#Im crawling up a wall /neg

[heavensmockery]

Me when adulthood makes me want to scream until I can no more. I feel so furious at the social norms that have been established because it's making my life hell like wdym now that im over 18 there's no space for vulnerability and I have to be mature calm collected and a role model. Like. (eye twitch)

And subtly you feel judged by EVERYONE around you while you're left with your entire trauma all on your own. And you're here like

Like literally yes ofc use me as the oh look this person is doing so great and making SUCH a great effort AND DOING SO MUCH for everyone they're so self less al

Yeah because it was the only thing I ever felt allowed to be. I'm traumatized and not a martyrer. Even if I rather die than being forced to live on.

Gosh everything just sucks. My body hurts

[niknak-paddywack]

OKAY IM BACK TO DOING THE ART- at least on this blog. The FNAF one might take a while because it's hard being productive.

TODAY IS A LITTLE DIFFERENT BUT I MADE MY SPIDERSONA A CLOWN. SHES WONDERFUL I LOVE HER (ignore the different colors of lineart and crap alright I was lazy)

So her name is Gigglecrawler or Nikki. Nikki, when she's not fighting off crime, works at a family circus. she was just a regular clown, but once she got bit by the spider, she was then able to climb the ranks to trapeze. Her webs are super strong silly string and streamers that come out of oversized flowers on her wrist. Her clown nose is not attached to her suit, she actually likes to throw the nose at villains. Her suit was stolen from the human cannonball because it was the most durable. The spider changed her personality to where any fear or sadness is immediately replaced with laughter and joy. It's so that those negative feelings don't distract her and mess her up in battle. Her coloring is based off a purple gold jumping spider! When she crawls on walls, she leaves behind childish scribbles.

I really really love her, she's kind of my favorite thing rn. Also have this

(This could be your Spidey if you join my spiderverse rp 👀👀 /lh /no pressure!!)

This post explains the rp

Okay that's all for now, hope you like the little clown bastard and enjoy these other lazy sketches of Gigglecrawler

[luxurilae]

꩜— yan!wukong drabble

YANDERE!WUKONG —— tw; dark content, neg tension, yandere behavior, implied sexual content, mention of blood.

—꩜———

Stilled in her movement. A simple step became thousands on her tail, noises echoing, reverberating through the dark hallway. She clamped a hand over her mouth, desperately trying to quiet her heavy breathing. Rolling her shoulders back when the floor suddenly felt cold under her dirtied shoes.

A sinner, she was. Lucifer ran scorching hot kisses along her back, laughing at the numbness in her eyes every time. [name]’s own words felt like weights in her arms.

Her lips were chapped, opening and closing in fleeting thoughts. Lying in wait for the worst possible outcome. It felt like a thousand years had gone by, a simple notion that the gods above really didn’t give a flying fuck about her fate. 

Then, in the underlight, a chilling hum. The tune felt like such a damn taunt, she hated how it really did crawl under her skin, got into the very crevices of her dread and amplified it. And next in the cacophony — Footsteps, drew nearer and nearer.

* CREAK *

They stopped in front of the closet door. [name] held her breath. Time slowed— No, time moves slow— She could’ve sworn she felt eyes through the little cracks in the door. She could’ve sworn she felt his presence suddenly so close. She could’ve sworn—

But the footsteps receded and kept walking right on by the closet. When she was sure they were gone far enough, or at least took a few turns, she let out the smallest, infinitesimal breath of relief. The gods suddenly took their sadistic delight.

Shadows raced into existence, the closet door slamming open while an utterly lovesick grin stuck its position on his face. A tongue dashed out to swipe along his fang. Wukong rolled his shoulders back, eyes fixated on her, only her.

“There you are dollface!”

A tremulous whimper escaped her throat, eyes widening to the size of saucers while her pupils shook as mere slits. [name]’s eyes trailed to the blood splattered all across him, his irises glowing a bright pink, practically hearts. She scrambled for purchase in her hiding spot, backing away until her back hit the wall.

Two arms found their way on either side of her head to cage her in, the loud noise eliciting another sharp yelp from [name]. Wukong was insane for her. It was no secret. His head spun, his pupils shook, his body acted on its own, and his mind was plagued by her, only her.

