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flowinniego · 8 months ago

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I’m avoiding scrolling the stranger things tag freely just yet as I don’t want to be spoiled. Bae and I are enjoying the (re-, for him)watch together. That said, I wanna rank my top 10 favorite characters and my least favorites after finishing season 2. Mainly because I’m not sure exactly who is where on that list just yet; I have a general vibe.

1.) Will and Hopper. I genuinely cannot put one higher than the other without fucking up the rest of the list; but I’ve adored Will since the first season (imagine my heartbreak he was barely in it LMAOOO.) His actor’s rent was past due in season 2; I still can’t believe how powerful his performance was. Also, it’s not a pity favorite; I think despite everything Will suffers, he still retains a sweet nature. He’s truly endearing. As for Hopper, he is such an interesting goddamn character. Not even in just an angsty cop who is well intentioned kind of way. He is genuinely good with people because of his own painful past. I also love how quick his brain moves, and then his body follows. Bro should move his lips faster though to communicate so he doesn’t get stuck again 😬

2.) Dustin is my boy. If Will and Hopper weren’t such integral plot players, he would be my #1. Despite not having the biggest roles in the plot (unless I’m already forgetting things,) he consistently has my partner and I rolling over his quips and moments. He is so earnest, AND UNDERRATED IN THE FACT HE’S AN ALL ROUNDER. He planned and executed his Demo-dog baby trap all on his own, and the scene where he meets with Steve and they begin the plot to lure the Demo-dog is golden. He has too many gold scenes, and he is a tired boy who continues to try despite. Good ass character.

3.) Eleven. Her character story and arcs have been WILD, but this girl is three things minimum: a survivor, independent, and determined. It’s been amazing watching this girl pick up on survival skills very quickly and how she decides to come back to defend whom she loves instead of festering in her justifiable anger in the end. Also, her and Hopper’s dynamic is PEAK from conflict to resolution. She’s not my absolute fave because let’s face it; she’s still a little awkward socially. She’s funny unintentionally tho.

4.) Lukas. He consistently has good sense, and I find his character charming and funny most times he’s on screen. I also find his slingshot cool af, and I think he handles the BS goes through pretty well. I also find most of his interactions with the other characters endearing and sincere. I LOVE his dynamic and nicknames with Maxine.

5.) Maxine. Even though I adore her, there are other cast members I’ve attached to more. Her character makes complete sense to me, and I love how she bites back despite how rough it’s been. She’s pretty chill, and I want to see more of her. She has potential to be my favorite.

6.) Nancy. She’s been a main instigator for the plot, somehow a flawed perfect in a good way, AND she’s the gunman in the party. Also, she danced with Dustin. I’d study with her. She’s only not higher bc the party scene with Steve kinda sucked, and she pressured both Jonathan and Barbara to go to parties with downer results (Jonathon having to drive her home, Barbara literally d-wording, Steve getting berated, etc.)

7.) Kali would be higher on this list if she had been around a little longer, but she’s up there. I loved her episode with Eleven, and I think her character with her found family is classic and fitting.

8.) moral scientist CEO that takes over after Brenner kicks the bucket (forgot his name.) He’s naturally charismatic, despite being the lead of a shady business. His banter with the main cast is always refreshing, and I appreciate how he treated Will and Bob. Also, he is a very patient man with very stressed characters. All around beige flag dude.

9.) Florence at the sheriff’s office never misses. Always knows what’s up without knowing and she supports Hopper. W

10.) Karen. She means well for her kids, albeit she NEVER knows what going on bro. She does okay despite having basically an emotionally absent partner.

Least Faves:

1.) Ted. It infuriates me how inattentive this dude is to his own kids. I was SO glad Dustin called him out to his face. Like at least be funny??? HE IS SO AWKWARD.

2.) Joyce, which pains me, because I LOVE Winona Ryder, and she is NAILING this role. But I cannot STAND how neglectful Joyce is of Jonathan compared to Will. I cannot have had a worse introduction to a character when you yell at your other son for HELPING WITH THE BILLS, and then getting onto him for not watching over his brother. Don’t play with me about oldest sibling shit. Also, her helicopter parenting of Will is justified after everything that happens season 1, but it’s just stifling. I also do not like how she demands the people around her to fix her problems and bend to her will when she’s powerless otherwise. AGAIN, I do not blame her for being a very caring mother, but I still remember that scene with Hopper where she uses his dead daughter against him. I know it’s even crazier to have her higher on this list instead of Billy or the other abusive fucks in this show, but 1.) most of the latter will not even be acknowledged by me because I hate them and invalidate their experience 2.) billy just got introduced and I’m praying there is a character arc somewhere because he has POTENTIAL, even if it’s as a villain and finally 3.) she’s BEEN here. She’s been hysterical for 79% of her character arcs; the most chill she’s been was when she was getting laid (THANK GOD) or it was a holiday. I just wish she could like, have faith? Or maybe give credit where it is due to the people helping her.

3.) Billy. Fuck him for directing his anger towards Maxine, but I understand dude has home issues. Also, I have yet to see if his violence towards Lukas is a hate crime or if it’s another reason. That’s not something I can easily write off even if he ends up being more likable, if it was the former. I’m attempting to keep my mind open about him.

4.) The side kick officers at the sheriff’s office bruh. Especially the one with glasses. They are the arrogant, incompetent cops we all imagine. The other guy isn’t that bad, but they both just don’t help Hopper that much.

5.) Mike. He is the lowest on this list solely because of how much he looked after Will, whom I adore. Also, I think he’s pretty brilliant despite his clearly high levels of anxiety. That said, I did not appreciate at all his angst regarding missing Eleven, especially with how rude he was to Maxine, who already has a shitty home life. Like, seriously? Have empathy dude. BTW him yelling and hitting at Hopper after they all reunite with Eleven when they’re literally on the defense from Demo-dogs??? Be so fr dude. Also, that Ghostbuster customer scene did not sit well with me at all. It was racist, and I’m glad Lukas called him out on that. I’m praying moments like that don’t happen again after season 2. I don’t think any happened season 2 thankfully.

I couldn’t fit it in the list as it’s currently 7:37AM as I’m writing this after binge watching season 2 with bae all night and I’m exhausted, but Jonathon and Steve for somewhere between 4-7 for my favorite characters. I like how they’ve developed, and I have had a soft spot for Jonathon since the beginning due to Joyce shouldering so much weight into him. I kinda like them outside of their dynamics with Nancy though; I almost wish they’d just all hang out platonically.

I can’t really place them because the other character spots feel correct and I don’t wanna fw them. Anyways goodnight, good ass show, and I can’t wait for more

#strangers things #stranger things 2 #opinion

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mask131 · 3 years ago

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The evolution of Morticia Addams (2)

Step two of Morticia’s “life” : the 60s television series. Here is the sitcom Morticia, as played by Carolyn Jones.

Of course, due to being played by Carolyn Jones, Morticia couldn’t keep the “ruined beauty” and withering style of the original cartoon. Her appearance still stayed the same - thin, tall, pale, with long dark hair, and a tight-fitting hobble black dress. But she is now much more conventionaly beautiful, as well as much more “glamorous” in design. Her robe doesn’t look as much torn out as elegantly cut, her hair is much more lush than in the drawings, and we can also note the addition of a few jewels: a jeweled ring on the finger, a small necklace on the collarbone... This is a much more classicaly elegant gothic lady, a more... “aristocratic” look. They even hint at her paleness not even being natural: she rather uses baking powder as makeup!

On a similar note, for the sake of acting, this Morticia lacks the emotionless of the original cartoons. She isn’t a perpetual blasé as Charles Addams conceived her: she is a pleasant, charming, happy woman/wife/host who smiles and laughs (though quietly). She can be prone to anger or jealousy sometimes, and we see her shed tears. She is emotive (though not much more emotive than regular people - just more emotive than her original incarnation). But despite these emotions, she stays the calm and quiet member of the family - in front of her husband’s reckless, enthusiastic, extravagant behavior (or Uncle Fester’s), she is a voice of prudence and reasons who advices caution and is always ready to prepare a nice cup of henbane to soothe people’s nerves. Even her movements are restrained by her tight-fitting dress (which makes her only more “elegant” in gestures). In fact, it is this quietness that makes her bizarre in the eyes of normal people: where the original Morticia’s lack of visible emotions made her eerie, Jones’ Morticia disturbs people because of how calmly, quietly and normally she reacts to the most unusual or distressing things.

The Morticia of the 60s television series was designed to be the opposite of the “classical” couples seen on television. She was designed to not fit in the classical “bickering couples” seen so much on sitcoms: she deeply loves and cares for her husband and family, she is the one that easily gets worried for them whenever something seems to go “wrong”, but she is also willing to make sacrifices or changes for the good and well-being of others. Her feuds with Gomez are rare and memorable, and most of the time just based on misunderstandings easily solved. This is part of Morticia’s general kind and caring behavior: she is always displeased by seeing people unhappy, and always ready to help them... in her own ways. She can still be stern and firm though, for example if someone tries to flirt with her (she reminds them that she is married and a faithful wife), or if someone is rude to her or her family.

On the other hand, Morticia does fit a lot of the classical tropes of the 50s and 60s sitcoms, notably by fitting (in her own way) the “housewife” role. Unlike in the original cartoon, for example, she is seen cooking and preparing all sorts of things for the family: meals of unusual meats (such as alligator’s), stews with unusual ingredients (eye of newts and other bizarre things), or cups of henbane instead of cup of teas. Like her original version she likes knitting, but here she knits sweaters for various members of the family (she likes to send gifts to distant cousins, aunts and uncles) ; and her passion for plants of the old cartoons is translated here into a full passion for gardening. But unlike a traditional 50s housewife front-lawn garden of little flowers, Morticia feeds regularly a greenhouse of exotic carnivorous plants with pieces of meat, her favorite (and most notorious) being Cleopatra, an “African Strangler” often seen bothering the Addams’ guests. And unlike traditional gardeners, when she picks a flower about to bloom, it is to cut its bud off.

