glare as you blow him a cheeky kiss.

-

@poohxlove @gaiasmight @sassy-stupid @novarex @v-gremlin @sapphiccloud @lipstickghoulie @kuroitsukyo@jjfchk@idiotsatan@bluestuesday@bloopthebat@art-by-greenie@heneralmoon@sukunababe@dreamingaboutyousworld@ranfithegood@haniscrying@liadamerondjarin@the-lake-is-calling@marina-and-the-memes@rookieoftheyear@zraloci-cpr@kaetmo@snickerdoodle-daydream@wowowwild@d1anna@raswiet@conniesbbymama@venus-wrts@demonicthorns@kihten@deadglamsheep@sanscas@spammypasta@leighsartworks216@rose-gold-blue@p1ssmagg0t@hellish-writes@ghostinvenus@otayz@sexysquatch@sleepyeclair@colorful-anxieties@alina-exe@ilana-the-lasagna@lillifer@girlwiththepapatattoo@y2cade@acelin-ginsberg@pinkuranium@catrad0rable@scarletrosesposts@qwnamidala@itsrosebabe@bunnyperi@queenofcarrotflowers-s@tatumadams20@spkyxszn@chlort@f3v3rs@awkwardwookie@joy-the-reader@warm-milk-with-honey-blog@vertigocrime@iyis@wildpiper@pebblethestone@tillywasneverhere@bex-03@kaetmo@revemiya@staticspouse@itzagothamcitysiren@djarinsmixtape@when-the-night-came@epicy0n@bababahannah@sleepyred1703@lotus-99@lofcompass@r4d10h34d5@vampninjaz@itsmekalou@offbrandhand@yikes-buddy@konenichi@rainonarden@oceanbluesixeyes@bodtyworship@maydayitsjay@greasyslimebucket@yeeteth-the-raven@fantasyfairysworld@allexthakatt@flowersaretheshit@morglyne@thespectacularspaceace@cephiss0@use-your-telescope@furblrwurblr@kloverfield@angelofthorr@writervaul-t@starved-kitten@minixluvr@crowley--aziraphale@sapphicwren@alionera-blog@jennithejester@dezedrol@thisisew@saladalpaca@applepiewithbacon@httpbiohazard@aurasyn@nerdoodles@kingpinthedevil@itzkawaiix@domainoflostsouls@silverskylan@uminootome@helpidkwhatimdoingwrong@deadlyinfernos@blackbirdswhispers@sarahskywalker-amadala@writingmysanity@f3v3rs@jayjones03@quietlyebbie@optimisticprime3@eyes-for-daze@sunnytalia3@megoshh@maddiedott@cappsikle@mostbeautifulnightmare@lynnlovesloki@simpytheshrimpy69@astarion-archive@smaranshakthi@autistic-deer@shadowfeart@freckled-petals@candied-lavender@hp-art-studio@ghouligan@satelliteapotheosis@waywardwitch-hel@pandimoostuff@mythoughtsofinsanity@ilovelovelylove@oneandonlyizabelle

TAGLIST NOW CLOSED!

[from-now-on-im-switzerland]

>They Love Baseball.

Jasperxf¡reader

>quick note, I could've done so much better with this if I started from scratch but this was from my fic I'm writing on Wattpad. I took out a lot because there's so much context needed for it to be understandable, so this is like a simplified one-shot.

>Reader and her friends playing Baseball at school with the Cullens.

>Post breaking dawn (aka vamp Bella)

>Also Jasper has better control over his thirst now.

>Reader is a new(ish) student and doesn't know of the Cullen's...situation🧛🏻"

°Reader's Pov°

I walked up to the classroom door only to see everyone was already in there..and the anxiety set in. Fuck. I walked past the door hoping to merlin that sir didn't see me while I built up the courage to go in. I stood against the wall of my classroom as I heard the rejester, my name being called and there being no response, only increasing my feeling. This is why I always try and make an effort to get to school early..so I'm not the last in with everyone staring at me. Don't get me wrong, I am so not keen on the cramped halls and all the loud voices but it beats me awkwardly strolling into class late, having to give an excuse to the teacher and bypass all my classmates to my seat.

I removed my hands away from my face as a comfortable wave of calmness infiltrated my emotions. The anxiety was washed away and the fear was replaced with subtle confidence. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes only to notice Jasper by my side leaving about an inch of space between us.

"Jasper?" I said, relieved to see him again. After we became somewhat friends, he and his siblings weren't in school for a good week.

"Are you okay?" he asked, somewhat concerned. By now, he had placed his hand on the small of my back. My breath hitched at the contact, but ultimately returned to normal as my eyes met his.