She tried pushing at his chest, to no avail. He simply pushed further, breath fanning against hers when his lips brushed hers as well. Just the slightest bit of space was left between the two, but he cut that off too. He raked his gaze up and down her body, tongue dashing along his fang once more. 

“Get off of me, Wukong, please—” Her pleads did little to nothing in her favor, but…Ah, that tone, the absolute desperation, it only edged him on further. The Great Sage could only take it as the green flag to lean down, let his teeth ghost along her collarbone when he tugged her shirt down slightly.

“Hm? You want me to make you scream? Gotcha, princess.”

—꩜———

yeah idk man im tired have this its like 3:51 in the mornin’ anyways yan!wukong’d terrifyin cuz i said so yeahhh

—LUX

[hesitationss]

i was honestly worried my social skills would be messed up from the pandemic because i think i re-developed social anxiety that i had as a 6 year old when my dad (no english) would make me order fast food for us when we had lunch together or like do government paperwork or something. but the only difference really is that i’ll say “omg kill them! just kidding haha” as a response to negativity, like i’m still the same but even people i meet are so easy to read when they think they’re not and there’s so little social/ self awareness. like there’s a massive deterioration of social infrastructure. the point of school prior to university is really to learn how to be a person and become well adjusted and deal with everyday life, and it’s kind of wild but unsurprising how 2+ year of government negligence and active harm has like massively distorted… everyone… like i’m always like “help im crazy” like i frequently think there are people living in my walls and hiding around every corner and have tactile hallucinations of things crawling under my skin but i’m also like a decently adjusted person… i dont think people realize just how ill they became even if they never got “sick” whether it was how they see themselves physically or becoming disillusioned w society or becoming dependent on dopamine they got from apps to fill the social void… much to think about

[t-lindamore]

Life is Full of Trickery

Took a wrong turn and ended up in the deepest darkest room of my life

The path happened to be covered in flowers to hide the bloodstained earth 

The bright light dulled by the haze of loneliness

But how was I supposed to know that this paradise path leads to hell

I simply lost concentration and took the carbon copy of the road I should have taken 

Sorry I guess its my fault

I didn't notice the eerie air filled with doubts and the smell of disaster

I should have recognized the sounds of screams behind the radio chatter

Now I'm stuck in the dungeon where I locked all my creepy crawling negative thoughts

Surrounded by walls filled with every overthought interaction 

I Sit down expecting tears but the stale air has sucked them away

The shaking doesn't stop

Yet the path has transformed back into its nightmarish self, no more trickery

No one expects me to have walked down the path of self loathing

“Please, Im sorry it was a trick” But no one can hear the cries

-TM

[the-cookie-of-doom]

The best part about where I live is that I can walk five minutes away and be in the middle of no where, so when I scream my throat hoarse there’s no one to hear.

[archived-lehkonen]

☕️ + arsi (i am enabling u pls go wild)

WHERE THE FUCK DO I BEGIN.

i love him the way salt loves oceans, the way a ship loves its sails, the way astronauts look up a the night sky in wonder, the way my ancestors looked at fire for the first time and didn't have a word for warmth but knew what it meant to be warm. i adore him the same way rust loves to turn metal, the way bones love to break and mend, i love him the way sand loves skin. i see him and i want to eat the sun until its light shines between the spaces of my teeth, drips from the seam of my mouth, pours from the orifices of my fucking face.

he's way too humble for his own good, he's never known what it's like to be mad, and i wish he did. i wish he understood that negative emotions are still emotions, that working through it doesn't mean slinking off into the recesses of his mind until he felt better or forgot about it. i wish he knew that he was levels better than how montreal treated him, better than what the coaches there knew what to do with him. i wish he understood that he was relegated to his status in montreal because of them and not at all because of him. he's a star in his own right, someone who's so defensively responsible and so incredibly hardworking especially on the forecheck (absolutely beautiful, the way he plays. sometimes i watch clips of him shutting down top players and i get shivers). and he's a player that loves the game , loves what he's doing, and i want him so badly to do well in the next few years and i want him to grow and become an even better player and really show montreal what theyre msising out on by shopping him at the deadline.