Despite playing several of the classical “housewife” tropes, Morticia is also quite unique as she is a very talented and cultivated woman with talents for various domains : a recurring topic of the television series is her picking on a new hobby or a new occupation, and excelling at it, but sometimes getting too passionate and neglecting her husband or family as a result. As such she has been seen to be a very talented writer of children stories, an excellent painter, and a quite gifted sculptress - she fits very well with the “strange bohemian family of artists in a little traditional suburban neighborhood” vibe the show intended to display. Among the many talents of this woman are also musical ones: she is from time to time seen playing music, notably with a Japanese shamisen. (Because you know, back in 60s America everything that was too foreign in nature was just weird and bizarre).

While the show did not made Morticia as ghoulish as her original incarnation, they still tried to kept little hints at her inhuman nature here and there - notably with the most memorable joke of her character. “Can I smoke?”. Morticia loves to “smoke”, but what she means by that is crossing her arms, and having smoke come out of her body. Several details and elements of the show also strongly hint that Morticia is actually a witch (ranging from her wearing a pointy witch hat from time to time, to her ancestry going back to Salem, and the witchy nature of her immediate relatives - because in this show she is the “outsider” part of the Addams clan, due to being born in the Frump family, close friends to the Addamses, but still not of the same bloodline).

#morticia addams #morticia #the addams family #addams family #60s #television series #sitcom #carolyn jones

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astriiformes · 2 years ago

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Throwing meta thoughts at the wall here because I was musing on the fact that a lot of my favorite stories these days (TOH, Pentiment, the Locked Tomb series) are all at least a little bit about grief. But one interesting thing The Owl House specifically did with Luz and Belos was make both their stories about grief and mourning, but in the opposite directions.

I love stories where the protagonist and the antagonist are both grappling with the same question or difficult experience but differ drastically from each other in their answers to it. And in both Luz and Philip's/Belos' cases, that experience is the loss of a family member, and their relationship to the Boiling Isles is defined by that grief.

Belos sees the Boiling Isles as a corrupting force that needs to be eliminated because in his eyes, they're the thing that lead his brother astray. He probably would have had a problem with them regardless, since his fervently held religious beliefs are the other source of his antagonism towards witches -- and of course, the real source of the rift between him and Caleb. But they clearly became a scapegoat for his brother's running away and abandoning their world, as well as the reason he decided the Isles had to be destroyed at any cost.

And he never processes that grief. He creates the grimwalkers instead, killing them when they echo that original loss and trapping himself in a cycle where he never actually mourns, just tells himself he'll get it right the next time and finally have his brother back -- all the while projecting that same loss onto the Boiling Isles and letting it fester into an even worse bitterness towards everyone there in his attempts at genocide.

Luz, meanwhile, associates the Boiling Isles with her dad, who encouraged her interest in fantasy and even left her the Azura books, which were one of the primary reasons she decided to stay and learn how to be a witch. To her the Isles represent someone she loved, and now almost has a piece of back. Her wonder at everything there -- and her finding belonging and other people who love her, which she was clearly longing for after her dad's death -- is in part a wonder at rediscovering a happiness that had shattered when Manny died. Of course she ends up wanting to do anything to protect them.

We even see Luz try to suppress her own grief, which is probably part of why she worries she's too much like Belos -- she can see echoes of her own fears in his, even if they both have different relationships with them. But ultimately his story is one about going insane and destroying himself with unprocessed grief -- and an unwillingness to admit his own part in his pain -- whereas hers is about coming to terms with it, as well as with the guilt that comes from not always being able to protect the people you love from harm. It's one reason her conversation with the Titan is so lovely, because it's her simultaneously talking to a dad who never got to have a relationship with his own child and her talking to the Isles that gave her back some of the same joy as her own dad, as well as the courage to remember him the way he would have wanted.

And of course, both their mourning narratives are accentuated by the Collector, who has no real concept of grief and ends up learning about loss as a result of Belos' attempt to destroy the Boiling Isles clashing with Luz's attempts to save it. His confusion about death ties both their narratives together at the end, which works perfectly for an antagonist-turned-protagonist -- something that's really driven home by Luz and Philip's first "chronological" interaction occurring in large part because Luz offered to help him find the Collector in the first place.

I just!!!! It's about loss it's about grief it's about spying someone in the mirror that's almost-you-but-not-quite it's about learning to tell the difference and to be better than them even if you still understand something of the shape of what made them the way they are, about how misery is easy and hope is hard, especially when the world has taken something load-bearing away from you, but one is poison and the other is ultimately healing.

It's about grief and about how it can be the end of you or the beginning of a whole new story.

#every day i rotate themes around inside my head #f: us weirdos have to stick together

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ninas-gf · 3 years ago

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(slides into the inbox after seeing that post)

In response to that point, I raise you: Who said that Paimon was ever intelligent though?

And in response to that other point: Who said that Eula never cared what others thought of her in relation to her name? Because she apparently cares a great deal, but she shoves it all down.

You see, a trend I notice in most of the cryo characters is that they are walking contradictions. Their outward mannerisms to most are meant to distract from what is their inner truths.

For Eula specifically, I find that she's actually really nice and is always going to be bothered by her name just by its association with recent historical memory and by the fact that the remaining members aren't doing that much to dispel that notion.

She's desperately trying to break the mold she was raised in, but some base part of her has yet to break with it completely, given her manner of speech. Her in-game moveset is based on the only thing she herself actually wants to keep, which is her dancing. Even her daily mannerisms have a tie to that, such as her skewed view of her own baking and her strange relations with Jean in particular.

Also, please consider that Eula has no idea how to open up unless she's under the influence of alcohol! Amber is likely one of the only people who even know a fraction of how she really feels about certain things. This hurts when it's left to fester and sit there, as her family likely, if not canonically, discouraged her from feeling those things, let alone acting on them.

She wants to be unrestrained by the family name, she wishes that the name wouldn't even have its effects on her, but it has literally seeped into everything she does despite her not wanting it to.

But don't worry! She's actively breaking away from it anyway with her own little things! Amber is definitely contributing to this by being the open, enthusiastic, and caring person she is, but it's also people who give her the time of day. Her support group is small and she might not be entirely used to having one, but she's taking it one step at a time.

So in summary: Paimon did say something unusual to her character, but if you look and peek, it has some basis in something Eula wants even though it missed a bit of the mark.

(In case you can't tell, I absolutely love Eula Lawrence as a character and what she stands for in this sense. Makes for wonderful comfort when executed right.)

oh no i completely agree with you, paimon is definitely not right about everything, that’s for sure 😭 and honestly i don’t mind it at all, i just want the game to make it more clear when paimon is saying something inaccurate (which does happen in some cases, other characters will often point it out)… otherwise, players might just take whatever she says at face value

and i definitely get what you’re saying !! i agree with what you said about how eula is tied to her family in so many ways and how that is central to her character, i just don’t like that particular line bc the way it’s phrased makes it sound like she’s “trying to prove her family isn’t actually bad” (at least the way i interpreted it) when to me, her story has been more about separating herself from them… there are aspects that she’ll cling onto (like how you mentioned dance), but she’s also very critical of her family and would not hesitate to stand against them if they threaten mondstadt

(and this is going off on a little tangent but one of my favorite things about her is how she handled her family in her story quest. when she found out they were being suspicious, she didn’t automatically try to excuse them bc they’re family, nor did she try to incriminate them despite how poorly she’d been treated by them. she separated herself from emotional bias, and then waited until she had enough proof so that she could confront them. i always kind of loved how she processed that, along with her sense of morality)

to me she’s one of the most interesting characters in the game… the constant nuance and contradiction (and confusion) is exactly what makes her so interesting imo, but sometimes i just wish things were executed a bit better (in terms of storytelling)

#ty for the ask !! it always makes me glad when people get her :D #long post

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bokutoslittlebird · 4 years ago

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Family Vacation

Bokuto x reader x Akaashi

Author’s Note : no incest, I promise ; the request included some slight BokuAka interaction, however I made it more than slightly ; the hot springs resort is loosely based on three different locations under the Kinosaki Onsen in northern Hyogo [Mikuniya Ryokan, Yutouya Ryokan, Nishimuraya Ryokan]. Each one offers different things, but they all have some common aspects that I liked: seafood served during winter months [November - March], traditional ryokan, and options for the hot springs [indoor, outdoor, and family] ; holy fuck is this wrong.. but holy hell is it erotic

Warnings: introduction of the Bokuto family, best friends to lovers au, playful teasing [about reader’s virginity], some mlm [Bokuto x Akaashi] interaction, fingering, face-sitting, handjob, blowjob, cum eating, spit exchanges and mentions, no penetrative sex, virgin!reader, virgin!Bokuto

“Oh, [Y/N]! I’m so glad you could make it!”

“Thank you for having me, Bokuto-san,”

“Oh, dear, call me Fuyumi! You’re practically family, anyways,” she smiles, eyes crinkling as she does. Her smile makes you smile, bowing in respect as if you haven’t known her for years.

The Bokuto family always spent their winter vacation before New Years at an Onsen in Hyogo. Yasurai-fukurou was well known for their hot springs throughout the year, but their meals included seafood in the winter. Kōtarō and Shinjiro both love seafood, especially crab, so it made sense the Bokuto family would come to this place specifically. Winter meant snow, and snow meant the garden view from the spring was gorgeous, having the silver lining the green foliage as the pebbles along the ground glistened with melted snow, cold and slippery. It was Kōtarō’s and Machiko’s favorite season, so it was an added bonus. The family had the money to spend, treating the members to a relaxing trip. Even Keiji, Kōtarō’s friend, joined them his first year at Fukurodani.

You didn’t usually attend, yet you always wanted to. Your family celebrated holidays differently, so you often found yourself swamped with family activities around December, only getting free to hang out by the time school started back up. Always wishing to go, you finally got your wish this year. With the stress from school this past semester, your family decided to let you choose what to do, so you declined spending the holidays with your family. Instead, you were free to spend that quality time with the Bokuto family. Fuyumi practically begged Kōtarō to invite you, knowing you’d be alone, so you didn’t have to worry about inviting yourself. There was one problem, however.