"Uhm..yeah, I'm okay now. Thanks." I said, pretending not to be unbelievably relieved to see him. "where have you been?" I asked, the curiosity taking over me.

"Sorry, me and my family went camping for the week. I should've said, but it was pretty last minute." he said, a little smile playing at the corner of his lips when he talked.

"It's..it's okay. Just missed you that's all" I said, oddly confident.

He smirked, and his eyes darkened slightly. "Missed you too. C'mon let's get inside." he said, taking my hand and bringing me through the threshold of the door.

"Oh, there you are" Sir simply said. I felt the calmness fading and the anxiety slowly creeping back. "Try not be so late would you?" he asked as I took my set next to Jasper "Yes..sorry sir, I had a flat tire" I lied, but he seemed to buy it as he finished marking me in and continued the lesson. My friend, Glenn, sat on the other side of me and he nudged me slightly. "Hey are you alright? I saw you walk past the classroom just then..is everything good?" he asked.

"No..yeah I'm fine I just got a little nervous is all, nothing to fret over" I said, smiling timidly.

Jasper cleared his throat. "everything alright?" he asked, tucking his chair in a little, a hint of worry still lacing his words. I smiled at him "Yeah, thank you for helping out" I said back, my voice barley above a whisper, but he heard me still.

"Anytime, Y/n/n" he said, his smile returning.

Glenn shuffled in his seat, seeming uncomfortable. "you good?" I asked as he gained my attention. He smiled sheepishly "never better, just a little bit cold is all" he said.

Jasper rolled his eyes and started to work again.

☬⚊𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐒𝐤𝐢𝐩⚊𝐏.𝐄⚊☬

We all lined up outside the changing rooms, but first the teacher (Miss Leigh) did the register.

"OK guys, you'll be playing different sports, we'll have two teams for baseball, and 2 teams for volleyball, so after you're all changed, please get into groups of 6" Miss Leigh said, gripping her clipboard, ready to asses the students who needed to be. Glenn, Jess, Luke, Bradley, Isla and I, had all locked eyes as if we silently agreed that we were a team.

"Alright guys stop talking and get changed!" She ordered, shoving everybody inside their designated changing room.

Me, Glenn, Jess, Isla, Luke and Bradley were a team and we had to play against Jasper, and his family at a game of Baseball.

The Cullen's had brought all of the equipment over to the pitch, Jasper dropped the bag of bats at my feet, "you guys bat first" he said. I picked up a bat, and rested it on my shoulders. Not gonna lie, I felt like Harley Quinn.

"That's alright, i'm the one with the wicked curveball" I said, swinging the bat back around, immitating a hit.

"Oh well, I think we can handle that.." he smirked.

Glenn came up from behind me, again, and rested his arm around my shoulder. I very slowly and slyly shook his arm off, I didn't want to seem too rude, Glenn has only ever been kind to me so far.

"Is Hale bothering you Y/n?" He asked.

"No Glenn, Jasper isn't bothering me, we were just talking.." I said, smiling at him.

"Got a problem?" Jasper asked, raising his arms slightly.

"Don't start, can we just play baseball please?" I said, walking off. I got into position when Luke came over to me. "Y/n, just a warning...The Cullens...they love baseball" Luke said, randomly.

"Okay, and?" I asked, a smile tugging on my lips.

"They're very competitive" Luke said, seeming like he was putting it simply.

Right..

Bradley took a bat, and I swear I heard some laughing as if they thought this first round was going to be so easy. Alice did a really weird but really cool looking bowl, it was kinda attractive not gonna lie...

Anyways, Bradley struck the ball as hard as she could sending it flying across the field. About two of Jaspers teammates went after it, while Bradley sped around the pitch and made a home run.

She made her way through our team, with high fives, hugs and fist bumps, until Luke was the last person to congratulate her. She couldn't decide what to do, she went to hug him but then swiftly rose her hand to high five him, only to change her mind again to a fist bump. Luke slowly put her arm down "Well done, Brads.." he said through small giggles, subconsciously not letting go of her hand.

' OH YES! They don't call me Y/n, Little Miss Match Maker for nothing! Wait..no one calls me that..nevermind...still cute tho. '

Edward, who was nearby, threw his head back, laughing.

' I swear to God, if this man conviently laughs at another thing that I think, then i'm officially convinced he's inside my mind '

"Are we playing Baseball or what? Edward, stop laughing and focus!" Rosalie hissed.

At that point I understood what Luke had meant before.

"Alright babe, it's just a game!" Emmett said smirking.