i get it, in a way, from a very shallow and periphery pov , i understand how arsi became the player that he is today and of course a lot of that is attributed to his move to the SHL from liiga but it breaks my heart whenever i think about the fact that this fucking kid moved to a different country with his older brother after playing too well in liiga, and then point blank was told, "you won't be a superstar here, start over" and was told to work on the fourth line and crawl his way up if he had what it took. he still became so dynamic and powerful in his own right but i often think abotu that, i think about the effect his father had on his mental growth and emotional well being, and everything stings .

and then he was drafted in the middle of the second round instead of the first round, and even then he'd been humble, he'd learned that this was better than not being drafted at all, but what he doesn't understand is that he deserved more than what life threw his way.

also, he's a mousey boy, sort of hunched in on himself and a wall flower but his laughter fills the space he takes the same way light touches every corner of a dark room when the switch is flipped on. he's so funny too, and incredibly quick-witted, and he hates media (who doesnt) but when he's around people he loves, he cannot shut up. im so endeared by him.

and he remains kind and lovely. even after all the shit that's happened to him, relegated to being a third line presence, a shut down player who doesn't contribute offensively even though he has the skill to, someone who'd learned to laugh through the pain, who'd probably looked heavenward once or twice and begged to stay in montreal but got shopped out anyways, someone who for the first time in his life felt unmoored, he remains kind. i dont think i would ever have the grace to face the world if i were in his shoes, i dont think i could look my father in the eye and smile, i dont think i could leave montreal without feeling like id never be whole again. but he did. he did all of those things and he's remained beamish as ever.

his trajectory probably hasn't been what he thought it would be but i am so , so , so fucking glad that montreal sent him off to colorado out of every other team in the league, i'm glad hes playing with teammates who are this skilled, im glad hes got a coach that sees him for what he actually is and not as what his reputation has painted of him. and im so glad that after all this bullshit, he's still enjoying hockey.

send me a topic + ☕️ emoji and i’ll tell my honest opinion about it! 

[itsagrimm]

Changing tides

I. EBB

Walon Vau X OC

CN: violence, abuse, abuse of children, injury, mentions of blood, BAD mental health and teenage angst, mentions of contemplation of suicide, spiralling negative thoughts. also shameless amounts of damsel in distress

Mando’a translation at the end.

The alarm was loud, he knew that. But the adrenaline and the static rush in his ears made it a background noise he hardly noticed. Every imaginable screen and light flashed warnings at him. His hands were sweaty and shaky from the stress. Space was new. It was so different from the planetary horizon, from the sea, from home.

He gazed through the front. One planet was close, habitable according to his instruments.

His saving island.

He pushed a few buttons, making the spacecraft jerk forward under metallic protest and entered the atmosphere. It got hot. Desperately he tried to slow his descent. The machine only wheezed and gave out completely.

He bared his teeth into a grimace and concentrated. Every ship, may it be for space or sea, worked the same in the end. He could steer manually if he managed to unfold the solar sail wings. Wiping sweat off his face he ran into the back of the hull of the ship and grabbed a bar lying on the floor. He knew that the wings controlled the air flow when entering the atmosphere like an alba to sail through the air. Working from memory he started hammering against the hull wall where he placed the left folded wing. It took an entity before the hull cracked. Ignoring his tired protesting muscles, he reached into the crack and felt for the mechanical wing. It was hot from the burning freefall through the atmosphere but intact. With something between his strong muscles and sheer force of will, he pushed the wing and unfolded it. With a fluttering sound in the solar sail the wing stretched out and tensioned up from the headwind. He ran into the cockpit and checked the instruments. He had slowed the fall.

But not enough.

He ran back, picking up the bar and started hitting the right hull. His arms protested and the cold wind from the broken left-hull-side made him stumble. But he kept swinging the bar. He had to. He could not die here. The bar, already rusty and broken just like the rest of the ship, shattered into pieces. He did not even hesitate and started hammering against the hull with his own hands until there was blood. But he hardly made a dent in the enforced wall. He felt his hands seizing in pain but ignored it. He had to survive. He would not die like a lesser man.

Before he could make it through to the other wing, he felt a blow go through the ship. Everything became detached. In instinct he covered his head with his bleeding hands, feeling his body getting tossed around in the ship. Another blow. He kept his eyes closed to shield them from small debris and prayed that for once in his kriffing life he would get lucky. He needed to.

