#⋆ ／ 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 .

[lowskey]

ྀ  ‧ ₊  ✩  ｡ °  ꒰ @staronline ꒱ . 💌

                       ''  YEAH  ,  OKAY  ,  FINE  ,  WE  MADE  IT.  if  only  somebody  didn't  ,  you  know  ,  mess  up  that  safe's  code  three  times  and  we  had  to  wait  a  whole  five  minutes  to  try  again  ,  we  could've  been  faster.  but  yeah  !  we  made  it.  ''  doha  grins  ,  obviously  teasing  and  wanting  the  other  to  know  that  —  bumping  against  his  side  as  the  odd  pair  make  their  way  towards  his  bus.  dwindling  down  narrow  streets  with  barely  working  street  lanterns  ,  it  gives  the  sensation  they're  stuck  in  yet  another  escape  room. he wouldn't mind figuring it out again with gangjae.  ''  thanks  for  joining  me  though.  i  know  it  was  a  bit  last  minute  ,  but  i  figured  ...  you'd  be  down  for  it.  ''

[meatriarch]

sometimes i think about the flores home back in uvalde, and sometimes i remember the porch light in haunting of hill house ( 'when i flash it twice, its time to come home' ). and how that translate to both carmen & ana both during the searches for maria, and post-house.

how carmen probably had a similar rule for maria & ana growing up - if the light flickers on and off, its time to come home. but also a "rule", so to speak, that she would tell them always : that light is always on for you. no matter where you may go, no matter who you may be with. no matter who you grow into. that light will come on every single night for you. and if you find yourselves lost, out there, in the dark - remember to look for our porch light, and come back home. it will always beckon you home.

how carmen kept that light on for days and weeks and months and years - even after "burying" maria. that light stayed on, every single night, just in case her little girl finally did come back home. how ana ensured that it stayed on back home when carmen grew weaker over time, and how during her time in austin and newt while she joined maria's friends in looking for her, she turned on the light outside maria's apartment door, too - so she had two homes she could go back to. and how, even after carmen eventually passes from her illness, ana continues to leave that porch light on outside. for maria. for mama.

and then how maria, in most of her verses but especially in those where she has a family of her own, does the same. her children know to come inside when the porch light starts to flicker. and they know that so long as that light is on every single night, even when they had grown and moved on into their own lives and families, they are always welcomed back home, too.

[excessdeliquesce]

Motley

𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒 - Motley Banischel Krew 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑠 - 𝗁𝖾/𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 - 𝖼𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝑎𝑔𝑒 - 𝟤0 𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑒 - aasimar-𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝖽𝗁𝖺𝗆𝗉𝗂𝗋 ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 - 6'𝟩 / 200.66 𝖼𝗆 𝑤𝑒𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 - 215 𝗅𝖻𝗌 / 97.52 𝗄𝗀 𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑠 - 𝗉𝖺𝗅𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇 (𝗈𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝖿 𝖽𝖾𝗏𝗈𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇) 𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑔𝑛𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡 - 𝗅𝖺𝗐𝖿𝗎𝗅 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 - acolyte 𝑜𝑐𝑐𝑢𝑝𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 - Adventurer

Other Motley Abouts

tba

tags

𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘩 - honeysuckle : in character 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘫𝘦𝘴𝘶𝘴 - honeysuckle : aesthetics 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘳𝘴 - honeysuckle : musings 𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘦 - honeysuckle : visage 𝘪'𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 - honeysucke : dash games

𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘗𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘑𝘦𝘴𝘶𝘴 𝘣𝘺 𝘋𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘩𝘦 𝘔𝘰𝘥𝘦

𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗹 𝗛𝗼𝗻𝗲𝘆𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗸𝗹𝗲: 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘊𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘔𝘺 𝘍𝘢𝘵𝘦

[hoe4hotchner]

Hi there! Can you write some HotchxColonelReader?! Like the Team comes by morging and sees Hotch, Strauss, Rossi and a woman from the army discussing something at Hotch's office about a case. Then, then discovery that THAT is the Hotchs' wife?! Sorry about my english. :) And Thank yoouuuuuuu!! I love all your work!!!

Absolutely!!! This was so much fun to write, and such a different prompt to what I usually get 🫶 Don't worry about your english ;) i'm not a native speaker 💕😘

Reverence | [A.H]

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘈𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘯 𝘏𝘰𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘹 𝘔𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘊𝘞: 𝘔𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘨𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘱, 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘺𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘴, 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘳, 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘥𝘺𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘴 𝘞𝘊: 1𝘬

           The early morning haze clung to the bullpen, and the rhythmic hum of coffee machines mixed with the muffled clicks of keyboards as the team settled into their desks. The quiet lull of routine was only broken by Morgan’s curious gaze as he caught a glimpse of Hotch’s office from across the room. The blinds were open, revealing an unusual scene - Hotch, Strauss, Rossi, and an unfamiliar woman standing together in what could only be described as a tense, closed-door meeting. The three agents looked on edge compared to her.

           “Hey,” Morgan called out quietly, his voice low with intrigue as he nodded toward the glass window. “What’s going on in there?”

           JJ glanced over from her desk, noticing the woman in uniform standing alongside the senior agents. Her sharp, tailored military attire contrasted starkly against the office's corporate formality. The woman exuded authority; her posture was stiff, shoulders back, chin raised with the kind of self-assurance that comes from years of commanding subordinates.

           “Who is she?” JJ whispered, leaning forward. “She looks like she’s ready to bark out several orders any second now.”

           Morgan folded his arms across his chest, eyebrows raised in amusement. “Definitely military or marines. Look at that posture. You don’t stand like that out of free will unless you’ve seen action.”

           Reid, already drawn into the mystery woman, was fidgeting with the edge of his sweater trying to piece the puzzle together. “Maybe she’s part of an interagency collaboration? It could be something related to national security.”

           As the team watched, the woman turned slightly, her profile sharp and no-nonsense. Her movements were measured, and deliberate - every inch of her seemed to be about precision and control. Even though they were observing her through glass, it felt like her presence dominated the entire office.

           They didn’t have long to speculate before the door to Hotch’s office clicked open. Strauss emerged first, her usual expression in place as she nodded to the agents, followed by Rossi, who sported his signature knowing grin with a quick wink. But it was the woman who truly commanded attention as she stepped into the bullpen. The clack of her polished boots against the floor was precise, each step purposeful and calculated. Her uniform gleamed under the fluorescent lights, the medals and badges catching the glint of rays from the morning sun through the windows. She held her head high, her gaze sweeping the room like a hawk surveying its territory.

           Morgan straightened in his chair as she walked past, eyes wide with respect. “She’s definitely not here for pleasantries.”

           Before anyone could add another word, the woman stopped, her sharp gaze locking onto the team. It wasn’t just a glance - it was the kind of stare that felt like being x-rayed. The whispers, the subtle looks, the quiet gossip - they hadn’t gone unnoticed. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and with a swift motion, she crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze narrowing.

           The air in the room shifted instantly as she addressed them. Her voice, though calm, carried the unmistakable weight of authority. “Is there something you’d like to share with the class?”

           The team froze. Her tone wasn’t loud, but it was firm, resonating with the controlled power of someone who was used to giving orders. It sliced through the air like a knife, leaving a lingering tension in its wake. JJ’s mouth opened slightly, Morgan leaned forward, and even Reid looked uncharacteristically startled.

           “No, ma’am,” they responded in unison, almost instinctively. The words tumbled out, a reflex to the command in her voice. It was as if, for a brief moment, they were recruits in boot camp being called to attention.