“[Y/N] should room with us!” Machiko points out. “She can’t board with boys!”

“What do you take us for? We’re her best friends,” Kōtarō waves off his sister. “I worry Amaya might try to wrestle her,”

“She could use the practice!” She pipes up, only to be shut back down. “I wouldn’t hurt her,”

“Why not let the girl choose herself? It is where she will stay, in the end,” Shinjiro said. Although he was right, you suddenly felt your heart tugging in two different directions. Machiko and Kōtarō gave you the puppy dog eyes, begging to choose them. A heavy sigh came from you as you weigh the options presented in front of you.

“I trust Keiji and Kōtarō, I’ll room with them,”

“No!” The two girls dramatically shout, falling to their knees. Fuyumi laughs, patting your back.

“Good choice, dear,” she compliments. You know why. Her daughters may be considered mature and adults, but they are both hectic and chaotic in their own way. At least with Kōtarō, he has Keiji with him. There’s no reason to mull over the decision, you know full well that Keiji and Kōtarō wouldn’t hurt you.

Once settled into each room, your bedding laid between the two of them, the trip to relax in the ryokan was in order. The two genders were separated, of course, so you sat in the spring with Machiko, Amaya, and Fuyumi. It wasn’t a bad thing, being with the three, but you knew Machiko and Amaya like to tease you.

“Gosh, [Y/N], you’re so innocent! You’ve never done anything?” Amaya’s face made it seem like she was much more malicious than on the surface. “Even I had a couple boyfriends that I had special adventures with before your age,”

“Excuse me? Amaya!” Fuyumi scolds her daughter. “You never told us this,”

“Why would I? You and dad never allowed me to have a boyfriend until I graduated. Kōtarō even had a girlfriend in his second year,” she pouts, puffy cheeks making her less malicious and much more adorable. Though unintentional, her words make your mood sour, Kōtarō’s slipping from her lips. Machiko notices this, however.

“Well, Kōtarō is a boy and I told your father to make sure he doesn’t do any of that dating stuff, but it seems like he did,”

“You know, I’m kind of tired. I’m really relaxed,” you mention, moving to exit the water. “I should lay down and take a nap,”

“Oh, are you sure? Dinner will be served soon,” Machiko holds out her hand, as if to stop you. You’re quick about getting out, rinsing yourself off before wrapping a robe around your naked body.

“I’m sure. Wake me when dinner’s ready,” you cheerfully smile, waving to them as you leave the setting. Your smile falls, an artificial thing as you continue to pad towards the room. Passing the window leading to the garden, you notice the cascading of the white snowflakes, shimmering in the light from the outdoor lamps. It’s peaceful, the way it floats down to the ground until it rapidly melts, joining the slush forming on the pathway. A sigh leaves you, heart aching from the words Amaya let spill.

It wasn’t her fault, you tell yourself that as you continue to the room. Amaya doesn’t know, but Machiko does. Machiko has always had the older sister intuition, knowing when her younger siblings had something to hide or something embarrassing. Whether it was from her years of travel around the world, or just a trait of hers, she could pinpoint things that made you want to crawl in a hole. What does Machiko know, exactly? Your big, fat crush on her little brother.

Kōtarō has been your crush as long as you’ve known him, aka since you guys were waddling around with chubby legs. Your family and his family live near each other, so it made sense for you two to play a lot as children. As the years passed, your admiration for him evolved into a crushing thing, yet your young mind wouldn’t allow such a horrid thing to be spoken. No, it festered until you broke down one day in high school and confessed to the dark of the night, the only witness of your confession was the moon. You confessed that you loved him, you were in love with him, nobody else could compare. It hurt even more now, knowing you were falling in love with him while he was loving someone else. Even Keiji probably loved Kōtarō, knowing how close they were. You wouldn’t put it past them to be in a relationship, either. Each thought accompanied a step you took, each one bringing tears to prickle your eyes as you finally shut the door to the room, and your problems.

With the dark encompassing the room, you found yourself easily situating yourself on the ground to cry, curling up in a ball as you did so. A pathetic scene, you knew it was, yet you couldn’t help yourself.

After you left the ryokan, Shinjiro happened to be talking to the boys in front of him, both of them flushed red from the warmth of the bath and the topic at hand.

“I knew something was off in the way your mother encouraged you to invite her! I never thought it’d be that, however,” his guffaw had Kōtarō sinking into the water, bubbles coming from his nose as he huffs. Keiji looks at him pitifully, but doesn’t do much of anything else.

“She doesn’t even like me like that. This trip was a mistake,” Kōtarō mumbles, his mouth going back under the water. Keiji sighs, looking into the water where his distorted hands lie. Before he can speak, Kōtarō beats him to it. “I have to go to the bathroom. I think I’ll leave early,”

“You sure it’s just that?” Shinjiro teases. “Or are you going to wait for your lovely friend?”

“Okay, maybe it’s a bit of both,” he huffs, cheeks puffed out. Keiji lets the words die on his tongue, letting Kōtarō leave the spring without any reason to look back.

Shinjiro sighs, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks into the water. “Maybe I went too far. I shouldn’t tease him about his crush, it seems like it’s important to him. I don’t think she sees him in that light, anyways,”

“She does, actually. I think she’s been in love with him for a while,” he confesses. Shinjiro’s eyebrows rise as the words sink in. However, he is quick to understand. No longer laughing and joking, his smile is more bitter and sad. A pity smile.

“And you’ve been in love with her, haven’t you?”

Keiji turns his head to the side, yet he nods. The red dusting his cheeks is no longer just the warmth of the water. Shinjiro moves closer to Keiji, putting his hand on the younger man’s back.

“Then tell her. You both need to confess, not let this fester and turn into something ugly. Don’t let this ruin your friendship with Kōtarō, either. It’s not worth it,”

“I know. I know, Bokuto-san,”

“When you gonna call me Shinjiro? Or even dad? You need to let loose, Keiji!” He laughs again, getting Keiji to crack a smile.

While Keiji ponders how he should go about this, Kōtarō trudges up to his room for the week, unaware you’ve also turned in early. His mood has taken a turn for the worse, hair deflating as he pouts. No matter what, he’s always found himself finding your validation to be the most important. Throughout the years, he’s reached out to both you and Keiji for validation, finding them both to be important to him. While he knows Keiji partially does it just to make him happy, which he is thankful for, he knows yours is genuine. Even when he forced himself to move on, knowing you didn’t see him in that light, he found it hard. You followed him into his dreams, gleeful chimes of your laughter as the future he aims for bloomed into an obtainable goal. Yet, he’d wake up to see the empty space beside him, a brutal reminder that his dreamt future would stay in his head, playing on loop until he could do something about it in the real world.

When his door comes into view, he sighs, relief flooding through him. As he gets closer, he hears a soft voice from inside. Leaning his ear against the shut door, he hears you — a squeak of his name, accompanying a soft mewl, most likely held back due to the thin walls. Even he understands what you’re doing, it’s not like he’s never thought of you that way, finding himself wishing you could relieve his stress in the best way possible. As to respect your privacy, and settle his nerves, he quietly creeps away, to his parent’s booked room. He decides to use the toilet in there, giving you a few moments to finish your own business.

Leaning against the door once more, he doesn’t hear your heavy breaths or your moans and mewls, so he slides open the door to see you under the covers, laptop shining in your face as a movie plays. “Hey, what’re you doing here?”

“Huh?” You jump, turning to see Kōtarō’s large frame at the entrance of the room. It’s scary, the way he seems to have popped up after you finished, or attempted, getting off on thinking of him. “Oh, Kō. It’s just you. No more hot springs for you?”

“Oh, no, I found it to be getting too hot,” he lies, rubbing his neck. The robe you’re wearing is the one you put on after exiting the spring, so his perverted little mind knows you’re completely naked underneath. Not only that, you’re probably nice and slick from thinking about him—

He stops himself, hearing your voice. “Did you hear me? I asked if you wanted to watch the movie with me,”

“Oh, sorry, off in my own world. Uh, sure, what is it?”

“Crown for Christmas. A sappy romance Christmas movie, from America. It’s very predictable, but it’s cute. My mom loves it, so I brought it to watch,”

“Oh, that’s interesting,” he hums, lying on his own bedding. He didn’t move closer to you, giving you some space, but he finds himself panicking when you move closer.

“Can’t see if you’re all the way over there, dummy,” you giggle, pressing play. He can’t find it in himself to focus, the movie being background noise to his thoughts. The hot springs help to add a special glow to your skin, making it seem smoother than before, and you smell so nice, not to mention he can feel his cock throbbing at your soft voice calling out his name. What would it be like if he used his own fingers, would you be able to hold back? Or would you come completely undone as you came on his fingers— even better, his cock? Just the thought has him groaning, head shoved into his pillow as you pause the movie, probably confused.

He looks up, seeing your dazed expression — yep, totally confused. He sighs and shrugs, apologizing. “Are you okay? You seem.. tense,”

“Tense?” That’s one way to describe it, he supposes. “I’m just.. dad was teasing me earlier. That’s why I left. I’m.. remembering what he said,”

“Oh, I get that. Amaya kept teasing me about girl stuff, so I left. Machiko tried to stop me, but I was already out of the water,” you admit. It’s not the full truth, but that’s okay.

“Girl stuff? Like what?” Kōtarō never shied from girly stuff, including the weird stuff that happened to girls like puberty and the menstrual cycle. You chalked it up to his older sisters being shameless, never making it seem gross. Even when you started your period in class, Kōtarō was there to help you, a knight in shining armor.

You wish they were less shameless.

“Oh, um, you know, the romantic stuff,”

“Like? Boyfriends?”

“Yeah, I’ve.. never had one. No experience on my end. Amaya was teasing me because she had a couple of boyfriends before my age, so it.. it didn’t hurt my feelings, but it made me feel some kind of way, you know?” Your attempted explanation was kind of butchered, trying to explain it without giving too much detail. Kōtarō wouldn’t judge you, of course not, it wasn’t something to judge you about.