Jess picked up the bat and waited for Alice to bowl her the ball. We all took our turns, some attempts were more successful than others..and in total we got a score of 4 home runs.

Time to switch.

We all started walking to the opposite sides of the pitch and into each other's previous positions. I went to hand over my bat to Jasper and just as he was about to take it, I dropped the bat his feet. "Your turn, cowboy.." I said, trying to hide my amused smile.

He kicked the bat up into his hands and caught it "That's alright, i'm the one with the wicked curveball" he said, mocking my accent.

I laughed a little before attempting his "Yeah well, I think we can handle that.."

He hid his laughter and headed to stand by the rest of his family.

Glenn and Isla briefly squabbled over being pitcher before Isla gave up and joined me in fielding. Glenn got ready to serve the ball to Emmett, nowhere near matching Alice's bowl, but still throwing it with a lot of force. Emmett held the bat with one hand and kept his eye one the ball. His family egging him on, as they were lined up behind him.

Out of nowhere, just as Glenn served, there was a crash, someone's car had rolled down the hill of the car park. Almost everyone's eyes had gravitated toward the truck, so no one was really paying attention, including me.

"Y/N LOOK OUT!" I heard Alice shout from across the pitch.

I snapped my head back around to see what she was talking about, until for a split second I saw the ball that Emmett had hit, fly straight toward my face. I braced myself, scrunching up my nose and bringing my hands up to shield my face. Only for a different hand to reach out infront of me, and catch the ball before it even touched me.

Jasper.

He threw the ball back over to Emmett, aggressively, purposefully hitting him in the chest. "Watch it." Jasper warned, Emmett held up his hands jokingly in surrender.

Jasper turned back to me. "Don't get distracted next time, alright" he said, winking before jogging back over to join Edward in their line up.

I didn't even get to say thank you.

"So am I out then?" Emmett questioned, throwing his arms up. The ref had walked off, either out of boredom or to sort out the car. Probably the latter.

Emmett threw the ball to Glenn, then sat down anyways with Rosalie.

Glenn then served to Bella. Bella swung the bat with one hand and hit the ball all the way into the forest, before speeding off around the pitch.

I ran after it. 'what sort of main character moment was that?' I thought, running to catch up with the ball.

I picked it up after it landed ahead of me and saw Bella approaching the home base.

"LUKE!" I yelled, to give him a heads up.

I built up all my strength and launched the ball forward. It was now Bella Vs the ball. Which one would make it to home base first? Bella looked up and saw the ball, and tried her best to run as fast as she could.

Luke caught the ball and placed it on home base, just as Bella had reached there.

"...You're out.." The game's ref noted, walking back out of nowhere with a pencil in her ear.

I walked back over to my team and celebrated with them.

'How's that for a main character moment? ' I thought, sarcastically. 'Guess she just wasn't fast enough.'

Edward quickly faced the other direction and shook his head, smiling.

Bella went and sat down next to Rosalie. Rosalie smirked as she saw her walking over to her and said something along the lines of "How did it feel being you this time?"

Jasper was up next. He span the bat around in his hands, hitting the end of it away from him, then catching it the right way up, swirling it in small circles behind his head. Something about that caught me so off guard...he did that and I was instantly trying to somehow stop the butterflies deep in my stomach as if they were gonna burst out at any moment. I snapped back to reality replaying his 'don't get distracted' in my mind. He hit the ball with force and sped off around the pitch I watched the ball fly towards me at full pace several feet above me in the air. I ran with it, trying to maybe catch it. It lowered and I jumped backwards, determined to catch it. And I did.

I held the ball up as he was about 5 feet away from home base. He turned and saw me walking back, baseball in hand and couldn't help but look to his feet and smirk. He walked to his team, and sat down with Rosalie, Emmett, And Bella not taking his eyes away from me.

I threw the ball to Glenn gently, and winked at Jasper. His signature smirk appeared and he looked down sheepishly.

"Didn't get distracted.." I said to myself, returning to my position. And he looked up, as if he heard me.

We played a few more rounds for the rest of the lesson, the Cullens ended up beating us, only by two though! And apparently that was the closest anyone's ever been so...it's a personal win.

While taking a sip of some of Bradley's water, Jasper walked over to me. "Good game, hotshot.." he said, looking me up and down.

"Well, I'm more than just a pretty face, cowboy" I said, taking a step forward.

"Are you sure about that?" He quizzed, tilting his head to examine my face.

"Oh I'm sure, I wiped the floor with your ass..well not the floor...the grass really" I said, reffering to my catch.

"Really? Last I checked..we did beat you guys?" He said, looking behind him at his family.