           Her eyes lingered on them for a moment, assessing, before a flicker of amusement danced across her features. Her posture remained as strict as before, but there was the faintest hint of a smirk at the corner of her mouth. She nodded once, satisfied with their response, then turned her attention back to Hotch, who stood quietly in the doorway of his office.

           “I’ll be returning to base,” she said, her voice noticeably softer, though still firm. She gave Hotch a look that lingered just a fraction too long for it to be strictly professional.

           “Thank you for coming by,” Hotch replied, his tone warm but restrained. There was something different about the way he spoke to her - his usual clipped authority was replaced by an almost imperceptible tenderness.

           “Of course,” she replied, a small smile tugging at her lips. Then, her voice dropped into something far more intimate. “Aaron.”

           The use of his first name hung in the air, so casual, so familiar, yet it sent shockwaves through the team.

           JJ’s eyes widened. “Did she just call him Aaron?”

           Morgan’s jaw nearly dropped. “Hold up. Did she just—?”

           The woman didn’t wait for their reactions. With a brisk turn, she walked out of the office, her boots echoing down the hallway as she left, her military bearing never faltering. It was only after the door had swung shut behind her that Rossi, who had been watching the whole thing with barely concealed amusement, let out a chuckle.

           “Looks like the cat’s out of the bag,” Rossi said, crossing his arms as he leaned against a desk in the bullpen. “That, ladies and gentlemen, is Hotch’s wife.”

           The team stared at him, slack-jawed.

           “His wife?” JJ managed, her voice unbelieving.

           “Colonel actually,” Rossi clarified, eyes twinkling with mischief. “She’s been in the army for years. Taught Hotch everything he knows about being strict.”

           “She’s tougher than Hotch,” Morgan added, still trying to wrap his head around the revelation.

           “Way tougher,” Rossi said, winking at the team.

           “That was… something else.” Emily managed to say through her disbelief.

           They turned to look at Hotch, before he returned to his office, his expression unreadable as he resumed his work. For a brief second, though, as his gaze flicked toward the team, they could see the faintest smile - a private, almost imperceptible curve of his lips.

           “You never asked,” he said simply, allowing a rare smile to tug at the corners of his lips before turning his attention back to his office and paperwork, leaving the team still gaping.

[quartervois]

tag drop : E D I T S

[crispy-armpit]

✧ 𝖇𝖎𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖋𝖆𝖓 ✧

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ʀᴏᴄᴋꜱᴛᴀʀ x ɪᴅᴏʟ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

☆⋆｡🎧𖦹 °✩ 🎸⋆⸜♩ - PART 2

⭒ 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘰𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘶𝘮𝘱 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘶𝘱-𝘢𝘯𝘥-𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳-𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘋𝘦𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘴. 𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘩; 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺.

⭒ 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵: 𝘨𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, (𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘥)𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧-𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘮/𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 (𝘯𝘰𝘵 on 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳), 𝘬𝘯𝘪𝘧𝘦, 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥, 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘶𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴, 𝘫𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘰𝘯𝘦-𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘺, 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘮 + 𝘴𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘮(?)

⭒ 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 1,420

⭒ a/n: my first story! hope this is satisfactory :) sorry if my writing is difficult to understand or cringy!!

will you venture down this path?

every few months your manager tells you to attend a celebrity fundraiser gala. 2 years ago you'd never know that these events were only breeding grounds for filthy scandals. now here you are, standing in the corners of a dark ballroom with stars dangling from the ceiling.

you are an idol, the embodiment of purity and song. another puppet forced to take on a false persona of endless joy, most would say. but you? you actually loved the spotlight. to you, that persona is your truth. you bathe in the attention and love of others, you live for it.

so why weren't you with the crowd? why not be in the centre of it all? it's because he was there. he was stealing the place you've shed blood, sweat, and tears for with such ease. effortlessly charming everyone even with that poker face. Deimos. a miracle rockstar who rose in fame shortly after your debut. instantly landing himself in the top #5 leaderboard after the release of his first album.

you were both from the same agency. you've seen him around the company building a couple of times, more frequently during your early pre-debut years. you'd pass brief glances at each other whenever you crossed paths in the hallways or practice rooms. you couldn't understand where your anger and envy emerged from despite never talking to him before.

maybe it was his obnoxious grin?

the fact he surpassed your fame within a shorter time?

his voice that hypnotises even you?

or the copious amount of money he sends during your ig live, begging you to notice the anonymous user?

he had shorter hair back then, dyed a different colour. now he has more accessories, a bigger build, longer hair, and dull eyes that only seemed to brighten whenever you catch him staring at you. you noticed he still stood at around 6'5 (195 cm), even taller with his black platform boots.

you'd try to send telepathic brain frequencies and (not so) intimidating glares at him, seeing if his blank face would falter (it didn't). instead, it made him glance in your direction. your frustration increases, and you blow a raspberry at him without thinking clearly... his reaction? an amused smirk.

instant embarrassment rises to your head. unable to handle the atmosphere inside the room, you immediately run out into the hallway. your brain begins to fuzz up, and you're not thinking clearly- you don't know if it's from the alcohol or the pure shame of blowing a raspberry at him. what are you? a preschooler?

blind to your surroundings, you don't notice the hulking figure walking towards you at full speed. calming yourself, you turn back to the ballroom to end the night. only to bump your face into a sturdy chest, that was not so covered by the tight, black button-up shirt of your rival (his nips were barely out).

you profusely apologise to the stranger until you look up to meet the heterochromatic eyes of Deimos. black and gold with slits, like a feline. and like a feline, his presence was threatening. this was the closest you've ever been to him and you can't help but think that people are blind. why do people crowd around him like he's an oasis? the way his eyes lit up a little too bright, and his face contorts into that of a devoted lover brought no comfort to you.

why does he look like that?

"y/n," he finally pants out, "y/n... you're looking at me."

what the fuck?

"i'm your biggest fan."

backing up uncomfortably, you slowly process his words before replying.

"...you are?"

if Deimos had a tail, it'd be wagging like crazy right now.

"yeah... i've been a fan since your performance at the spring festival. not sure if you remember but..." he trails off.

the spring festival? i don't remember going to any spri- holy shit.

3 years ago. you sang a duet at the town's spring festival with a friend, back then you weren't even a trainee yet. so how coincidental is it that the Deimos was watching you from somewhere in the crowd? that you both ended up in the same agency?

wait. does this mean.... Deimos adores me? as a fan? my fan?

this was too good to be true. your rival, the hottest star among stars, absolutely smitten by you? claiming to be your fan? your ego has never been higher. you decide to indulge him with a conversation.

surprisingly, the conversation was deeply meaningful. you found common interests with him- you shared favourite songs, media, and hobbies... "woman after my own heart," he snickers. soon, any past resentment towards him just.. washes away. gone, buried.

you naturally gravitate towards each other, like the earth and the apple from a tree, a pull. how long has it been since you've enjoyed talking to someone like this? has your bitter envy prevented you from forming a raw friendship with him all this time?

it feels surreal. he asks you for an autograph to commemorate the celebration of a blooming friendship and you agree, asking him if he had a pen and paper. he chuckles and says no, opting to whisk you away into an empty room. not creepy at all.

inside the room, he sits you down on the bed and searches his pockets for an object. you grow curious until he unsheathes out... a combat knife. shitshitshit- he's going to kill me! i knew this was suspicious-

he casually offers you the blade.