He knows the feeling, being inexperienced.

“W-Well, if you want any experience before going into the dating scene, I could.. always help you,” he whispers. His words hang in the air, settling into both of your minds. He’s berating himself for using such a lame line to try and get in your pants, but you’re trying to find a way to say yes without seeming desperate. However, “I mean! I have experience, so I could help you! I’d say I’m pretty good at doing stuff. Oh! It could be like.. any advice or something.. hands on,” he whispers the last part again, his confidence melting like snow on a summer’s day when your face falls.

It isn’t you don’t want it, you just would prefer him to not word it like that. It reminds you of Amaya’s words and the pain in your chest, the churn in your stomach. “If you’re gonna be like that, maybe I should ask Keiji,” you huff, turning your body away from his. Focusing on forcing your stomach to stop twisting in knots, you don’t even notice when Kōtarō closes the laptop and presses himself against you. Well, not until you feel something pressing into your back. “Kō—”

“Don’t be like that. I’ve never actually gone all the way, I’ve been saving that for someone special. I can help, though, if you’d let me,” his breath fans over your ear, sending shivers down your spine. His arm snakes under you, pulling you into his stomach while he lays on his back.

“Kōtarō!”

“You’re stressed, gotta loosen up a bit. I’m helping,” he just says, making sure your legs are hooked over his. With the lack of clothing under the robe, your nether region is spread open towards the door, sending your adrenaline skyrocketing. Kōtarō is quick to ease that, his thick fingers spreading open your folds while his middle finger rubs against your sensitive clit. “You’re absolutely soaked, do I turn you on that much?” He’s grinning, you know he is. Gritting your teeth, you keep your mouth closed as you focus on the feeling of his fingers, now sliding up and down and collecting your slick.

Kōtarō doesn’t want to tease you for too long, slipping his middle finger into your cunt as you mewl, hand coming to cover your mouth. “What a reaction. I wonder..” he trails off, pulling his finger out, only to add in three fingers. You’re arching, legs tending against his as he fingers you, lips pressing themselves to your hair and ear. When his tongue flicks out against your ear, you squirm and he grunts, his left arm keeping you firm against him. “Sensitive, are you?”

He doesn’t get any vocal confirmation from you, but the way you’re clenching around his fingers tells him all he needs to know. He makes sure to keep his thumb bumping against your clit, adding pressure. You can feel the familiar feeling, the beginning of an orgasm as he pumps his fingers into you. With a squeal of his name, your nails dig into the meat of his arm, liquids spilling out of you and all over Kōtarō’s fingers. The squishing sound enters your ears, legs tensing as you mewl, his fingers rubbing themselves against you some more.

“You’re so wet.. I bet it’d be easy to slip my cock in there, wouldn’t it?” His voice is low, a rumble in his chest as your cunt clenches at the thought, your wildest fantasies so close to coming to fruition when someone clears their throat. You pop up, Kōtarō jolting and keeping you on his chest as he moves.

Keiji is looking at the both of you, a heavy blush adorning his cheeks. The room is dim, only the lights from outside the inn illuminating him. He’s right at the door, right in front of where Kōtarō was just fingering you. Kōtarō’s hand finally leaves from between your legs, glistening wetness shown in the lamplight. “If you want to give her experience, you need to go over everything involved in foreplay, Kōtarō. There’s more to prep,”

“M-More?” your voice is small, barely a whisper as you find more slick oozing from you, Keiji entering the room. He kneels down in front of you, still held against Kōtarō’s chest.

“Has he even kissed you, yet? Or did he go headfirst into fingering you?” When you shake your head, Kōtarō himself sucking in a breath, Keiji knows he was right. With the elegance he always exudes, Keiji tilts your chin up towards him. “Then, allow me,”

The kiss is gentle, yet not simple. His lips are firmly against yours, molding perfectly as he keeps your chin tilted. As he deepens the kiss, you find your hands grasping at his own robe, feeling yourself lighter than you were when you had entered the room. Keiji moves to pull away, a brisk kiss on your lips once more before swiping his tongue over your bottom lip, sending heat all over your body.

“Akaashi..” Kōtarō whines, his grip on you tightening. “This is supposed to be my time with her,”

“Well, you’re going too fast. Why not elongate the time spent together, hm?” His voice sends tingles down your spine, his hands removing you from Kōtarō’s grasp. “Lay back, Bokuto-san. You’ll get your turn,”

Your brain is going haywire as he speaks, undoing Kōtarō’s robe with unconscious grace. He’s not doing it on purpose, you know he isn’t, it’s just how he is. Once Kōtarō has been disrobed, you find more heat springing to your cheeks as his muscles ripple and flex. The lack of light prevents you from seeing everything, but you’ve always found yourself insatiable when thinking of his broad frame and what hides under his clothes.

“Give me your hand, [Y/N],” Keiji’s voice has you coming back down to earth, yet you find yourself once more shy with Kōtarō’s legs spread, his cock heavy and so large in Keiji’s hand. You comply, though, your much smaller hand joining Keiji’s around Kōtarō’s girth. It’s so much, the way it feels and the heat of the skin under your fingertips. A soft groan comes from Kōtarō as Keiji moves his hand, his other hand shuffling you between his legs.

“This is called a handjob, [Y/N],” Keiji says. You nod in understanding, realizing he’s teaching you. “Moving your hand up and down the shaft is the basic function of it, but you can also use your fingers to tease the slit, like so,” he demonstrates, swiping his thumb over the small slit, puffy and red where Kōtarō’s cum is dripping from. The simple act has Kōtarō throwing his head back, moaning as his hand covers his mouth. The walls are thin and if his family is back, they probably have a good idea of what’s going on.

“I see,” you hum, continuing to move your hand up and down the shaft. Keiji nods, seeing you’re understanding.

“Or tease his balls, like cupping them or massaging. Don’t squeeze them hard, though. It won’t feel very nice,” his hand moves to cup and tease Kōtarō’s balls, the man himself laying on his back as his face turns red, the ministrations getting to be too much. “There’s also a blowjob, but we can teach you that next time,”

“N-Next time??” You squeak, jumping a bit. Whether it was a one time thing or the beginning of a relationship didn’t cross your mind. His words, however, seem to please you more than imaginable.

“Of course, darling. We’re not done here, either. Why don’t you let Bokuto-san show you what other kinds of pleasure he can give you?” At Keiji’s words, Kōtarō pops up with a bright smile on his face.

“Sit on my face, baby,”

“Oh, woah, wow, uh..” you stop, unsure how to politely decline. His mouth and nose, down there? Not to mention your weight on his head? You were sure he’d regret his decision. “I don’t think”

“I’ll be fine. C’mon, I gotta show you what else my mouth can do besides dirty talk,” he winks, sending more heat to your cheeks, making you feel rather hot for a winter’s day, clad in only a robe. Keiji seems to read your mind, taking your robe from your shoulders, the belt falling undone easily from the previous activities. Once you’re down to your birthday suit, Keiji presses a kiss to your shoulder blade, a whisper to go that sends you crawling closer to Kōtarō’s face. He grins, eagerly taking your thigh and placing it on the other side, keeping your drenched cunt close to his face. He says something, but only a muffled noise comes out, his tongue swiping along your folds.

With your back to him, Keiji wishes he told you to face him and watch, yet he finds the scene of you erotic. He may have a bit more expertise than you and Kōtarō, it seems that’s all that’s needed. He smiles, gaze catching on the way Kōtarō’s fingers dig into the fat of your thigh, making indents. Completely forgotten, Keiji spits a glob onto Kōtarō’s cock, him jumping at the feeling. With a few more pumps of his hand, he flicks his tongue against the head.

Kōtarō’s moan has you mewling, the sound acting as a vibration as your fingers tug harshly on the silver and black strands. Though not as long as they were in high school, there’s enough to grasp and pull on. The wet sounds from behind you has your head turning, eyes falling on Keiji’s mouth wrapped around Kōtarō’s cock. It’s an erotic scene, his head moving up as more of the length is revealed, his blue eyes settling on your own as you feel a nip down below. So focused on Keiji, Kōtarō wants your attention all on him. Keiji chuckles, almost like a hum, that vibrates around the cock in his mouth that has Kōtarō moaning.

The tongue that flicks against your clit has you squirming, restrained mewls and moans leaving your lips as hands tug on his locks. Kōtarō licks and suckles on your clit occasionally, then moves down to prod and swipe over your entrance. The position makes it easy for him to breathe, but he moves down further. New position has you squealing, hands flying to your mouth as you squeeze your eyes shut to focus on the pleasure. Another moan from Kōtarō that sends shivers down your spine, heat to your core, accompanying the obscene noises of Keiji sucking Kōtarō off.

With Kōtarō’s nose bumping against your clit, his tongue’s only focus is on your pretty little cunt, sucking and swirling his tongue. The sensitivity from earlier makes quick work of you, hunching over as your thighs tighten around Kōtarō’s head, his strong hands keeping you from hurting him as you gush all over his face. A moan comes from him as he laps at your juices spilling over his face, his own orgasm coming as Keiji takes him down as far as he can. Globs of white cum spurt from the side of Keiji’s mouth, a gagging sound as he struggles to swallow it.

A hand on your shoulder has you leaning back, falling against Keiji’s chest with his cheeks puffy. Kōtarō manages to look up at the scene, gaze fuzzy as he watches Keiji kiss you once more, cum seeping from where his lips meet yours. When Keiji pulls away, his tongue is out, pushing the dripping cum into your mouth where the rest lies. It’s enough to have Kōtarō hard once more, a dark and heavy blush settling across his cheeks and nose.

The thick appendage pressing into your back once more has you gasping and jumping, some cum spilling out your mouth and down your chest. As it travels between the valley of your breasts and over the perk nipples, Keiji takes it upon himself to lap at the milky droplets. You gulp down the rest in your mouth, making a show of it by tilting your head up, throat contracting as you swallow it all. Kōtarō finds himself unable to look away from the scene.