"Still, we came rather close..best competition you've had? " I questioned.

"and how would you know that? You're still new here sweetheart." he teased.

I titled my head and squinted my eyes slightly in response to his „sweetheart„

"What's with the nicknames, darling?" I teased him, calling him out.

"I- uh..what? You call me Cowboy all the time and plus, am I not allowed to call you nicknames now? You seemed to like it before..you're cheeks would go red and you'd hide your smile. Don't you trust me? Don't you appreciate me? you seemed to this morning.."

"Did i? Or did you give me no choice?" I countered. "And why all the questions?"

"Nah, you trusted me. I could tell." he said, walking back into the sports hall. He turned around, and began walking away. His uniform clinging to the muscles on his back. "You're welcome by the way" he spoke, referring to earlier, as he continued back up and inside the hall.

[sastrology]

the rising and you

(part 1/3)

ARIES RISING: FOREST FIRE

pictured: (Rihanna and Stevie Nicks, Aries Rising)

Individuals born with an Aries rising stand out of a crowd. They typically have exuberant personalities and an easy time drawing friends. They're likely to be quite opinionated and are not the type to keep beating around the bush or react well to passive-aggressive behavior. They love anything that is new and fresh. These individuals are known for being quite go-getters who will not settle. They can be very blunt and to the point which can irritate the softer rising signs, but they prefer to let people know where they stand and hate beating around the bush.

With a Cancer 4th house (if sign interceptions are not present) they can have a strong bond with the family and feel as though they are the family's protector which can make them act out impulsively if they ever feel threatened. Even if they are the youngest sibling, they often become a sort of mother figure to the rest.

Build wise they will appear more masculine, and athletic even if they don’t work out. They really pop in sportswear regardless of build. Red and black colors are flattering and make their features pop. Pointed chins that form into a well-defined square jaw with thick and defined eyebrows. Being the first sign of the zodiac they can also appear quite younger than they are. They may also have a lot of scars or bruises on the face and body.

TAURUS RISING: ROCKS AT A SEA SHORE

pictured: (Fred Rogers and Vivien Leigh, Taurus Rising)

Individuals with a Taurus Rising exude a calm, stable energy that a lot of people crave. They're stubborn, generous individuals who can be very pleasing and practical to speak with. They really enjoy luxury and beauty items and take a lot of time for self-care. They are the types to not really want to involve themselves in drama as they can think of 100 other things they'd rather be doing. They’re never going to say everything you want to hear, they will say what you need to hear. They are strong individuals who can bare the weight of the waves that can crash down on them.

With Leo in the 4th house (if sign interceptions are not at play) it shows they needed a lot of love growing up. Whether that was met or not is ambiguous, but Taurus Rising individuals are either made strong or born strong. They may have great pride for the home and enjoy throwing family get-togethers and cookouts and do it tastefully.

Facial features tend to be very symmetrical with naturally curly hair. They’re built with a well-formed body, average-to-short statures, larger arms, and a strong neck. Thick, curly hair is more likely. Thanks to the Venusian influence, these risings can have softened almost refined features. As to be expected, these risings look great in greens and burnt umbers. They typically care quite a bit about what they look like, so beauty can be a focus.

GEMINI RISING: KALEIDOSCOPE

pictured: (Amy Winehouse and Drew Barrymore, Gemini Rising)

Gemini Rising individuals are bright, vivacious, and expressive individuals. You can usually spot them pretty easily since they love to talk and communicate and use a lot of hand movements. They have keen observation skills and the ability to read people quickly. They are very light-hearted, yet impulsive individuals, who love to give their opinion on anything. They are very strong communicators with a lot of charm. They're very changeable in nature and can change their minds often as they are constantly seeing the world from a new angle due to their curious mind that never stops working.

With Virgo in the 4th house (if sign interceptions are not present) we see organized individuals who strive to help their loved ones improve. They will provide a lot of acts of service to the family and constantly strive for more ways to better assist them. If something goes wrong in the house or family, they can become bogged down on the tiny details and become frustrated. They are very good at organizing as they are able to see all of the little details to help make something perfect.

The eyes are clear and sparkle, especially when they get to talk about something they're passionate about. Broad foreheads and they may appear younger than they are. They typically have slim builds and average to tall heights. The limbs in general are quite long, including the fingers, legs, and neck. VERY expressive facial expressions.

CANCER RISING: SPRING RAIN

pictured: (Selena Gomez and Farrah Fawcett, Cancer Rising)

Individuals with a Cancer ascendant are remembered for heartfelt talks at 3 am, intuitive nature, and innocence they project.