"use this." he says while untucking his shirt.

you stare at him as he had grown a second head, "...what?"

he nonchalantly replies while displaying his lower right abdomen, "to write? y'know, your autograph?"

it's official. you were absolutely fucking terrified of Deimos. he tells you to carve out your name on his body as if he was asking for a pack of ketchup at mcdonalds!! you were getting queasy, mind running though all the possible scenarios and options to get out of this.

"you not backing up now are you, songbird?"

his eyes bear holes into your body.

"c'mon, you can't leave me in the edge me like this... just...."

he gently grabs your wrist that held the knife, carefully guiding it to his abdomen. being touched so softly by his scarred, calloused hands made your breathing ragged. he lovingly rubs stars into your forearms as he lightly plunges the tip of the knife into his skin.

you could stab him. you could stab his knife deep into his chest and run away. but what would that mean for you in the future? if you got caught, your career would crumble, sentenced to jail, humiliated and resented by the public. and if you did get away with it, guilt would eat away at your blood-soaked hands forever.

Deimos notices your visible discomfort and tenderly caresses your hair down to your cheeks, wiping away tears you didn't know you had shed. "shh shh... i'm sorry, so so sorry, songbird. you're so kind for not wanting to hurt me... i'll never ask again after this, alright? claim me."

he was so charming. even in this situation.

he presses the knife further into his lower abdomen, drawing blood. you gasp, stuttering out your words "...just my initial, okay?" you look up, he seems disappointed but gives you a genuine smile and nods. you put more pressure onto the hilt of the knife this time, his skin bleeds, not enough to be fatal but enough to scar.

you place your other hand on his toned waist, and you can feel him shivering as the ends of his hair trickle the crown of your head. you finish carving out your initial, dropping the knife on the ground and backing up to look at your work.

it was messy, the blood dripped down to his pants and you swore you felt your heart get... t i n g l e s? he proudly admires your work, pulling down his shirt back in place, still untucked.

Deimos kneels down at the edge of the bed, taking your hands and cupping them on his cheeks. turning his head to tenderly kiss your palm and inhale in the scent.

he looks up at you adoringly with the widest smile on his face, "thank you, songbird. it's very pretty." pulling himself closer to your face, you exchange an unexpectedly passionate kiss, in which your reciprocate. hungry for any form of comfort.

rival-turned-biggest-fan, Deimos smirks into the kiss.

the gravitational pull.

[qwimchii]

𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘴 (pt 2) — 𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘙𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺

pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 pt 5

𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘹 𝘤𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯!𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 —𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦 𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘴 𝘧𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦. 𝘸𝘤 — 3.1k

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 — 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴/𝘵��𝘨𝘴 — 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘸𝘸 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘳𝘳𝘯𝘯𝘯, 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘶𝘮𝘢 & 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘦𝘴, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦𝘯, 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘹𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘵𝘺(𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘭𝘮𝘢𝘰), 𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳

you left that meeting without exchanging a word with Simon. he didn’t seem to mind.

by the time you had left, he was swarmed by the girls at the meeting, all curious and wanting his attention. Maya included, much to Sarah’s amusement. not to yours at all.

the rest of the meeting had been a drone of done anything fun for the past week? have you set any new routines and practices? have you been utilizing any constructive coping strategies we learned about in your routines?

that was usually your favorite part about the meeting. with Simon’s presence a steaming reek right in your peripheral, no matter how much you tried to ignore him, you couldn’t get out more than a choked i’ve been good.

although, in comparison, Kate could barely coax a word from Simon. most of his responses came in the form of a blink, a shrug, or shifting in that rickety, creaking chair.

walking down the familiar road to the church, this time mid-day, but the air just as cutting and cold, you pulled out your phone to mull over the brief text conversation between yourself and Simon.

-1pm tmrw church

-Sure.

and that was that. Kate had practically strangled you over a phone call to actually text the thing and agree on a place and time to meet to plan for the upcoming fall projects.

your eyes ran over the phone screen again.

Sure.

you rolled your eyes. even that response felt arrogant and asshole-ish.

you knew your mind, in all its immaturity, was twisting the text and pulling it apart, trampling it, and spitting it back out. you knew because it was something Kate chided you about time and time again.

you couldn’t find it in you to care.

you pushed through the doors of the church, entering the chapel, descending down the stairs, to find Simon brooding by the double-doors of the meeting room.

he was leaned back against the faded walls, donning that all-black attire, hood up and masked, earbuds in and eyes closed. he looked virtually the same as he had only several days ago, save for the black baseball cap peeking out of his hood.

as you neared, you swallowed hard, stomach flurrying erratically. you probably would’ve turned tail and ditched him if his eyes didn’t snap open, pushing off the wall and arms stiff by his side.

you stopped when there was an awkwardly marginal distance between the two of you.

“hi.”

“hi.”

silence.

you fumbled with your phone with a sigh, scrolling through the document Kate shared with you, squinting at the screen, and wholly ignoring Simon’s dark eyes on you.

every year, the city hosts a community-led halloween festival for children with table events, performers, music, mini-haunted houses, and more. it stretches for a couple blocks and wraps around the church—where you and Simon had been assigned pumpkin carving and costume coordination by Kate.

“so we’ve got pumpkin carving and—”

“costume coordination,” he finished, hands clenched by his sides. you eyed his gloves curiously, then roamed up to his masked face. 

with a bitterness, you realized he kind of looked like a serial killer. but, biting down on your tongue, you chose not to speak on it, only pocketed your phone with a nod.

“right. costumes this way,” you gestured down the hallway, and Simon fell into step just a few strides behind you.

to fill the terse silence, you fumbled around for small talk. 

“so you got a day job?”

if he had agreed to meet at one o’clock on a weekday, you assumed his military job might be something with a peculiar irregularity, much to your chagrin. you had hoped he would say no to the meeting.

but he just shook his head. “i’m on leave. been here since last week.”

your heart soared, and you bit down on your lip to smother a smile as you opened the door at the end of the hallway. “does that mean you’ll be going back soon?”

flicking on the flights, the storage room flooded with an artificial fluorescent glare. you reached for a familiar storage container beneath a table covered with dusty white sheets. hauling it towards you, you paused when you realized Simon hadn’t followed you into the room.

you looked over your shoulder. he stared back at you from where his massive frame crowded the doorway, hands clenched by his sides.

you swallowed hard. you were alone in this church with Simon. just you and a man.

and he was blocking the only exit.

an alarming flash ran through you—hot and sharp and leaving you breathless.

“did i do something?”

you stood, steadying your labored breath like Kate had taught you.

“yes.”

he stared at you for a long moment before huffing out, eyes flashing as he stepped into the room and away from the entrance. you exhaled, rough and shaky.

that burn of his prying gaze built a familiar anger in your lungs, and you eyed him with narrowed eyes. “what?”

he shook his head, bending down for a box beside yours. “nothing.”

you cocked your head. “something funny?”

“no.” he rose to his full height, a box between his hands, and head craned as he looked down at you. dark eyes murky and quiet.

your hands balled into fists. he really was massive.

“you’re just bad at lying.”

your brow furrowed and he gestured with a dip of his head towards your stance, and your gaze followed his, down to the stiffness of your body and your hands clenched in your pockets.

you blinked. when had you done that?

immediately, you jerked them out of your pockets and smoothed your clammy hands down your thighs.

“let’s just—” you cleared your throat, turning back to the boxes, “—let’s just get this over with and leave.”

you could see Simon’s stare from your peripheral. “alright.”

carrying the boxes down the hallway, his footsteps those eerie quiet thuds behind you, you turned to push through the door with your back and strode to settle the box at the center of the floor, rummaging through the contents and spreading them out over the carpet. you picked up a little black number draped with longer, jagged pieces along its hems. a child size witch’s dress.