“Ah, seems like someone’s still raring to go,” Keiji breaks the silence, eyes glancing back to look at Kōtarō’s cock, once more standing tall and proud. He then looks to you. “Shall I let you handle this one alone?”

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #Mr. Kōtarō #Mr. Keiji #BB.Kinky #bokuto x reader #akaashi x reader #akaashi smut #bokuto smut #BokuAka #bokuaka x reader #cw.cum play #cw.semi public sex #tw.semi public sex #cw.spit

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tiptapricot · 2 years ago

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1 antez, 5 romero, 18 nona, and 24 moses

(i saw the numbers in a ✨️vision✨️)

(ID in ALT)

1. Does your character have any siblings or family members in their age group? Which one are they closest with?

Antez does have family and siblings and they are uh. Other angels and God. Essentially. Or what humans perceive as those things. They’re more weird interdimensional beings that can’t quite be nailed down as one thing, and also don’t line up well w specific religions. They also aren’t all family they’re kinda a race or species but there are some family dynamics that could be applied. It’s generally hard to define they’re just vibing, but Antez is closest to hiss “father,” or “God.” He can’t return to hiss dimension anymore since being turned and that fucking sucks! But he can still interact with others when they visit or reach out to hymn in their own ways.

From discord: “Was just smacked w like how [weddings are] usually tied to religion n like… while “God” in this isn’t exactly the same, like He’s a being but has been interpreted by humans differently than He truly is bc they can’t comprehend Him, but like… at whatever wedding [Antez and Romero] have Antez like kind of asking for His blessing, for Him to recognize their union, except it’s more like reaching out to a distant relative or parent n you don’t know if they’ll respond. Bc like antez through hiss own actions has been made solid, grounded on earth and essentially excluded from going back to wherever home was so just…. Ough.”

5. On an average day, what can be found in your character’s pockets?

Romero doesn’t carry much to Do stuff with, but he does a lot of work around the house and ranch so little things find their way in. Nails, a handful of picked cherry tomatoes, some flowers that have gotten a bit squished, a pocket knife. If he’s doing more rigorous work or work with stuff that snags, he takes his wedding ring off the cord around his neck and puts it in a pocket that buttons, just to be safe.

18. Is your character more likely to admire wisdom, or ambition in others?

Bona absolutely admires wisdom more. She doesn’t like rash choices that lose sight of the present, the here and now, and having lived for so long and through so much one of her favorite things is hearing stories, of people’s lives and their pasts and their most mundane desires and joys. She clicks more with people who’ve had long lives than those in a rush to get through theirs, though she respects drive and passion, she just thinks it needs a grounding line.

24. How quick is your character to trust someone else?

He doesn’t. Moses has a hard time forming connections with anyone. He keeps his walls firm and himself isolated, and his professional and personal relationships are highly calculated and performative. The only reason he’s gotten so close to Romero and Antez and Bona is because they’re so inhuman and separate from the things that scare him (ironically, as they’re all monsters). It removes his worry of human distrust, of societal judgements and connections. But even then his paranoia and boundaries cause things to grow and fester because that’s the space he’s found himself in. It’s possible that over time he could lose what he’s built there, but it hasn’t happened yet, and he’s clinging to that desperately.

Antez and Moses drawn by tira3sii, Romero drawn by spicyboelives, Bona… attempted vibe by me

Send me a character developing OC ask!

#these were so fUNNN THANKYOUUU #antez tag #romero tag #bona tag #moses tag #the fruits ocs #the fruit is answering again #the fruit is talking again

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orphancookie69 · 2 years ago

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Now Watching: Wednesday

It kind of pains me to write this. I love The Addams family, The Munsters, and all those wonderfully creepy people representing the rest of us on the tele. As a kid, I grew up on the 90′s Addams Family movie and sequel, as an adult if I ever need a “pick me up” it is one of my favorite things to rewatch. So you can imagine when this was coming out, I was pumped.

Let’s start at the beginning- in the 60′s this started off as a sitcom on tv. Black and white, and most likely where we get our idea of what Morticia and Gomez and all the family members “should be like”. I actually get clips from the 60′s show that come up on my Tiktok and man it looks like virtual gold to me. Cute, normal, but otherwise creepy kooky family.

Who is in the Addams family? Mom and dad are Morticia and Gomez. They are typically a very happy couple. Lurch is almost a family friend or servant? Morticia has her mom living with them, Gomez’s brother Fester sometimes does. There are two kids: Wednesday, the oldest daughter, and Pugsley, the second born son. Depending on what version you follow, there is a third child. You can’t forget about Thing, he’s a handful.

From the sitcom, to a movie and sequel 30 years later, the story of the Addams family is very timeless. The transition from the 60′s to the 90′s gave the characters a deeper transition into the goth/alternative realm. It is very likely they were in there in the 60′s but in black and white its hard to see, and societally speaking, that would be a hard time to have most of america accept a family that “dark”.

From the 90′s to 2022, Tim Burton makes an 8 episode season but changes things...a lot. With something so, iconic, it is hard to make major changes. It is more smaller stylistic changes that add up as one watches it. I get it, the appeal but also the challenge to want to do something so iconic. This show is about, not so much the addams family, but the oldest daughter...Wednesday. Hence the name. In a world where feminists want “domination” not equality, the change of direction for the show is not surprising.

This is a related side rant, but really, if you are ever bored look at TV in different decades of society and see how they reflect the time they are made in. For example, The Sandman. That is based on a comic book that has been around for some time, and in the comic books there is a more normal mix of ethnicities for all the characters. When it gets made into a show in 2022, all the “bad people” are white, most people are black, Constatine is a gay woman. While there is not that much wrong with “creative liberty” in bringing a material to life, ask yourself this-had this been made in any other decade...would it have been made like that?

Anyways, back to what we are actually watching...or not watching. Wednesday. This show is in some ways about the family but its about the family as they get older. I guess as one gets older they start to define their own lives and spend less time with family. I will not spoil much, but I only watched the first episode. Wednesday gets kicked out of public school and goes to a private school both her parents went to. Wednesday is full of teenage angst. And a modern day feminist. There is also a heavy dose of magic and fantasy added to this show, as everyone is not human or a gifted human.

Before watching it, I had heard some issues people had with the show. Mom and Dad, while they are in timeline older, are being played by the oldest actors ever to have portrayed them. Catherine Zeta Jones doesn’t do a bad Morticia, but as one gets older, the classic morticia body is hard to pull off. I would of loved to see that look be in the vain of the older look but more appropriate for an older Morticia. Gomez is played by a short older mexican dude with a beer belly. I must say, personally speaking, I prefer gomez taller, because even when he’s taller he’s always shorter than Tish. But Jones towers heavily over Gomez, and appearances aside-their chemistry is attempting to be good but not?

When it came to actually watching it-The first episode actually did a fair amount of work fairly well. I always feel bad for how much work the first episode of any show has to do. It has to introduce, snare the viewer, and set up the plot. I could see, and mostly agree, about Gomez and Tish. The “modern” changes they made to Wednesday, don’t feel like her to me. The story, while possibly interesting, heavily detracts from the value the show has from the iconic family as there is not much family in it. Wednesday on her own is too dry and almost grinding of a character. Also, maybe its been too long since I have been a teenage female with angst-but I think Tish would of been a better mom than my mom was to me, and I did not hate my mom that much then. (It happened eventually but that was more in adulthood for me).

This seems like a long winded way to say, if I had to say it in a simpler fashion, that I hate this. I don’t want to. But I don’t plan to finish the season or watch any more. I thought it was interesting too that they did not get permission to use the Addams Family theme song. At first I was like wow, but after I am glad they did not. I believe the show has had record numbers of viewers, so maybe it is a case of I am not the target audience for this “modern” version of a cult classic. What do you guys think of the show?

#rant #now watching #netflix #tim burton #wednesday #addams family #the munsters #review #spoiler alert #spoiler free #kooky #family #goth #pilot #movie buff in training

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baronvonkrieger · 3 years ago

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Having Watched “Wednesday”

Back in August, I wrote a blog where I mentioned I had no intention to see this new Tim Burton series. I had no problem with people liking it, or not liking it. However the promos showed me a series about a homicidal young misanthrope, who reminded me of Rhoda from the bad seed, without the sunny disposition. Well a good friend of mine knows how much I love Charles Addams and the Addams Family, and even made the series available for me to watch, so I broke down, and watched it. It turns out I enjoyed it.

I enjoyed it, but then I like the entire Addams Family. Even in a lesser effort like “Addams Family Reunion”, I liked the Family members better then the show they were in. If your primary love of the Addams Family is what a great romantic couple Gomez and Morticia are, I’m going to guess you won’t like the show. However, if you are a fan of Wednesday as portrayed by Christina Ricci, you will probably really enjoy it. Jenna Ortega is very good playing that version of the Addams Family daughter. Considering how Tim Burton has a crush on Ricci’s version of Wednesday, her being right in this part was essential, since Burton wanted the show to center around her.

I did find the story, and it’s mystery engaging, and ended up watching it from late Wednesday evening, putting it off despite being able to access it, with the anticipation of a visit to the dentist, and ended up binging on it from Wednesday evening until early Thursday morning, looking forward as each chapter ended to seeing what was in the next chapter. the cast is good, and carry the series. I enjoyed seeing the character growth of Wednesday throughout the series, helped by others, despite Wednesday initially wanting nothing to do with them. We even get Christina Ricci playing one of her teachers.

How were the other members of the Addams Family? After the first episode, when they made an appearance, I enjoyed the series more. My favorite episode was the episode that had Uncle Fester. Fred Armisen played Uncle Fester, and was as much fun watching him play the character, as I had Jackie Coogan in the original series. “Thing” was part of the regular cast, and it was fun seeing how much character they were able to give what was nothing more then a detached hand. I liked the heart to heart Wednesday had with her brother in a later episode with Pugsley, as to me the Addams Family has always been at it’s strongest when it comes to family members relating to each other.