With Libra in the 4th house (if sign interceptions are not present) they will be known for having an aesthetically pleasing house. They may be a bit messy, but it carries a certain charm to it. Venusian in nature, they may make great designers and have a knack for interior designing.

With the parents they may measure a lot of their worth on the approval they get from them. They could have a low tolerance for arguments in the household and have mastered the role of peace keepers.

As with most rising signs, the eyes can be round buckets of depth. People with a Cancer rising typically have rounded features. The hair and skin can be very luminous and carry a healthy glow and plump to it. They pull off silvers, charcoals, and greys like they just walked off a 1940s film set. Women with this rising typically develop femininely quite young and carry a fuller figure.

as always, I am not an astrologer. This is based on my astrology books and online research over the years. This is a very basic assessment of the rising sign, as a LOT of other factors can influence a person's personality.

[parchmentpaperandco]

Abbots Leigh

A 4 bedroom executive home.

Having been discontinued from the catalogue nearly a decade ago, those thieving bastards at P,P&C have updated one of their earlier properties - Abbots Leigh.

From the original planning blurb - 'With its opulent galleried landing to the rear of the property, take in the view of your own pool.'

This 'executive' property boasts enough living space for even the largest of families and the four bedrooms (all with robes) are well-proportioned.

If it's kerb appeal your after... well... seriously she don't disappoint.

Call Cindy for a show around - she's keen... for the commission.

[theweeklydiscourse]

It feels like beyond the pro-darkling/darklina sphere, it’s kind of rare to see Shadow and Bone fans truly cut to the bone about the underlying issues in both the trilogy and Leigh Bardugo’s subsequent spinoff series.

Honestly that could just be because I’m thinking of specific areas like YouTube or TikTok where this brand of critique is few and far between, but for a series as old as this one, I’d expect there to be a little more in-depth reflection on it’s flaws.

We’ll see a few similar points that are brought up frequently, but you’ll find that the critics who raise these points do so on a surface level. For example, the most common criticism of the series is the fact that it felt wrong to have the heroine lose her powers at the end, but it’s more common for people to just leave it at that instead of digging deeper into why it felt that way. Even then, you’ll have the odd contrarian piping up to argue that the people criticizing that aspect of the series just didn’t “get it” the way they did and that it was perfectly fine storytelling.

Inversely, you will hardly see any content that discusses the issues of the Grisha persecution storyline even on a surface level unless you delve into pro-darkling circles. Despite materials like Demon in the Woods and the Nikolai duology that display the Grisha’s plight in vivid detail, it isn’t a common topic of discussion among fans. When pushed to the limit, you’ll even see fans denying that the Grisha were ever oppressed at. On some level it makes sense why fans wouldn’t exactly be keen on discussing the flaws of their precious books, but it almost feels as though the fandom actively discourages discussions like this.

It could be that I’m just not searching hard enough, but I hardly see any YouTube videos or TikToks that discuss these things or try to dig into the issues with the series. You have the usual suspects like it being built on cliches, annoying heroine, annoying love interest and a terrible ending, but I feel like I need more.

[andileighwrites]

Break the Jar

...

A daydream is worth a dime.

Save them up, break the jar,

And watch what you've gathered

Pour out into your palms.

The collection—insurmountable

And aspirations are keen

On being spent.

...

Andi Leigh 08/04/2024

[birdybirdnerd]

The Parable is SICK IT'S SICK IT'S SICK-

The cacophony is getting worse. The wreckage, the Parable eating itself and eating itself and eating it all. They need to escape but it's eating the very code around them, numbers fizzling into nothing and disappearing into the void within, it's eating those Narrators that thought themselves above it all, that thought themselves More.

Leigh's Narrator is the last to go, the last who fought to the bitter end while the others were shredded and used to feed the bottomless pit the broken Parable had become. Torn apart in a whirlwind of horrifying noises, of screams that will haunt their nightmares for months and in the sparse, calm moments thereafter. He pleads, begs for someone to save him, proclaims repentance and cries out his apologies to the world, to Leigh, but no one responds. No one moves to help, for it is all a lie borne to save his own skin, and they know he would do little more than drag anyone else who reach out back down with him into oblivion.

They watch as he, too, is devoured and reduced to nothing.

But it isn't enough. They had hoped the two of them, the most powerful two of the force that had done this, would be each other's end, would be the final tipping point that dispersed the sick and rotting code to nothing, but with the last of the fouled Narrators gone and Perry still there, they realize that it's not over. It's not over.