Simon settled beside you a comfortable distance away, watching your movement with a careful eye.

“okay so—” you turned the dress over in your hands, inspecting its light wear and tear, “—i’ll take half of the costumes to sew. you take the other half to work on and next meeting we’ll—”

the deep timbre of his voice cut you off. “sew?”

the words died in your throat, head whipping to Simon who held up a toddler’s pumpkin costume that was dwarfed by the size of his hands.

you struggled for words, choking out, “you don’t know how to sew?”

his eyes met yours. “not clothing.”

flabbergasted, you pressed, “and Kate assigned you to costume coordination?”

he nodded, beginning to pull out his phone and show you Kate’s document you presumed, but you waved a hand at him, a new berth of stress weighing down your shoulders.

“no, no it’s fine just…” you held your forehead, jaw clenched tight. “i’ll teach you.”

speaking it was like a death sentence, and you only wallowed in your own self-pity. how could Kate do this to you?

everyone assigned costume coordination had to know how to sew. it was part of the requirements. 

unless Kate pulled some strings.

you watched Simon spread out the costumes over the carpet like you had.

“did Kate put you up to this?”

Simon didn’t even pause to acknowledge you, picking at the garments until they were in neat rows.

“no.”

“so you joined the group… on your own accord?” the idea of it was staggering. Simon had looked downright trodden when sharing about himself with the group—not giving up much more than that he watched tv sometimes and read books sometimes. which, in your opinion, was what most people did in their freetime.

“not exactly,” he said, voice gruff, and you eyed him for a long moment before sighing, careful not to push him further.

you reached over for the costumes of his that needed the most attention. “i’ll take the most beat up ones—”

he ignored you, eyes trained on the clothes. “no. we’re a team. i can pull my weight.”

a bitter taste flooded your mouth. team.

“right, well, there are lots of youtube tutorials.”

he just nodded, gathering up the items and throwing them back in the box.

you heaved a sigh. “i’m assuming you don’t have sewing supplies?”

“i can buy some.”

you shook your head. “no need. next meeting i can bring some of mine. i have extra.”

“thought you said we needed to work on them by next meeting?”

his question was pure but it still set that irked fire rolling through your stomach. shoving the costumes back into your box, you mourned his attention to detail. you always thought he was only half-listening.

with your long silence, he offered, “i’ll buy some supplies.”

that ugly feeling trickled down to your chest. guilt. regret. “no just…”

you screwed your eyes shut, like couldn’t believe you were saying this.

“i live just down the block. just come to my place now and i can give you some if you really want to get a head start.”

you ignored his curious gaze as you picked up the box, and trudged your way out of the meeting room.

“alright.”

he followed you.

the entire walk to your apartment was silent.

a creeping awkward, muddled feeling prickled along your spine. it was almost unbearable, but the crunch of fallen leaves underfoot was more comforting than scrambling around for small talk.

arms beginning to ache with the effort of carrying the box of costumes, you felt a burst of relief at the sight of your brick red apartment complex just ahead. your steps quickened now, and you didn’t bother to see if Simon was following you closely or not. from the sound of his slow breath just beyond your shoulder, with a shudder, you could assume that he was.

you hopped up the steps, putting down the box and fumbling around in your bag for the keys to shove them into the old lock, scrambling around with half-frozen hands till it gave way. you stepped inside, not waiting to hold the door open for him as you rubbed your arms with a shudder. the heat blasted your numb face in the entrance hall, the white radiator working furiously by the door.

“cold?”

you jolted, turning sharply to him as he closed the door, looking completely content after walking a block in such low temperatures. maybe, you were just being overdramatic. or maybe it was because Simon was wearing a good couple more layers than you were.

“yeah,” you said, “are you not?”

he just shrugged. “got used to it from work.”

you found that strangely ominous, so you just gave him a curt nod in reply, picking up the box of costumes and turning to walk up the creaky stairs to the upper floor of the old building. you strode down the carpeted hall till you reached a faded red door.

your jerked your head to it, mumbling awkwardly, this is my place, before struggling with the keys again to open it. strangely, your heart thudded against your rib cage during the movements, prickling at the thought of his dark eyes watching you.

when you pushed the heavy door open, shoving your foot in the crack, you took one look inside and decided that you didn’t want Simon stepping anywhere near your home. especially not if you were alone. especially not if you were alone with a man.

“uh…” you trailed off, mouth opening and closing, then turning to him, leaning against the wall casually, then looked away, unable to make eye contact.

he shifted in your peripheral. “i’ll wait out here.”

you almost jolted at that, an airy bubble of shock breaking into your words as you gave him a wide-eyed stare. “are you sure?”

he nodded and you mumbled a slow apology, stepping inside your apartment with the box of costumes and letting the front door glide shut. that was… strange.

with a hefty sigh, you put down the box on the kitchen table, brushing the feeling away, and stripped yourself of your jacket, moving into your bedroom.

you pulled open the drawers of the storage containers on your desk, shuffling around for extra sewing supplies that you could spare and shoving them all into an extra bag that you didn’t use anymore. that bag happened to be an old, pink hello kitty zip-up pouch from middle school.

you hoped Simon wouldn’t be too irked by it as you zipped it up, then chided yourself for caring if he felt mad at you at all.

at that, you paused at your desk, fingers fiddling with the zipper as your mind whizzed through some thoughts. Simon hadn’t made any unnecessary advancements towards you. he hadn’t waltzed into your home like it was your own. he hadn’t pushed your boundaries when you obviously displayed them. he didn’t dump the workload on you because Kate had given him an assignment out of his skillset. 

he wasn’t even that talkative. you couldn’t even imagine him as being touchy. in fact, he was a good four feet from you at almost all times.

except when you were in that church basement.

you steadied yourself with deep, slow inhales, just like Kate had taught you. was this what Kate meant by trying to get better? forcing you to work with a man who she knew wouldn’t cross your boundaries?

and what did that mean for Simon? did he have something to work out over being near… women?

your support group specialized in a range of things. mostly, victims of sexual trauma. though, not all girls in the group came for that reason.

there was a bitter taste in your mouth. for some reason, it hadn’t dawned on you that Simon might’ve come, albeit seemingly dragged along by Kate, to the group for the same reason as you. 

as a victim of sexual trauma.

you cursed Kate and all her conspiring, reverse-psychology, psychic plans, quickly striding from your bedroom to the front door. you paused at the entrance, hand twitching over the knob, before twisting the door open with an apology already on your lips.

the words died in your throat at the sight of your new, brutish neighbor just steps from the door, conversing with Simon in an excited, low voice.

when he noticed you, a smile bloomed across his face. “hey, lass! how’re ye doin’?”

you almost withered. this was exactly the kind of men you avoided. talkative and touchy.

you cracked the door open a little wider, but not enough so that he could pull you into a friendly hug like he had done a couple days ago without warning. the memory of it had you in shivers behind the shield of the door.

Simon stood with crossed arms a step away from your neighbor, eyeing you with a dark curiosity that you chose to ignore.

“Johnny,” you chewed out, skipping any formalities. though it didn’t matter, because no matter how rude you could get, the scot would beam at you anyways.

“i was just talkin’ to yer friend here,” he said, slapping Simon on the back, who didn’t even flinch. “we’re coworkers! who would’ve guessed?”

he laughed, long and hearty, and you grimaced. “great.”

snaking a hand out of the crack of your front door, you handed the hello kitty pouch to Simon. the black mask shrouded half his face, but from the way his brows pinched together, eyes flitting up in a hard glance before glaring back down at the pink, worn thing, you thought he seemed irked. swallowing, you felt an ounce of guilt as Johnny watched the whole interaction with glee.