The casting where we see most of the hate this series has been regarding the casting of Gomez and Moticia, particularly Luis Guzman as Gomez. He definitely he isn’t the handsome and romantic lover that was created by John Astin and played so well by Raul Julia. However, for the purpose of this series, you really don’t need an Astin or Julia. Since there are flashbacks to Gomez and Morticia at Nevermore, I thought the casting of Guzman and Lucius Hoyos as Young Gomez Addams, served the Wednesday centered show more, then a romantic figure that wasn’t seen that much in the show. If anything, the Gomez here was more in keeping with what Addams had drawn as a caricature of then New York Mayor Tom Dewey, and was the inspiration for the “Rocky and Bullwinkle” villain Boris Badenov. The same with Catherine Zeta-Jones as Morticia. She was fine playing the strong mother Wednesday was rebelling against.

This may not be your Addams Family, and it may not be my Addams Family, but it is definitely Tim Burton’s Addams Family. I for one am glad that he went through a monumental effort to bring his project to the screen, as it gave me something more from the Addams Family to enjoy.

#Charles Addams #Addams Family #Tim Burton #Jenna Ortega #Christina Ricci

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abbysfrenchbraid · 4 years ago

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hi! i love all of your writing, especially your abby fanfics. i know you’re in the middle of your eivor series right now, so pls disregard if you don’t feel like writing this request or don’t want to write for abby, but i was wondering if you could maybe write a hurt/comfort type imagine where abby either comforts the reader when they’re sad or after they have a nightmare. i get really frequent nightmares and love to read fanfics like this but totally understand if you’re not into the idea. all the love and i hope you’re doing well; merry christmas if you celebrate!

so this is half a year late, but I finally have a little more time to go through my requests so here it is! this is also the first time I've actively avoided gendering the reader as I've gotten a few requests for a nonbinary or genderfluid reader. This is not a cop-out on that, I definitely want to write an explicitly nb reader but I figured this would make the reading experience better for quite a few people!

Summary: The reader has recently lost a family member and stranded with the WLF. They struggle with frequent panic attacks and nightmares. Abby notices and tries to take care of them.

CW for loss of a family member (sibling), death and grief, heavy trauma, panic attacks, anxiety, nightmares, and struggling to breathe. The nightmares are also fairly violent and creepy so please watch out for yourselves and only read this if you're in a good state of mind <3

I've Got You

The truck rattled as Leah drove it up the road to the WLF stadium. It had been a particularly rough day on patrol. You and the other wolf had run into a group of freshly infected that seemed to have been three families once. The children had been the worst. The youngest had probably been about ten years old before she had turned, her eyes bright blue and her blonde curls matted with dried blood. You had taken care of them all, of course you had. But it had been horrible. You folded your hands in your lap to keep them from shaking.

You had joined the WLF a few months ago after losing your team and your little sister in a clicker-infested cellar you had set up camp in. It had been so fucking stupid, so careless. But everyone had been tired, you hadn’t seen any infected in days, and so only one of you had kept watch. He barely had time to scream before the clicker had ripped out his throat. It had been chaos, madness, everyone scrambling to escape into the network of damp corridors and storage rooms, more and more clickers being drawn to you by the noise.

Leah raised her hand at the armed guards at the gate and they opened for your truck. The sun was setting behind you and most people were inside the stadium now, eating or spending time with friends. Both of you were quiet. Leah’s legs were covered in slowly darkening blood and the smell was nauseating. The tall wolf pulled the truck into its designated spot and took a deep breath.

“Y/N?” You looked up at her. The circles under her eyes could compete with yours, but her face was still as kind as ever.

“Yeah?”

“You take care of yourself today. Take a long shower, get something to eat. I’ll let Martha know to give you a double portion for dinner.”

You smiled faintly at her. This was how it was here. All the wolves had seen terrible things and probably done even worse. They all chose to let it out in training and then leave it behind them. No sense in holding on. You nodded.

“Thanks, Lee. See you in the gym tomorrow.”

The brunette grinned and patted your thigh.

“6 am sharp!” She jumped out of the car and gave back the keys at the checkpoint, then she vanished inside the stadium.

You stayed in your seat. Your fingers had cramped up and you were scared to unfold them, scared you would never be able to stop them from shaking again.

Sierra had held your hand all the way, not letting go as you dragged her through the darkness, fought off four infected, stumbled up stairs you had not come down on, and found yourself in a ravaged theater. You had run all night and only stopped when you were unable to go a single step further. When you had found a small pawnshop that you could lock up safely, you had made a bed of your jacket and a moth-eaten blanket from the theater. Sierra had started to cry. You would never forget the way dread had started to creep into your limbs, seeping into your skin and stretching dark tendrils toward your throat. You had rolled up Sierra’s sleeve and there it was. A relatively small mark, just the puncture wounds from two teeth turned into mean scratches as Sierra had pulled her arm from the jaws of a clicker and kept on running. But it had already begun to fester, the edges of the wound an angry red contrasting the white blisters forming around the site. It felt like the ground had been pulled from below your feet. You fell and fell, unable to speak, to do anything, just staring at the thing that meant the end of the world. The end of your baby sister.

A shout caught your attention - another car had returned to the stadium and was pulling into a spot a few paces away. It was Manny and Abby, everyone’s favorite duo. The attractive joker and the stoic warrior. They were among Leah’s best friends and she had introduced them to you a while ago, all of them welcoming you warmly. It had been strange, being part of a group again, a team. Your heart was still too sore.

So you had quietly pulled yourself out of most of the group evenings, the film nights and game nights and arm wrestling tournaments and what else there was to do. Manny had tried his luck flirting with you a few times and one time you had even joined him for a dance, but after realizing he wouldn’t land with you he had respectfully backed off and now treated you more like a little sister. Mel and Owen had been nice, too, both very secluded when they turned up together, but Owen was funny and enthusiastic and always yelled your name across the cafeteria or the training course when he saw you. He was one of the few people who could make you laugh no matter how hard you tried not to.

Nora was a whirlwind, the smartest person you had ever known and unfaltering no matter what the universe threw at her feet. She liked poetry and hard rock music, big men and even bigger women. You had often wondered whether she and Abby had ever hooked up. But you weren’t sure of anything concerning Abby. Always the stony face, the impenetrable wall, the arms-length smile and polite nod in the hallway. It could be infuriating at times. Especially because despite it all, against all your better judgment, you could feel yourself growing more and more interested in her, constantly looking for her in a crowd and sneaking side glances to see if she was listening to you or laughing at the same things.

The car doors banged and the sound echoed through the small space. Manny was laughing about something Abby had said and walked with a bounce in his step as he approached the counter to hand back his keys. Abby looked like she always did, khaki cargo pants and a black cutoff, her green backpack slung over one muscular shoulder. Some strands of hair had escaped her braid and curled up at the back of her neck, slightly damp from her sweat in the hot summer air. Trying to calm down and distract yourself, you let your gaze wander up her strong build, freckled biceps flexing as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. And then she looked straight at you. You didn’t move, stayed frozen as you had for the last few minutes, wishing you were invisible.

Your face felt hot and suddenly there were tears blurring your vision - what was happening?! Your knees started shaking as well, bouncing uncontrollably as your nails dug into the backs of your hands. Your throat was closing up and your bottom lip was quivering. All you saw were specks of grey and green, all you felt was your body resisting every command and rebelling against you, trying to hold you in place and suffocate you silently.

Suddenly the door opened beside you and a soft, deep voice said your name. You tried to blink the tears away but your vision wouldn’t clear up, panic blinding you further. You began shaking your head as your chest convulsed in a desperate attempt to draw breath.

“Fuck, Y/N, okay.” Abby’s voice was determined and suddenly her hands were on your wrists. Her skin was warm and dry, her grip firm. She softly shook your clasped hands and somehow moved so her face was in front of yours, a mess of green and brown and there, soft pink where her lips moved, speaking quietly and telling you to breathe with her. One hand stayed on your wrist and her thumb massaged the cramped up muscle there, digging painfully into your flesh but pulling you back to her slowly. One hand came up closer and a calloused thumb brushed the tears from your cheek before her hand landed on your shoulder, fingers pressing into your upper back.

“Hey, look at me, look at me, Y/N, you’re okay, I’m here. Can you try to breathe in with me on three? Just stop fighting for a moment, count with me and then we’ll breathe in together. Okay? One.”

You tried to sit up straighter and stop the erratic twitching of your chest, still choking on your breath as you waited for her commando.

“Two. Three.”

Her hand pressed between your shoulders from behind and suddenly you could breathe again, a loud gasp that turned into quiet sobs as you fought to release the air from your lungs before breathing in again.

“There we go, you’re doing so good,” Abby’s hand was on your cheek again, “so good, Y/N, breathe with me, that’s right.”

Your vision slowly returned to you now, though it was still distorted by tears. Abby had half-climbed into the truck, one foot between yours and one dangling out of the open door, her weight held up only by her right leg as she pressed her back against the dashboard. A wet laugh escaped you. Abby shot you a confused look, paired with the hint of a relieved smile.

“What?”

“You’re gonna get a cramp as well,” you rasped, “if you keep that up.”

You slid further to the inside of the broad seat, making room for Abby next to you. She grinned and sat down, one hand still on your wrist. Her eyes went down to your trembling hands, your knuckles still white from your iron grip.

“Okay, let’s take care of your hands, hm?”

Her fingers wandered softly over yours, then she rested one hand over your tangled fingers and pushed her other thumb between your palms, gently loosening your hold. She pulled back each finger slowly, starting with your thumbs and stroking each one as they relaxed. Finally, your shaking hands lay freely on your thighs.

“You’re doing so well, Y/N, don’t worry.” She took one of your hands in her lap and started massaging the inside of your palm. “Wanna tell me what got you there?”

You sighed, breath still shaky with tears.

“Um.. We ran into infected today. Runners. Families, it seemed.”

Abby sucked in a breath and gave you back your hand before taking the other and starting the same gentle procedure.