Static roars as the thing that was a Story, once, turns to them in it's own flavor of desperation, it's own cry of need of want of hunger keening out and rattling the walls of the office to its core. It turns to them in starts and fits and jerky movements, the screaming hunger hunger more more more dragging it close as they turn to run, to escape, fleeing like their very existences depend on it because they do.

They know, innately, in that way you know if you fall from a great height you'll die, that they will die. This will not work. They are not fast enough, not when dragging the injured Narrator between them, not enough, and Perry is hungry and gaining and quick.

It's Stan that realizes, Stan the clever, the always-ahead, Stan in a last desperate attempt to save the others that knows what he must do. Stan that throws the Narrator, his Narrator, ahead with the others and ignores his desperate scream and turns back. His thoughts are not ones of self-sacrifice, not of a death to save his friends- his thoughts are little more than buy time by any means, are mostly it needs to calm down it's too fast it's collapsing too fast, it's taking everything down with it and we need to get out from under before we're trapped and taken down with it, and if Stan knows one thing about calming things and people down, it's that-

You can always use a Bucket.

The Bucket is an enigma, created by the Narrator - all of them, some of them, most of them - to be a reassuring presence. It's - a joke, a cry for help, a sly innuendo, an earnest olive branch across the divide of pain and suffering - nothing more than a simple object, hard metal, galvanized steel slapped with a couple cheesy stickers, and yet its effect is real. It's indescribable, how this one asset manages what it does, but it's a load-bearing Bucket, it's the Reassurance Bucket, and they all know its effects intimately.

Stanley shoves the Narrator forward, slings his Bucket around and faces the wall of writhing static, of blurry limbs and grasping cables and all-white pixel-lag eyes. He faces what used to be a Narrator, a Story, a Parable, and as it rears back and bears down on him with nothing singing through its rotting code but EAT EAT EAT-

Stan shoves the Bucket down on its head as hard as he can.

It's like someone hits pause on a movie in the climactic final battle. Frozen in time, in place like a still frame of film, it simply stops… moving. The roaring, buzzing, hissing noises stop, the flickering lights and shedding static stops, it all just stops.

And they run.

As they run, as they make it to their escape, they feel the building tide of destruction looming over them like a tidal wave about to crest, like a tsunami rushing towards land. The Bucket put a stopper on the apocalypse, but the pressure still builds and builds, pushing towards an explosion even more catastrophic than the one that almost overwhelmed them.

But it is enough. Enough for them to escape, enough for them to flee, and when the Bucket eventually stops working its strange, reassuring magic on the broken tatters of the Parable, when the seal finally breaks and the thing that was once Something finally snaps and devours the rest of itself whole, they are long, long gone.

[oristian]

What are some of your favourite non-SJM books?

Oh, I love this question!

My all time favorite book is The Book Thief by Markus Zusak. I have been reading this book for years, over and over again and I never get tired of it. It is always the first book I recommend to people.

I’ll list some more (not all) —

When the Moon Hatched by Sarah A. Parker

A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara

Babel by R. F. Kuang

The Poppy War Trilogy by R. F. Kuang

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid

Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo

The Host by Stephanie Meyer

The Nightingale by Kristen Hannah

The Rose of Sebastopol by Katherine McMahon

The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon

Nancy Drew Series by Carolyn Keene

[okaybooner]

[Hearing Boone admit to being in a good mood is exhilarating enough that Leigh unapologetically looks right at him; at the features that seem softer than usual, at the mellow green eyes, and--is the hair going to be a thing? Is Boone actually growing it out? That's so nice...]

[The compliments however cause her to bashfully look out the window again.]

Oh, is that so? I mean, hey, I guess otherwise you wouldn't tolerate me wanting to be around you at all times. And I promise that is not just because you don't object to my propensity for rambling! But... You already know that, though.

[Another pause as she drinks some more, her gaze still pointed at the window--but at nothing in particular, really, neither the old glass pane nor the glowing panorama behind it. It's easier to let her eyes stay unfocused as she gives herself a moment to go back to a thought.]

[She really loves Boone as a friend, that's for sure, very genuinely and in a manner that she had never expected herself to feel towards anyone--even if she's probably quite bad at showing it. Are her feelings romantic in nature, though? Not that she's ever been all that keen on putting a label on herself, but she can't say she's felt any attraction to any man in... a while. But then, crucially, she's not sure that she even thinks of Boone as a man. Which, she would probably be overstepping in some way if she tried bringing this up, not that she even knows how she would approach the subject. And why should it matter to him what she sees him as, anyway?]