“i ken ye’ were a hello kitty guy, Ghost.”

“fuckin’ hell, Johnny,” he grumbled under his breath, snatching up the pouch from your hand.

you almost felt bad as Simon shoved it into the pocket of his sweatshirt, feeling as though you may have opened up a slew of new ways for Johnny to poke at Simon.

he turned sharply on his heel, looking like he was escaping the conversation just as much as you wanted to right now but—

you pushed open the door a tad wider, knocking into Johnny carelessly, who blundered back with a surprised oof. 

“wait!”

Simon slowly turned, peering at you from over his shoulder.

you hesitated, knowing Johnny’s eyes were picking apart the situation with an intense scrutiny that made you feel like shrinking into dust.

“i…”

you thought back to how you had felt a few minutes ago—the apology extracted from the simmering guilt in your gut. you looked over Simon, the tall, muscular strength of him, and felt something dark and wet twist your heart.

maybe not guilt, but sympathy.

the words of apology were on your lips, but you could see Johnny leaning forward into your peripheral, so instead you said, “are you busy tomorrow?”

he blinked at you. “no.”

“do you live far from here?”

“ten minutes by walk.”

not far at all, you realized, with a breath of relief. “there’s a cafe on the corner of smith and wellerstation. i work till six. i can teach you how to sew then.”

he just stared at you. “you don’t have to.”

i want to, you wanted to say.

but you never worked well with words or apologies, and after observing Simon, just in the short time you had met him, he seemed to share somewhat of the same qualities.

“just be there,” you shot out quickly with an annoyed flush, and then slammed the door shut.

standing in your apartment for a moment, a silence filling the air, you deliberated before shoving the door open again, nearly missing Johnny by a hair.

he startled when you stuck your head out to peer at him.

“have a good evening,” you snapped, and he opened his mouth to say something, maybe shocked because you had never taken such formality to be nice to him before, but you shut the door in his face before he could get anything out.

finally, at peace and alone in your own apartment, you trudged over to grab the box of costumes and hauled it by your couch before stepping into your bedroom to snatch up the bag of your sewing supplies.

you sank onto the couch with a deep sigh, fiddled with the remote to switch on an episode of that new k-drama on netflix. 

restitching the fraying seams of the little witch dress, eyes flitting between the fabric in your hands and the tv screen, as much as you bit back the thoughts with your lower lip trapped beneath your teeth, your mind drifted far away to think of the man you’d be teaching to sew tomorrow.

this chapter is pretty short and not interesting imo, but just wait till the next one oml 😵‍💫 shit goes down

wait also please ignore the gaping, massive plot holes in this story. half of it doesn’t really make any sense but likkkeeeee Simon x halloween x therapy support group had me in a chokehold… it’s giving the faults in our stars or smth but i love writing this au

i say that: 1. kate has retired/stopped working in military 2. i really dont know if this is taking place in america or uk bc in my head its very much america w like halloween type stuff and all the minor characters are american in my brain so pls just ignore everything that does not make sense ty 😇 3. oh also i like to think that johnny moved near simon just to terrorize him 😇 4. ok anyways ive been rambling on for so long i hope you enjoy this part!! 💞

taglist: @kenma-izhu @actuallyhiswife@froggielottiee @neenieweenie @delaynew @ilovehyperfixating @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @tomorrowseverything @moonlqths@ivybeeloved @babygirl-riley @keiva1000 @arminarlertssword @crowbird @jasonloveclub @karurururu

@embers-of-alluring @newsies-pape-girl @suhmie @amberpanda99 @mystsee @cosmoscoffeee @hunterofhonor @wawuwe @kunikku @corvusmorte @hearts4sky @aloudplace @justletmelivethanks @shadowdaddysposts @leclercdream @ayanokomu @thedevillovesflowers @moonstonedeluluera

[dullwaterlily]

🌷 𝐦𝐚𝐩𝐢 𝐥𝐞𝐨́𝐧 🌷 ~ 𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘴

~ 𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 ~ 𝐛𝐲 @uniquedinosaurdreamland

𝘮𝘢𝘱𝘪 𝘭𝘦𝘰́𝘯 𝘹 𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘥 𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 , 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

~ 𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘣𝘢𝘨 ~ 𝐛𝐲 @woso-dreamzzz

𝘮𝘢𝘱𝘪 𝘭𝘦𝘰́𝘯 𝘹 𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘥 𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘯 𝘹 𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 , 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵 + 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

~ 𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘣𝘢𝘨 𝘐𝘐 ~ 𝐛𝐲 @woso-dreamzzz

𝘮𝘢𝘱𝘪 𝘭𝘦𝘰́𝘯 𝘹 𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘥 𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘯 𝘹 𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 , 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵 + 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

~ 𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 ~ 𝐛𝐲 @flem17ng

𝘮𝘢𝘱𝘪 𝘭𝘦𝘰́𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 , 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵 , 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

~ 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 - 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴 (𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯 ) ~ 𝐛𝐲 @kamotecue

𝘮𝘢𝘱𝘪 𝘭𝘦𝘰́𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 , 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘵 !!

~ 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 ~ 𝐛𝐲 @beauwlwbarca

𝘮𝘢𝘱𝘪 𝘭𝘦𝘰́𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 , 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

~ 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 ~ 𝐛𝐲 @girlgenius1111

𝘮𝘢𝘱𝘪 𝘭𝘦𝘰́𝘯 𝘹 𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘥 𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 , 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

~ 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘵 ~ 𝐛𝐲 @fcwoso

𝘮𝘢𝘱𝘪 𝘭𝘦𝘰́𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 , 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

~ 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 ~ 𝐛𝐲 @samkerrworshipper

𝘮𝘢𝘱𝘪 𝘭𝘦𝘰́𝘯 𝘹 𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘥 𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 , 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 + 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵

~ 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 ~ 𝐛𝐲 @skipper1331

𝘮𝘢𝘱𝘪 𝘭𝘦𝘰́𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 , 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 , 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘩𝘰𝘭

~ 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 ~ 𝐛𝐲 @wileys-russo

𝘮𝘢𝘱𝘪 𝘭𝘦𝘰́𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 , 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

~ 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘴 ~ 𝐛𝐲 @patriwoso

𝘮𝘢𝘱𝘪 𝘭𝘦𝘰́𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 , 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵

~ 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘢 ~ 𝐛𝐲 @honeys-hotties

𝘮𝘢𝘱𝘪 𝘭𝘦𝘰́𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 , 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

~ 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘦𝘴 ~ 𝐛𝐲 @futfemfantasies

𝘮𝘢𝘱𝘪 𝘭𝘦𝘰́𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 , 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

~ 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 , 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘴 ~ 𝐛𝐲 @yourwosogirly

𝘮𝘢𝘱𝘪 𝘭𝘦𝘰́𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 , 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵 , 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨

~ 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬 ~ 𝐛𝐲 @wileys-russo

𝘮𝘢𝘱𝘪 𝘭𝘦𝘰́𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 , 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

~ 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 ~ 𝐛𝐲 @catmiemy

𝘮𝘢𝘱𝘪 𝘭𝘦𝘰́𝘯 𝘹 𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 , 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 , 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵 , 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘤

~ 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐𝘐 ~ 𝐛𝐲 @catmiemy

𝘮𝘢𝘱𝘪 𝘭𝘦𝘰́𝘯 𝘹 𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 , 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵 + 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 , 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘤

~ 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐𝘐𝘐 ~ 𝐛𝐲 @catmiemy

𝘮𝘢𝘱𝘪 𝘭𝘦𝘰́𝘯 𝘹 𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 , 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵 + 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

~ 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘯𝘪𝘤 ~ 𝐛𝐲 @lw6-woso

𝘮𝘢𝘱𝘪 𝘭𝘦𝘰́𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 , 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

~ 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘶𝘱 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦𝘴 ~ 𝐛𝐲 @onlyhereforthestories

𝘮𝘢𝘱𝘪 𝘭𝘦𝘰́𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 , 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

~ 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 ~ 𝐛𝐲 @woso-dreamzzz

𝘮𝘢𝘱𝘪 𝘭𝘦𝘰́𝘯 𝘹 𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘥 𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘯 𝘹 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 , 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

~ 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘐 ~ 𝐛𝐲 @woso-dreamzzz

𝘮𝘢𝘱𝘪 𝘭𝘦𝘰́𝘯 𝘹 𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘥 𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘯 𝘹 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 ,

~ 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘐𝘐 ~ 𝐛𝐲 @woso-dreamzzz

𝘮𝘢𝘱𝘪 𝘭𝘦𝘰́𝘯 𝘹 𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘥 𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘯 𝘹 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 ,

𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 !!

💐💐

[dublinskeetz]

could you maybe do a fic (don’t worry if you can’t 🫶🏼) with eli or bobby maybe enemies to lovers and the person is the band’s photographer or is on keys 🤍🤍

𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐞

hii ofc, i wasnt sure if u wanted a smau or written soo i sort of did both since the reader is their photographer, hope u like it!! this is my first tumblr fic so im still getting used to how to work the app lollll, sorry if u don't like it but pls give me ur thoughts so i can learn to improve JAJA

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 — 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘺 𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘻 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘶𝘥𝘨𝘦𝘴

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 — 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘵𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘣𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵, 𝘣𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘧, ��𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘺'𝘴 #1 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴

𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 — 𝘣𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘺 𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘻 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

yourusername

liked by ryanmcmahon_15 and others

yourusername dropping these flicks in honor of my fav boys (and bobby ig) letting me join them on tour to take cute pics of them 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

view all 2389 comments

joshjenkinson_ WOOO after months of begging

yourusername a little begging doesnt hurt when i have to spend months with devils spawn joshjenkinson_ bobby loves u dw bobbyskeetz why do you automatically think shes talking about me bobbyskeetz and i do not

bobbyskeetz so thrilled to have you.

inhalerfan1 wtf why is she always hating on bobby he does nothing wrong to her!!! how about you leave and like never speak to him again.🙄🙄

inhalerfan2 saying this doesnt make bobby want u any more! bobbyskeetz how about you leave her alone? ryanmcmahon_15 aw look at u protecting her

elijahhewson the crowd erupts in cheers

yourusername by crowd u mean u, josh, and ryan LMAFO elijahhewson and bobby he just wont admit it

inhalerfan300 something abt the boys getting their pics taken by a sexy woman makes them even sexier tbh

liked by elijahhewson, ryanmcmahon_15 and 30 others

inhalerfan11 fuc the guys I WANT U

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"say, cheese!"

your lens shuttering was heard throughout the tour bus, trying to take candid, but not candid at the same time, pictures of the boys. tour was great, amazing even. you felt at peace when taking pictures of the band in their natural element. whether it be on stage, at a pub, or even just at time when it was just one on one hangouts. except, for bobby

bobby skeetz, you didn't know what you had done to make the boy dislike you from the moment he laid eyes on you. maybe it was your personality, the possibility to get on with everyone around you, happiness radiating off of you. or perhaps it was one night stand you had with him 4 years ago. but you chose to pick the former as the reason.

it didn't matter what you tried, his anger, regret, or whatever he felt never seemed to ease.

despite telling them to smile, bobby still had a grim look on his face, clearly wanting to be anywhere else but in front of you. rolling your eyes, you lowered your camera, dismissing the guys from the lens.

as the boys one by one retreated to their own areas, bobby stuck sitting in front of you as you placed your equipment away. you could feel his eyes watching you as you worked, and you found he often did this. though you could never force yourself to look back up at him, knowing his eyes would probably be full of dislike.

"is there something you need robert," you asked him, getting closer and closer to being fed up with his acts.

"no, just thinking."

"of?"

"why we would need another photographer when we already had lewis."

rolling you eyes, why do i even bother, thinking to yourself.

hiding behind a door was josh, ryan, and eli, silently watching the two of you interact. "i bet you they get together by the end of the tour," ryan spoke.

"oh you are so on McMahhon."

"dunno, maybe you should ask your mates. you didn't seem to complain too much when they asked me, repeatedly," you argued.

there was a thick tension in the air, these petty fights between the two of you were normal at this point, and despite your attempts to be professional, his pettiness was starting to get to you.

in reality, you didn't mind bobby at all, in fact, you felt a pull towards him. but ever since that mistake, that for some reason he can't seem to forget, he has made his presence unbareable.

"why must you make everything so difficult," you sighed, frustration evident in your tone as you continued to pack away your equipment.

"i'm not the one making things difficult, thats your speciality, isn't it," he snapped back. there was a mix of annoyance and indifference in his expression as he starred at you. "or maybe its the fact that you love to pretend nothing happened."

"what the hell are you talking about," you spoke, your patience so close to breaking.

bobby scoffed, "oh please, you know exactly what i'm talking about. four years ago when you left me!"

there was a heavy silence between the two of you, could he seriously be holding onto the past for that long? was this really the reason why he hated you so much? you can admit, you have your regrets on the way those things played out, but what were you supposed to do? act like sleeping with him didn't hurt you in ways you didn't even know you could hurt? the way he easily uttered those words to you, this doesn't mean anything, does it? it pained you, so really, what were you supposed to do?

but you were never really good with your emotions, so frustration bubbled inside you, "fine, you want to hold onto the past? go ahead, keating. but don't act like i'm the only one at fault here."

your heated exchange echoed throughout the bus, leaving an uncomfortable silence. but meanwhile, the other three boys exchanged knowing looks.

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yourusername

liked by elijahhewson and others

yourusername tours almost ova so heres some flicks to prepare u for the drought

view all 2930 comments

elijahhewson pay up ryan

ryanmcmahon_15 ITS NOT OVER YET SHUT UP yourusername meaning?? elijahhewson NOTHING ryanmcmahon_15 NOTHING

inhalerfan11 NOOOO

inhalerfan23 god i have seen what u have done for others

trumanblack come take some flicks for us?

elijahhewson no joshjenkinson_ no bobbyskeetz shes all yours mate ryanmcmahon_15 rob shut up before i leak some information that i find very important. bobbyskeetz YOU WOULD NEVER joshjenkinson_15 TRY US bobbyskeetz JOSH NOT YOU TOO yourusername OIII all of u. out my comment section

inhalerdublin twas an honor having u with us, and for the rest of the tours!🤗🤗

inhalerdublin whos us? yourusername robert get out

inhalerfan100 why do i get the gut sense that her and bobby do not like each other?

inhaler203 i dont think so, i was at their last shows and he complete heart eyes for her liked by ryanmcmahon_15 and joshjenkinson_ inhaler203 RYAN JOSH WHAT DO U KNOW inhaler100 their my enemies to lovers trope

oliviarodrigo im going on tour soon babes if u need a job😉😉

yourusername omg.

inhaler45 im living for this comment section

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throughout the remaining of the tour, there was an uncomfortable tension between you and bobby, and with the last dates coming up, you weren't sure if you wanted to come back.

but then again, you were confused.

after your last blow with the bassist, there was a peace between the two of you, if thats what you could even call it. he no longer took every opportunity to be petty, in fact, you hadn't spoken a word to the man since.

but you saw the tweets, the comments, and even noticed the other three members of the band acting funny when the two of you were in close proximity. the possible thought that bobby felt anything to you besides utter dislike, felt impossible.

the group of you were lounging around before the boys had to go onstage, and you could still feel bobby's eyes piercing at you from behind. despite the other's chatter, there was still an underlying discomfort from the two of you. his gaze lingered on you, and looking back towards him, you noticed there was a mixture of frustration and something else.

attempting to break the silence, you sighed in defeat, "what's wrong with you now, rob?"

there was a moment of hesitation on his part, jaw clenching, "it's nothing," he muttered, but his tone said otherwise.