“Those are the hardest. Kids?”

You nodded and Abby made a soft noise. You took another rattling breath.

“I… I lost my little sister. Back when… before I came to you.”

Her head shot up and she stared at you, shock and sympathy playing over her features.

“Fuck, Y/N, you never said…”

“I know.” You lowered your head.

When you had stumbled out of the woods around the WLF stadium and begged them to let you in, they had stripped you and searched you before bringing you to their leader. After hours of questioning to make sure you weren’t a spy for any other group, he knew about your team and everything you had done in the last three years, but you hadn’t mentioned Sierra once. It wouldn’t change anything anyway. They had brought you to Nora who had patched you up, examined you, and fed you before showing you to your new room. It was a small closet on the base level of the stadium, with only a tiny window letting in some light. You were thankful for a roof over your head and the armed posts surrounding the stadium.

“I didn’t want to talk about her. I didn’t lie to Isaac or betray you. It wasn't anyone's business.” You gave Abby a fierce look. Nothing would change your mind about this. She just nodded, her eyes wide. You sighed, brushing your hands against each other.

“She was bitten. I see her every time I close my eyes. It wasn’t fair.” You dropped your hands into your lap. “I just don’t… I can’t -”

Abby’s hand was on yours again, her fingers sliding between yours.

“Hey. I won’t tell anyone. But I’m here, okay? If you want to talk.”

You scoffed.

“No one ever talks here. You’re all made of stone.”

Abby contemplated this for a few seconds, then she squeezed your hand.

“My dad was murdered a few years ago. Almost all of our families are dead.” Now it was your turn to be shocked. Fuck. You had been so insensitive. “By us, I mean Owen, Nora, Jordan, and me. Owen lost his parents to infected and his brothers to the scars just last year.”

Abby leaned back and stared out of the windshield, the garage now dark except for a few small lamps at the exits.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. Of course, I’m in no place to tell you how to deal with it.”

“No, it’s fine. You’re right, you know. We don’t talk about those things.” She looked at you, her gaze so intense you almost pulled back. “Would you like to?”

You forced yourself to hold her gaze.

“I think I would. Now that it’s all… further away.”

Abby nodded, squeezing your hand again.

“Then we’ll talk. You can tell me all about your sister. And… I haven’t talked about my dad in a long time. I think I’d like to tell you about him, too. He was great.”

A small smile played around her lips and you felt a rush of gratitude for this wonderful woman. You could practically see the memories playing through her head behind those green eyes. She blinked, looking back at you.

“Wanna get something to eat? You must be starving. I know I am.”

“Sure.” You shared another smile and exited the car together, fingers still intertwined as you crossed the lot and Abby held the door open for you.

Dinner was already over, but Leah had kept her word and the elder woman at the counter gave you both gigantic bowls of beef stew with thick, coarse bread. You told Abby about your patrol that day and she hummed sympathetically. She knew what it felt like to deal with infected children. After a while, the door to the cafeteria flew open and Manny came in, sleek black hair still wet from a shower. He grinned brightly as he made his way over to you and sat next to you on the metal bench.

“You coming along tonight?” he asked you, drumming his fingers on the table. You raised your eyebrows.

“What’s happening tonight?”

He tutted at Abby and gave her a theatrical frown.

“You didn’t invite Y/N? It’s Mel’s birthday! Owen got his hands on some prime hooch. You celebrating with us?”

You smiled at your plate. The last thing you needed was to get wasted and completely lose any shred of sanity you had left.

“Thanks, but I don’t think I’ll join you. I still haven’t showered and I had a terrible day. I’m just gonna read a bit and pass out, I think.” You gave him an apologetic shrug.

“Oh, come on, Y/N. Read and pass out? It’s a special occasion! You sure?”

“Yeah, but really, thank you for inviting me. Maybe next time.”

He sighed heavily, then he clapped his hand on the table and stood up.

“Abby, you need to get moving, girl. We’re meeting in 20 and you stink.”

Abby just raised her eyebrows and shook her head, finishing her stew. Manny's laughter echoed through the empty room as he left.

“Do I really smell that bad?” There was a twinkle in her eye, a conspiratorial smile on her lips. You smiled back.

“Not at all. He probably smelled me.” You grabbed her empty bowl and placed it in yours. “Go have fun, I’ll clean this up. See you at training.”

Abby cocked her head to the side, seemingly not sure what to do. You gave her another encouraging smile.

“Really, I’m fine. Thank you for taking care of me, I owe you. Go celebrate!”

The tall blonde stood up slowly. She still seemed hesitant.

“I’ll come check on you later if that’s okay. And you can always come over and talk to me if something’s wrong, alright?”

Your chest felt tight all of a sudden, but not in the way it had earlier. It was the feeling of reaching for something knowing you’d never have it, of wanting something so bad and only being able to admire it from a distance. It felt like being homesick. You thought of Sierra again and how she had been your home, the only anchor in your life. Fuck, not now.

You shook your head as if to get rid of your thoughts and gave Abby a brave smile.

“Okay. But I’ll be fine. Promise.”

“Okay. See you later, then.”

“See you.”

Abby gave you a last look over her shoulder before exiting the cafeteria and you made your way over to the kitchen. The cooks had already left and a lanky red-haired boy was the only one still there, washing dishes and listening to music on an mp3 player. The metallic sound in his headphones echoed through the peacefully quiet kitchen. He almost jumped two feet into the air when you approached from the side, bowls in your hand.

“Fuck, you scared the shit out of me! Jesus Christ.” He pressed a wet hand to his chest, the suds leaving a dark print on his shirt.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know how not to scare you, music and all. Sorry.” Both of you had to laugh and he held his dripping hands out for your dirty bowls.

“Don’t worry, I just wasn’t expecting anyone this late. You just come back from a mission?”

“Just a patrol run.”

You leaned against the counter and watched him clean the dishes.

“Anything exciting happen?” His eyes were bright and excited. He was even younger than he had looked at first, he couldn’t be older than 15. “My brother is on patrols too. Maybe you know him, his name is Danny.”

You crossed your arms and tried to remember the face that matched that name. Danny had been on patrol with Owen for a while when you had first arrived, but now he was stationed on some outpost and you hadn’t seen him for a long time.

“Yeah, I think I do. He’s not here at the moment, right?”

“He’s at the Serevena Hotel. I may be able to visit him there soon, depending on how my training goes.”

You raised your eyebrows.

“Training to be a soldier?”

“Of course.” He stood up straight. “I want to do my part, protect our people. Fight the scars.”

You didn’t really know how to respond to that. Even though you were thankful the WLF had taken you in and even though you had also participated in rigorous training from the first day on, soon being cleared for missions, you didn’t really have the same loyalty and faith for the organization. The seraphites were your enemies now, of course, but they were just people. You all were. Sometimes you wondered how it could have come to this - so few people left on this earth and here you were, slaughtering each other.

“I hope you can visit your brother soon.” You let your arms fall to the side and turned to leave. “Thanks for the dishes.”

“No problem,” he mumbled, putting his headphones back in.

You were in no rush to get to your room and so you took a few detours, passing the gym which was filled with quite a lot of people getting their training in after work. You looked into empty classrooms, trying to decipher what was written on the board. Would Sierra have studied here? Sat in the front, eager to learn the things you hadn’t been able to teach her? What if you had come here earlier, before it all happened? Could they have protected her better than you had? She would probably be walking next to you now, telling you about her day.

When you finally arrived at your room, you just quickly grabbed a towel, a clean shirt, and some shorts and headed for the showers. The hot water seemed to help somewhat. You wondered what Abby was up to right now. Probably getting drunk and having fun. Was she the type of person who danced? You had never seen her dance before. Maybe Nora would persuade her. There it was again, that heavy, pulling feeling. You turned the water off, got dressed, and went straight to bed. Enough heartache for one day.

You woke up confused, not knowing where you were at first. It was pitch black and there was some kind of noise outside. You reached around you and finally found the flashlight next to your pillow, turning it on and trying to wipe the sleep from your eyes. What was going on?

It had to be after midnight. The lights in the stadium were only on from 5.30 am to 10 pm in order to save power. You untangled yourself from your sheets and got on your feet, swaying a little. There it was again, that strange scratching noise accompanied by a quiet mumbling sound. It wasn’t directly at your door but seemed to come from further down the corridor. There were a few other people living down here in storerooms and sectioned hallways.

Yawning, you walked to the door and opened it ever so slightly, pressing the flashlight to your thigh in order to keep the light down at first. You couldn’t see anything, so you waved the flashlight around the corridor. Your stomach dropped.

At the far end of the hallway, a small figure stood in front of one of the doors, trying to open it to no avail. Small hands scratched at the wood, quiet brabbling reached your ears. This was wrong. Very wrong. The figure hadn’t noticed the light yet. It went on to the next door, trying the door handle and whining in frustration when it didn’t open.

Why didn’t the people inside wake up from the noise? You stood frozen as the figure tried the next door. It was a child, dressed in dotted pyjamas. Its blonde hair was shoulder length and tangled in knots. You slowly pushed your door open wider in order to step out into the corridor. Suddenly, the hinges squeaked and the sound echoed through the hallway.

The child slowly turned toward you. Blood was dripping from its mouth, its eyes were cold. It took a step toward you. You looked down and realized you were holding a gun. Oh. Right. Infected. You were supposed to shoot them.

As the kid made another strange brabbling sound, more blood ran down the front of the cotton pyjama shirt. You raised the flashlight with shaky fingers and aimed it right at the child's face.

Your blood froze in your veins. No. This couldn’t be. You had taken care of her, you had made sure she wouldn’t… wouldn’t turn into one of these… No, you had given her a peaceful ending.

“Sierra.” Your voice was raspy, quiet with terror. “Sierra, what are you doing here, baby?”

She growled. A horribly wrong sound, coming from someone so small and so lovely. Only she wasn’t lovely anymore. She was sick. Infected.