One last blow and he fell, his body battered and bruised. Carefully he opened his eyes and slowly started to move. He had blood on himself. But he could feel all his limbs. He felt no pain – yet. He knew he would, sooner than later. The ship had stopped moving. Winds were howling and snowflakes danced into the hull through the crack. He smelled ozone. Kriff. He started crawling out of the hull, tearing holes from the cracked metal into his clothes before collapsing on the snow. Behind him he heard the core of the spaceship imploding from the ozone leak. He tasted blood but ignored it and got on all fours again. He had to keep moving. He had to survive and return - to her. He would not die here. He was not going to allow himself to.

XXXXX

- INVITATION FOR THE HONORABLE WALON VAU -

SON OF COUNT OF GESL

To celebrate PRINCESS MARITA OF ERIO’s 19th Birthday, a ceasefire between Gesl and Erio has been agreed on. It is with great joy that the princess coming of age will be celebrated with the beginnings of peace talks and dance.

Your presence would be of utmost importance and value to us.

XXXXX

He wakes up from the sound of someone wading through the deep snow. It’s cold. His torn clothes give little protection against the elements. Kriff, he doesn’t know if the clothes hold his shattered body together or the other way around.

The snow is painfully white in his eyes, and he squints at the figure approaching him and the wreckage of the ship, drawing his little fibro blade from his belt. Before he can call out, something jumps out of the snow and knocks him back. It has teeth and an inconceivable number of limbs blocking his every move and growls at him. He looks at the beast on top of him: golden fur, an unimaginable stench and patient eyes observing him.

“Mird! Ba’slanar!”

The Animal jumps off him and he stumbles up, his little knife ready and drawn.

The armored figure stands before him, the strange animal stalking in anticipation behind them.

“Who are you?” He calls out.

The Armored chuckles and a voice, modulated through the helmet, answers. “It takes guts to draw this ridiculously small toothpick of a knife against a Mandalorian.”

He eyes at the knife in his hand. Irmenu navy standard. Ideal to cut ropes and gutting fish, but hardly for a fight. He deepens his combat stance and looks back at the Armored before him.

“What are you going to do? Fight me with this? You can barely stand, ad’ika.” The Armored shakes their head in amusement. “Tell me instead, who are you and why I should not cut you down here?”

He bares his teeth. “I am Walon. My ship crashed. I had no intention of being here. It just was the best option when my engines gave out.”

“Walon, ey?” The armored looks back at the scrap-pile that is his ship. “A wonder you survived that. This ship looks ancient. Where are you from?”

“Irmenu.”

“My condolences. Point-no-more on Mandalore definitely is a step up from that miserable rock.”

“Can’t say I had a pleasant time here so far.”

The helmet leans to the side.

“Tell you what, Walon.” The Armored speaks. “Lower your little toothpick. You can’t fight me anyway. And you need help. You will bleed to death, or freeze to death, or one of the mountain lions will get you.”

He keeps his knife up.

“Why should I trust you?”

The golden animal stalks closer in anticipation of a fight.

“Di’kut. Because you have little choice. Lower your weapon.”

He hesitates. He needed to survive and the Armored was right. But Walon had his difficulty trusting a faceless stranger.

The furred animal stepped closer. Walon aimed his knife in its direction.

“Adi’ka, I wouldn’t do that if I were you. The strill is a kind animal but it would take you down and I don’t want to clean your blood out its precious fur.”

Walon’s eyes darted between the animal called a strill and the Armored. In panic and pain, he froze in his position, knife up.

“Alright then, adi’ka. I am getting impatient.”

Something blue washed over Walons vision and everything went black.

XXXXX

Walon, my love.

I miss you. It has been hours since the last time we saw each other. But it’s already too long ago. I am writing to you because paper is more patient. The governess rolls her eyes every time I mention you. I fear one day she rolls them too far back and they get stuck. Paper it is.

Papa is very busy. I haven’t seen him since the ball. But I will ask him about marriage plans for me once I do. Maybe I can convince him that it would be most beneficial for the Kingdom if it’s princess would marry the future Count of Gesl. I am sure you can only agree to my political scheming.

I love you and I long to be with you.

Mari

XXXXX

Walon woke up from a wet snout sniffling his face. He tried to move up, but pain made him fall back immediately.