[Also, she's almost a decade older than him. And not the sanest person in the Mojave. She wants to be Boone's friend, comrade, whatever he needs--she wants him to be alright, she wants to make him feel better, wants to be there. Just as Boone has been there for her. Wouldn't it be selfish of her to expect something else out of it? She can't put a finger on how exactly, but it feels so selfish, like she simply ought to know better.]

[She wishes she wasn't this inept at relationships. Can't she just calm down and go back to simply feeling grateful that she's got such a genuine, caring, intriguing person in her life? With very charming idiosyncrasies, no less?]

[Though the thoughts are numerous, they aren't new, and they pass by quickly--so she thankfully catches herself before she could start to really zone out. She turns her face towards Boone, expecting to see that lovely little smile again, but it looks like Boone's mood has soured. She feels a pang of guilt in her stomach.]

Oh... Are you alright? What's on your mind?

[boone knows he... she... whoever Boone Is... has never felt safe or at rest enough to analyze certain things that are coming to the surface now, and that being at rest in itself is a stressor for him certainly does not help. so certain things, he is still deeply uncertain about]

[but... the way he feels about leigh is so simple and clear. deceptively so, maybe, but still obvious enough that he can identify the feeling. he loves her. loves her. is the fact that he's been considering her in a romantic way a failing of him, his upbringing? has his stupid, traumatized brain misinterpreted devotion for his commanding officer as something more? maybe. but he can't help but feel there's something to it. COULD it ever be something? TECHNICALLY, she's never said, he's never asked, but he always assumed she only liked women. and boone doesn't know if ... if whatever he is would be good enough.]

[is it ... dishonest for him not to say anything? he considers her from his periphery. she's understanding. she goes out of her way to understand him, even when she doesn't agree with what he says. would she understand? could she fix it? if he got it off his chest, would the feeling go away? maybe hearing a rejection flat-out is the key...]

[and when she speaks, even though he was looking at her, he jumps a bit and knocks his cocktail straw around his glass nervously. at first, it seems like he's clammed up, but soon, he heaves a big sigh]

...i have to tell you something.

[boone wants to glance at her, but he finds he can't. coward... he bites back a cringe and squeezes the truth from his lungs with what appears to be a monumental effort. he could preamble for hours, but in the end, what can he really say?]

i... have...

i think i have ... feelings. for you.

[his heart leaps into his throat, and it seems to block all the words that want to flow out after that: i want to be your friend, that's the most important thing to me, i live for this, i want to help you, maybe i'm confused, you don't need to acknowledge this, i just want to be with you, i'm sorry, i'm sorry it's me, i'm sorry i'm not right for you, this is stupid, this is creepy, this is wrong, i love you i love you i love you- it's all paralyzed, like a shard of ice lodged in his rib cage]

[i-sveikata]

Oh my gosh I loved Dark Rise by C.S. Pacat!! I'm so excited you like it too. If you have any other recs besides that one, please share! Also can't wait for the next chapter too!

yeah omg i LOVED it was so well done and im so keen for the next one. oh sure here's a list of some of my absolute favourite books in no particular order:

all for the game series- nora sakovic

the graceling series- by kristin cashore

mo dao zu shi- by mo xiang tong xiu

the binding- by bridget collins

iron widow- by xiran jay zhao

the folk of the air series- by holly black

the queen's thief series- by megan whalen turner

she who became the sun- by shelley parker chan

six of crows series- by leigh bardugo

red white & royal blue- casey mcquiston

a great and terrible beauty series- by libba bray

warm bodies- by isaac marion

the mediator series & 1800 where are you series- by meg cabot

the song of achilles- by madeline miller

captive prince trilogy- by cs pacat

life of pi- by yann martel

howls moving castle- by diana wynne jones

deltora quest series- by emily rodda

aristotle and dante discover the secrets of the hidden universe- by benjamin alire saenz

educated by tara westover

all our shimmering skies- by trent dalton

the priory of the orange tree- samantha shannon

red queen series- by victoria aveyard

release- by patrick ness

dark places- by gillian flynn

the invisible life of addie la rue- by ve schwab

leviathan series- by scott westerfeld

im sure there's plenty here you already know but some of these i've come back to reread time and time again and others ive only just read and loved. lol but most of these are currently sitting in my bookshelf

[geryone]

Current tbr?

My tbr currently is:

1. Wandering Stars by Tommy Orange

2. Piranesi by Susanna Clarke

3. Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo

4. Keen by Erin Stalcup

I have more books I’m hoping to get to but currently these are the ones I’m hoping to get through in the next week or two

[mermaidsirennikita]

Which romance novels where the heroine is a hustler or con artist?