"doesn't seem like it," you countered. you were tired of fighting with him, you just wanted peace for the remainder of the tour. "look, tour is almost over and can we at least try to-"

but he interrupted you before you could even finish, "try to what? pretend like everything is okay," his voice laced with bitterness, "like nothing happened?"

you sighed in defeat, feeling an oncoming argument brewing, "you cannot keep dwelling on the past rob," you pleaded, trying to keep your voice steady, "what happened was a mistake, for you," you emphasized, "and for me."

"a mistake," he scoffed, "you're acting like it meant nothing, like i meant nothing."

there was a clear tone of hurt and resentment in his voice, his words cutting deeper than you could've imagined, "that is not fair rob," you whispered, looking away from his eyes. trying to avoid his gaze, you noticed the room had cleared, the three boys' chatter no longer being background noise to your conversation.

those little shits.

bobby noticed your avoidance, "you just left, without a word," he continued, his voice filled with an ache that mirrored your own. "do you have any idea how much that hurt?"

the weight of his accusations hung heavily in the air, did he really have no idea of how much he hurt you too? how much you look back to that night and wish things were normal between the two of you.

"it wasn't easy for me either," you confessed, voice barley audible. "but what did you expect me to do? especially after what you said."

the atmosphere became thick with emotion, your unsaid words confusing him.

"what are you going on about?"

"really? 'this doesn't mean anything'," you scoffed, your hidden emotions rising to the surface, "do you know how heartbreaking those four words were? god, do you know how many nights i spent thinking about that. then here you come accusing me of being at fault."

his eyes softened at your confession, "i didn't know. you never said."

"i thought you knew," you cut him off, "i shouldn't have to tell you how harmful your words were."

"i didn't know," he spoke softly, getting up and standing in front of you, looking down at you into your eyes, "you could've told me. i would have been there for you.

"and what would have you done? hm?" you quipped as you looked away, anger and ache still inside your tone.

he softly grabbed your chin for you to look back up at him, "i would've told you how stupid i was, how scared. you have no idea how afraid i was of it ruining everything, and look at us now, look at what it's done to us. look at what my stupidity has done to us. i would've been there for you, through everything because i love you."

your breath hitched, utter surprise written all over your face, a small smile beginning to spread across your face, "i love you, and you aren't stupid. its just your pettiness," you spoke, trying to make the conversation lighter.

"oi, you're one to talk woman," he laughed, cupping your cheek to pull you into a kiss.

and as if it was right out of a corny soap opera, you heard a cheery whistle from the side of you. turning you were met with those three little shits with grins on their faces, well except eli, who looked completely defeated.

"as much as i am happy for the two of you coming to your senses," ryan began, turning to eli, "pay up, hewson."

eli groaned in frustration, pulling out cash from his pocket and placing it onto the ryan and josh's outstretched palms.

"you shits placed a bet on us?" bobby questioned.

"was an easy bet, after you drunkenly confessed your love to me a few nights before tour," josh explained to you two.

bobby's cheeks heated up, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. "is that what your silly comments on my posts meant?" you asked the trio.

"uh, look at the time! c'mon keating, time to perform!"

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yourusername

liked by bobbyskeetz and others

yourusername that one AM lyric about looks of love or smth

view all 4930 comments

inhalerfan43 OHMYGODAD

inhalerfan111 THE HARDLAUNCH IM DYIGNAKE

bobbyskeetz this damaging my rep woman

yourusername k bobbyskeetz haha i was just kidding bobbyskeetz i love you elijahhewson robert keating has emotions??

inhalerfan23 ive lost the love of my life to a guy who plays bass...

yourusername he's dorky ways and sassiness has captivated me bobbyskeetz HEY

ryanmcmahon_15 WAR IS OVERRRR

inhalerfan2 hes one of us fr yourusername dont think i've forgotten abt ur little bet dipshit ryanmcmahon_15 uh.... liked by joshjenkinson_, elijahhewson and 80 others

bobbyskeetz my woman

yourusername ur so babygirl i love u

bobbyskeetz THE LOOK OF LOVE THE RUSH OF BLOOD, THE SHES WITH MES

joshjenkinson_ this was so worth him talking my ear off about u

bobbyskeetz OI

inhalerfan432 HIS LOVE STARE IN THE LAST PIC IM SOBBING

inhalerfan00 im soooo normal abt them ahhahahahahahah

inhalerfan12 shes one of us fr

yourusername oh fs inhalerfan12 HI MOTHER

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THE END

omg sooo lmk if u guys enjoyed this? pls i haven't written in so long so sorry it took be a bit to release this

also if theres any error in the format or anything i apologize cause im still getting used to writing on tumblr

lots of loveeeee <333

[lowskey]

ྀ  ‧ ₊  ✩  ｡ °  ꒰ @copingmchnsm ꒱ . 💌

                                      ''  TABLE  THREE.  THE  GUY  WITH  THE  NAVY  SUIT  and  the  ugly  bald  spot  on  the  back  of  his  head.  and  co.  ''  it's  said  loud  enough  for  her  to  hear  ,  but  that's  the  thing  :  it's  only  destined  for  her  ears.  this  isn't  how  they  should  be  talking  about  their  clients  ,  but  frankly  ...  midas  does  not  have  a  single  care  in  the  world.  he's  here  to  make  money  and  unfortunately  doesn't  see  a  way  out  of  it  anytime  soon  ,  so  he's  stuck  here  and  he  figures  he  should  be  making  the  best  out  of  it.  at  least  there's  charlotte.  she  makes  it  a  bit  more  bearable  to  be  here.  he  pushes  the  tray  in  her  direction  with  drinks  for  aforementioned  people.  ''  and  let  rafael  know  his guys are  cheating  ,  will  you  ?  i  keep  spotting  them  exchanging  cards  behind  their  backs.  ''

[sensualnoiree]

astro notes: health houses

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘴, 𝘮𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴, 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩. 𝘓𝘦𝘵'𝘴 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘴—1, 6, 8, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 12—𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘩𝘺𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭-𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨.

1𝘴𝘵 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 - 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘞𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘉𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘱𝘩𝘺𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺'𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘤𝘤𝘶𝘱𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦, 𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦.

6𝘵𝘩 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 - 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘉𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴, 𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘩𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘻𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘴. 𝘐𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴.

8𝘵𝘩 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 - 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘊𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘤 𝘉𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦. 𝘊𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘤 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴, 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨-𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘮 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘳 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘢 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘻𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘺𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘭, 𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘱𝘴𝘺𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘴𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦'𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘤.

12𝘵𝘩 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 - 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘏𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘮 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘶𝘳𝘬 𝘣𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦—𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭, 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭, 𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩. 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘴. 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘦𝘴 𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘤, 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘦𝘷𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘨𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵.