“Sierra!” You spoke louder now, your voice pleading. “Baby, please don’t do that. It’s me, see?” You raised the flashlight to light your own face for a moment. When you put it back on her, she had stopped walking. Her face was a mask of ice-cold fury. When she spoke, her voice rattled like nails in a metal box, rough like chalk on board.

“Y/N… Why?

You sank to your knees.

“Oh baby, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what to do. I’m so sorry Siri, I was so helpless. I didn’t know, I didn’t…”

“You… killed… me.”

She was getting dangerously close now and all of a sudden you could smell her, too. Foul, dead, vile. The smell of sickness and decay. You raised the gun, a war raging between your head and your heart.

“Sierra, stop. Stop.” Tears were streaming down your face. “Please stop, Siri. Don’t come any closer. Stop, stop! Please stop!”

Your little baby sister was so close that you could have reached out a hand and brushed through her hair. You stood up and took a step back.

“I’m gonna have to shoot you if you don’t step back. You’re infected, Siri. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but you can’t, please Sierra. Don’t, please don’t…”

She hissed at you and lurched forward. A shot rang through the air and the girl fell to the floor right before you, her tiny body at your feet, blood slowly pooling around her head. You dropped the gun and it clattered on the concrete floor. You clapped your hands to your mouth and screamed into your palms, crying out again and again, trying to gasp for air. It felt like your heart was being torn in two.

Suddenly there was a hand on your shoulder. You whirled around, but there was only darkness. You let yourself fall to the floor and kept weeping into your hands. Someone gripped your wrists and shook them slightly. You opened your eyes.

Abby was sitting on the side of your bed, her face right above yours and full of worry. You shook your head, frantically looking around your room for any kind of danger. The room was almost dark, light just seeping through the crack under the door. It was still early in the night.

“Y/N? Hey, hey. You’re okay.” Abby slowly let go of your wrists. “You had a nightmare. You’re okay now, I’m here.”

You were still too terrified to speak, so you just scooted further to the side and grabbed Abby’s hand, giving her a pleading look. She understood immediately, kicking off her shoes and climbing into bed next to you, holding out her arm for you to crawl into. You pressed yourself to her side and rested your head on her chest, feeling yourself tremble in her arms. She just held you for a while, letting you listen to her heartbeat until your own body began to calm down.

“Hi,” you whispered into the dim room. Abby stroked your hair while she held you tightly.

“Hey there,” she mumbled back. “Feeling better?”

“Not really.” You looked up at her. She smelled faintly of alcohol and something sweet. “How was your party?”

The corner of her mouth twitched.

“It was absolute chaos. I had to escape from there before it could consume me. And I also had someone to check on.” She squeezed your shoulder. You cringed at the thought of her finding you like this, writhing and talking in your sleep, crying out or even fighting her without knowing who was in front of you. You had always had horrible nightmares and Sierra had taken the brunt of them, waking you countless nights and trying to stay brave when you yelled at her or shoved her away in the first moments of consciousness, not yet fully back in the real world. Now that she was gone, they were a hundred times worse. You pressed your forehead to Abby’s shoulder.

“Did I scream?”

“Not really. I just knocked a few times and then I heard you talking, and you sounded so panicked that I thought I should make sure… I’m sorry I just came in like that.”

You shook your head.

“No, don’t. Thank you for waking me. It was… God, I hate this.”

Abby’s fingers combed through your hair, massaging your scalp. It was heavenly.

“Does this happen a lot?”

You snorted involuntarily.

“Every night. Several times. I never sleep through and I never sleep enough.” You wiped a hand over your face. “Sorry, I know I’m not the only one and it could be worse. It’s just… hard.”

“Excuse me?” Abby’s tone made you look up at her. “You’re telling me you have several panic attacks in your sleep every night but it’s fine because others have nightmares, too?”

You frowned. Panic attacks? You’d never thought of it that way.

“Y/N, you’re allowed to complain. To me especially. Remember, we wanted to talk about our problems? Be open about all this?”

She was right. You pressed yourself closer to her.

“I guess, yeah. Thank you for… for being here.”

“Wanna tell me about your nightmare?”

You held onto Abby’s shirt, clenching the fabric in your fist as if she might be ripped from you at any moment.

“I don’t know… I mean, why not. Well…” How were you even supposed to explain all this? How would you ever talk about your sister without freaking out again?

Abby pressed a kiss to the top of your head and you felt the tension in your stomach dissolve. You took a deep breath.

“I can never tell I’m dreaming. This time I thought I heard something in the corridor and I went to see what it was. A little girl was scratching on doors, trying to get in. She looked like the… like one of the infected we ran into today. But I made a noise and when she turned around she was... She was -” You gasped for air, trying to keep your calm. Abby hummed softly, stroking your back and giving you time to think.

“She had the face of my sister. Sierra.” You hadn’t said her name out loud in so long, only in the nightmares. Maybe it was time to rid her name of that terror, that fear, and grant it the love and warmth it deserved. “Sierra was my little sister. We ran with a group the last few years, stayed with them after our mom died. But she was bitten and I had to… I had to let her go.” You swallowed hard. Abby’s thumb drew circles on your back.

“So in the dream… the girl turned around and she was her . And I didn’t know what to do. I begged her to stop, to not come any closer because she was infected, she was bleeding, and -” You drew in another breath and buried your face in Abby’s chest. “She asked me why I’d done it, why I had… and she kept coming and then she attacked me and I - I had to, I had to shoot her.”

Hot tears were burning in your eyes and your throat was impossibly tight again. Abby gently placed a hand on your cheek and turned your face up toward her.

“I’m not gonna tell you it was just a dream because I know it's more complicated than that. I get them, too, sometimes. But what I can tell you is that I’m here, that you’re safe now, that your sister is in a better place and that one day you will be able to speak about her without feeling like you’re falling apart.”

“You think so?”

“I’m sure of it. And now you're with me. We can heal together. I’m here, I’ll always be here for you, okay?”

You raised your head from her chest and turned a little in order to get face to face with her.

“Abby?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you doing this? Why now? I didn’t even think you liked me. You don’t have to take care of me.”

Abby’s features softened and she huffed out a silent laugh.

“I don’t know. I really… You were right when you said we keep everything to ourselves. But some of us do it more than others. And I guess I’m the worst when it comes to showing what I want.”

The sentence hung in the air for a moment. Abby took a deep breath.

“I like you, I really do. I just thought you needed more time. I know what it’s like to suffer and to feel like you can’t breathe. I wanted to give you space. But then I saw you in the car and I immediately knew what was happening. And I finally realized that I wouldn’t make things better by staying away.”

She held your gaze and you felt something shift between you. Her hand on your back came to a halt. You smiled softly.

“I always thought you didn’t find me interesting enough to talk to me. I was so jealous of the others for being this close to you and for making you laugh. I wanted that, too.”

“You’re the most interesting person that’s ever walked into this stadium,” Abby said softly. “God, I’m so sorry. I never wanted you to feel left out.”

You rested your head back on her shoulder.

“You made it up to me already. Really, you saved me today. Twice.”

Abby chuckled.

“Just wait until I have my next breakdown and then you can return the favor. Shouldn’t be long, they get to me every few days.”

You wrapped your arms around her torso.

“Well, then you’ll just have to stay close by.”

She hesitated, holding her breath for a second. You waited.

“Do you want me to stay? Tonight?”

You smiled to yourself.

“Would you?”

“Of course.”

You kept talking for a while. Abby told you about the party and about the cook Nora was currently hooking up with, and you told her about the boy in the kitchen. She recalled training with Danny when she first joined the WLF, laughing about how he had boasted that he wouldn’t lose to a girl and how she had him on the ground in a headlock in about two seconds.

At some point you must have fallen asleep, because the next thing you knew you were in the truck again, sitting in the passenger seat as the car flew through Seattle at top speed. You looked over and in the driver's seat there was the red-haired boy from the kitchen. His face was determined, a hard mask of concentration. He was panting hard, driving as fast as he could. Arrows were flying around you, soaring through the broken windows of the car and missing you by mere inches. A horse was whinnying. Scars. You immediately pulled out your gun and started shooting at everything that moved outside, hitting at least three people and a horse.

“Sorry,” you whispered as you reloaded. Animals weren’t fair.

You looked up and suddenly there was someone standing in the middle of the street. A small girl, brown-haired and in a red dress. Her back was to you. You screamed at the driver, but it was too late. The truck hit the child and it was thrown against the windshield, making a horrible noise as it cracked the glass and rolled over the roof to the back of the car where it fell to the ground. The truck came to a shrieking halt and you jumped out, gun drawn. The scars had vanished. You and the redhead ran back to where the girl was laying in a heap on the street, so small and fragile. Blood was running through the cracks in the pavement.

You turned the girl on her back and froze when you saw her face.

“Sierra! No, no, no, oh god no, what have we done - Sierra, Sierra, baby, look at me!”

“Y/N!” You heard your name but Sierra’s lips weren’t moving. “Y/N!” You whipped your head around and woke up.

It was dark and Abby had an arm wrapped around you, the other was holding your cheek. You swallowed and struggled for air.

“I’ve got you, hey, just breathe for me, I’ve got you.” Abby’s voice was sleepy and rough, something you'd have never thought you’d have the privilege of hearing. It calmed you down instantly. You dug your fingers into her arm, strong muscle flexing beneath your touch.

“Shhh, that’s right, just hold on. You’re okay.” You melted into her arms, hands and legs still shaking. She made a quiet humming noise in the back of her throat and pressed another kiss to your scalp. “I’m here. I’ll take care of you. I’m here.”

“You’re here,” you whispered and she hummed again in response. You rested your head against her chest and listened to her breaths as they slowly became more regular, chest steadily moving against you. Her heartbeat thumped softly in your ear. Cocooned in the wolf’s arms and serenaded by the quiet symphony of her sleeping body, you finally drifted off to sleep again.

#abby anderson #abby tlou #abby tlou2 #abby anderson fic #fanfiction #angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #angst/comfort #angst/fluff #manny tlou #wlf #washington liberation front #abby anderson / reader #abby/reader

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