Hmm, I haven't read that many but I have a few.

Baron by Joanna Shupe--historical, Gilded Age. The heroine is a fake medium who puts on this whole seance show, because she's supporting her younger siblings. The hero (a railroad baron, naturally) is super miffed about it because she's conning a political ally of his, so he sets out to fuck her over but ends up like... fucking her instead. I really liked this one, and it's quite hot.

What A Rogue Desires by Caroline Linde--historical. Heroine is a con artist who dupes the rakish second son guy, and ends up stealing something important from him. He's determined to not look like a total clown (again), especially since his brother left him charge while traveling, so obviously he KIDNAPS her and KEEPS HER CAPTIVE LOL. He's honestly not a very hardcore kidnapper, so they end up falling in love.

The Duke and the Lady in Red by Lorraine Heath--historical, a favorite Lorraine for me. The hero is this totally debauched duke guy who will never love, and he thinks he's seducing an innocent widow when in fact she is conning him. Once he realizes this, he catches her before she leaves, but he is so keen to fuck the shit out of her that he offers her all the money she needs in exchange for a week in his bed. Shockingly, but not because Lorraine, it's quite emotional.

Would I Lie to the Duke by Eva Leigh--historical, has SHADES of this. The heroine is more lying than conning, but she's still duping the hero. She has this family business she's trying to save, and she wants to present it at this sort of like small business expo thing for investors, but she can't get in. So she ends up pretending to be this upper crust lady, and the rakish hero falls for her. It's got a Cinderella vibe.

The Wolf and the Wildflower by Stacy Reid--historical, not so much a con as it is a MASSIVE LIFELONG LONG CON. The heroine was raised disguised as a boy by her mother, and has continued to live this disguise all her life. Her dad has no idea, and the heroine plans on continuing the bit so that she can continue to be a psychiatrist like him. She ends up being summoned to help treat the hero, who was like... shipwrecked and basically lived among wolves for years in the Yukon, I kid you not. WOLF DUKE!!! But because wolf duke has a keen sense of smell and can smell pussy, he immediately knows she's got a vagina, so it's on.

Heartbreaker by Sarah MacLean--historical, and somewhat. Adelaid uses her powers for good now, but she's an accomplished thief. The hero is a stuff duke who is uh, obsessed with her, and because she's known for "breaking" bad matches, they end up on a roadtrip together to stop his brother from making a shitty marriage. Many shenanigans and sex ensues.

[courfeyracs-swordcane]

what is oscu? i've heard you mention it a few times but idk what it is

OOHOO. WELL. BOY HOWDY. The Oible and Shidworm Cinematic Universe. Is theoretically a couple of dumb ass gay detectives me and my friend Muse made up when we lived together via. Doing stupid British accents and walking around. In practice it spiralled A Lot. There’s 30k words of idiot plot in a document somewhere.

The ones you’ve probably heard me talk about (Joel Harry Leigh Alan John-or-Benny*) are only tangentially related to the actual plot (and by tangentially related I mean it’s Vaguely Implied in one line that Detective Oible told his new detective partner about his childhood)(<— he was raised by his older brother Harry) but we got really attached to them. So they have a lot going on.

Strictly speaking their whole plot is about Harry’s WWI Experience and the Friends He Made There Before He Died. In practice there’s a community college au (in which no one dies)(well there’s the loadbearing Leigh Almost Fucking Dies plot point but that’s different he’s fine) that I talk about pretty interchangeably that also includes most of the regular Oible-and-Shidworm cast and also! The Violent Crimes 🥺 au which I think I mentioned in the server the other day bc Lilith sent a bunch of the songs off of it? In which Alan drags John-or-Benny into. uh. well we never really figured out what the crimes are but yk how it is. Evil Alan au where we find out where John-or-Benny (guy who has a very strong moral compass that just points directly at Alan)’s line is for What He Can Justify (spoiler alert: everything up to being rude to his wife).

There’s also a frankly ridiculous amount of little offshoot aus etc but I think that’s the main body of it? Here’s the art I commissioned from @charlie-artlie a couple years ago of the detectives themselves! (Shidworm left Oible right)

*his name is actually Asa but Leigh fucked it up one time in front of everybody and called him ‘John-wait-uh-shit-uh-…..Benny?’ and it stuck.** John-or-Benny Hates This and he’s none too keen on Leigh either.

**He got an award later on for saving Leigh’s life and when they wrote about it in his hometown newspaper they called him John-or-Benny. He goes home and never contacts any of them again (unrelated to the name thing) and tries to pretend the war never happened but his wife has the article framed on the wall and brings it up at his funeral.