𝘐𝘯 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 6𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘺𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘥𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 8𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 𝘷𝘰𝘭𝘶𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦—𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘹𝘪𝘦𝘵𝘺, 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘺, 𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘴. 𝘔𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 12𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘴, 𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘩𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘦𝘥𝘨𝘦, 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯𝘦'𝘴 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩.

𝘛𝘰 𝘨𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 1𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘣𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘴 𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘩𝘺𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 5𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘦. 𝘔𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 11𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴.

𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘢 𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦, 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩 𝘫𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘺—𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴, 𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘦𝘴, 𝘩𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘴. 𝘈𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦, 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘩𝘺𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭-𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘱𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘴.

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘱𝘪𝘤. 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘶𝘵! 𝘔𝘺 𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘣𝘰𝘹 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯!

𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘢𝘺 🤸🏿‍♀️

[meatriarch]

thinking about maria & ana's thoughts on their father + the broadcasts, him finally showing face around again only when one of his daughters' have literally gone missing.

how pre-house, maria was always open to the idea of him returning to their lives, in some manner. for visits, to keep that promise - literally anything, pre-house she would have been so much more forgiving, in spite of the hurt he caused, in spite of how many times she had kept up hope to a younger ana and herself that he was going to keep that promise, that he was going to call, that he would show up to their birthdays, to holidays. and even when she had to bite down on lip to stop herself from crying every single time he never showed, never called, she had still turned to ana with a smile and tried to paint him in positive light.

ana, on the other end, saw through the smiles, saw through the optimism, and she hated how hurt maria was. and she hated how hurt their mom was. she remembers hearing them both, on opposite ends of the house, crying in their rooms. she remembers watching maria sit on the couch beside the landline, eagerly waiting time and time again for a call they all knew wasn't going to come through. how every time it didnt, maria would look to her, smiling, and make up excuse for him forgetting they existed. and ana knows she always meant well, and she doesnt blame her for it - but it upsets her, still, how hopeful maria was that he'd ever keep that promise.

after maria goes missing, gets taken, ana is frankly stunned when ramon appears on their doorstep. and she's angry. she realizes their mom is the one who made sure he found out what was going on, that she insisted on him coming to try and help. ana does not trust him, and she lets him know so in no uncertain terms how unwanted he is to be there - but frankly, they need the extra eyes and ears and hands to look for her sister, and that's all he better be there to do.

its very tense with them under the same roof again, and when ana and carmen ( mama flores ) are asked by the sheriffs to put out statements to be broadcast out, ana's frustration only grows when she realizes that ramon has been asked to do the same; angered at him talking about his daughter, as if he had any right to claim to be a father to them anymore, to claim he misses her, that he wants her home safely. she bites back vitriol then - but she lets him know, later that night before taking off to his motel to sleep, that he lost that privilege long ago, when he walked out on them in favor of his girlfriend.

in maria's case, down in her cell below johnny's shack, being made to listen to the search broadcasts daily - nightly routine, almost ritualistic - its so strange, so unnerving, listening to people speak of you in terms of your fate being unknown;

is she alive? is she dead? did she just skip town? what truly happened to maria flores?

to then one night, after hearing unfamiliar voices speak her name, speculate on her whereabouts, go on and on and on about how theres been no leads, no clear evidence, no signs of struggle or foul play - phrases that earn the damned radio a tearful glare from her; they've no idea what happened that evening;

to then hear three. distinct, etched into memory.

of her mother, who could barely speak without choking on words, on sobs. begging, pleading, for her little girl to be brought home safe, alive, to please let her go, let her come back to us, before devolving past the static into a sobbing mess.

of ana, whose voice trembled - both in anger, and in effort to not cry as well - who demanded people to come forward with anything, that surely someone must have seen something, heard something, know something. that her sister doesnt deserve whatever has happened, that she was good and kind and sweet, and to whoever may have her, to let her come home, safe and alive. she bites tongue not to call them a coward for going after her sister.

and then, theres the third. unexpected. stirs a bitterness in maria, huddled close to wall on the ground of the cell. when ramon's voice comes through the static, theres an anger that bubbles in her, exasperation, hurt.

it took me going missing for you to show up again?

his voice muddies between the static, between the sounds of wood being carved into, and vision blurs with tears, biting hard down on lip, on inside of cheeks, as his voice drones on, and on, and on...

until she cant stand the sound. until she lets out a sob. until she begs johnny, watching silently beside the radio, to just turn the fucking thing off-

[westonsims00]

𝘌𝘟𝘛𝘙𝘈 𝘚𝘏𝘖𝘛𝘚: 𝘊𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘗𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘴 𝘞𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘔𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘢 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘳. 𝘓𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘦𝘵 𝘔𝘰 𝘪𝘯 𝘔𝘵. 𝘒𝘰𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘪 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘩𝘦𝘳 10-𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘺. 𝘈𝘴 𝘢 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘐 𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘨 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐'𝘮 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘸𝘢𝘺. 𝘜𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯, 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘔𝘰 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘰𝘶𝘵.

[sophiesstreet]

#dramionemonth

Day 22: Royal AU

Becoming the queens 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 guard

[lesbianneopolitan]

𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘵 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘵? 𝘔𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘨𝘪𝘧𝘵!~♪ 🍨 𝓘'𝓶 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓜𝓪𝓭 𝓗𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻! 🎩

[darkserenity24]

DarkSerenity's Fic Masterlist

𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵! 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘥 18+, 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘋𝘕𝘐❗𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘤 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴. 𝘐𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘦𝘥.

𝑴𝑪𝑼

《 Loki Laufeyson x Female Reader 》

⤜ Series

Freedom and Forgiveness - (Part 1) Complete When the infamous God of Mischief escapes his cell in the basement of the Avengers Tower, he accidentally comes across you while looking for revenge.

Freedom and Chaos - (Part 2) In progress The God of Mischief discovers a new sense of purpose beyond himself, but when this newfound direction spirals out of control, chaos ensues, and something much more twisted is formed.

Haunted - In Progress Being a housekeeper at the Odinson Manor was nothing but a job to you. That’s until one Odinson brother changes everything, and the other tragically ends it.

⤜ OneShots

Strong You have a thing for your new boyfriend and he has a thing for you.

Birthday Bash No one’s more surprised than you when your archnemesis turns out to be your savior.

《 Steve Rogers x Female Reader 》

⤜ OneShots

𝑳𝒂 𝑷𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝑴𝒐𝒓𝒕 Death himself has come for you, and you have no other choice than to surrender to his whim.

𝑩𝒓𝒆𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑨𝒎𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒂 You've been granted a life many would envy, complete with a devoted husband who showers you with affection around the clock. Yet, despite it all, an inexplicable sense of absence weighs heavily on you.

𝑶𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑩𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒔

《 Rafe Cameron x Female Reader 》

⤜ Series

Conceal and Carry - In progress You return to the Outer Banks to wrap up some familial unfinished business, only to be caught up in something so much more sinister.

⋙ I do not give any permission for anyone to copy, imitate, or translate my work. Same thing with fan art. If you want to post anything related to this story, please ask me first. Thank you.

⋙FAQs & Rules

20 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘳 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘦𝘴, 𝘐 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴. 𝘏𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘺. 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘵, 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦. 𝘯𝘰, 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴. 𝘯𝘰, 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥𝘶𝘭𝘦. 𝘐 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦. 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸. 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨. 𝘐𝘧 𝘯𝘰𝘵, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘥. 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘶𝘱𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵. 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦, 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦. 𝘯𝘰 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴.

@ultraviolet-aria 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨 🤍