He looked around. He was in a small but cosy hut. The animal with the golden furr was sitting next to a small cot where Walon was laid on, staring at him curiously. There was a fireplace with warm bright flames dancing in it and a pot above with something bubbling inside.

He looked down at his body and tried to move more carefully. He was stripped off his clothes and his wounds were bandaged. A simple blanket was keeping him warm.

A door opened and the armored figure entered from the snow, carrying wood inside.

“You’re awake. Finally, I started to worry you wouldn’t wake anymore and that I dragged you up the slope for nothing.” The armored said with that modulated voice.

Walon opened his mouth to say something, but he only managed a miserable croak.

“Don’t worry. We can have insightful conversations some other day. Let me help you.”

With that the armored removed their helmet and stepped to the pot. Walon’s eyes widened. The powerful armored warrior with the fearsome beast and reflexes like a predator was an elderly human woman. She laughed at his reaction and started pouring soup from the pot into a bowl.

“On Irmenu the old women might be pushed into submission and silence. On Mandalore however we all are shabla Mandalorians, and we stay so for life. Now, open your mouth. You need nourishment.”

Walon obeyed and the elder fed him the bowl of soup he couldn’t hold. After he was done, she got another bowl for him and helped him again.

He felt the tasty warmth of the liquid run through his body and a pleased moan escaped his lips before he fell asleep from exhaustion again.

He woke up to the familiar pain. His eyes darted through the hut. The strill, as the woman had called it, was rolled into a furry ball and soundly asleep making cute snoring sounds in front of the fireplace. The old woman was sitting in a chair next to it. She had gotten rid of her armor and was knitting. With her gray hair, simple clothing, and wrinkled face she nearly passed for an ordinary grandmother – except for the blaster at her hip.

Walon cleared his throat, testing his ability to speak.

“Feeling better?”, she continued knitting while looking at him.

“Hmmm.” He managed.

“Good.”

More knitting.

“I-“He tried with a raspy voice. “I don’t understand why you helped me. Thank you.”

She put down her knitting yarn.

“Adi’ka.” The woman said with a kindly scolding voice. “I saw that you are no danger for me or my people. You clearly were nothing but an unlucky traveler on your last leg. Your ship and equipment gave that away. Or at least what was left of it. For me you are nothing but a child in need. A foundling. And I follow my people’s way and protect the children in my care.”

“I’m not a child.”

Her eyes gleamed in amusement. “What are you? 18 years? 20? Shab. Please. You are a child to me. An Adi’ka.”

He tried to follow her explanation but couldn’t.

“What’s your clan’s name, adi’ka?” She asked.

“Vau. Walon Vau.”

“My pleasure, Walon Vau. Call me Amaia of Clan Mereel. Care for some soup, Walon?”

XXXXX

The clicking sounds of the broad receiver on the old two-master war ship woke up the captain. Tired he stumbled over to the table, fumbled with his glasses and started reading the little morse coded words.

-Beginning of message – stop - Alert – stop - Breach of ceasefire between Gesl and Erio - stop - All forces are called to caution – stop - Reserve Forces are ordered to their units - stop - may the saints bless and protect us from the storm - full stop - end of message-

XXXXX

It was cold outside. The snow crunched under his borrowed boots and the reflecting sun was painful in his eyes. Amaia was walking next to him. Slowly, supporting his weight and helping him walk after days of being indoors and bedridden. Despite his lanky height and presumably weight, she moved sturdy and unforgivingly just like her armor.

“I am taking too long to heal.”

She turned her head, only the reflecting visor facing him.

“Di’kut, you are lucky that you survived. What did you expect? To jump up and start running again?”

“I need to-“

She moved her elbow and slightly touched his side through his coat. Walon cried out in pain and stumbled, with clenched teeth he kept up and muffled and further cry. Only weak men cry.

“Proves my point, adi’ka. Look at you.” Amaia grumbled like a cat at her kitten. “You are in pieces. What you need to do is rest and heal up. You can’t do much else anyway.”

Walon closed his eyes and fought back the pain. His wounds, especially the one Amaia had touched, throbbed intensely. His mind swirled around, unable to think about anything else but the pain. And her.

As much as he hated to admit. Amaia was right. He had to heal first.

“Let’s go back, Walon.” Amaia called him back. “You start to look not just wounded but also like a frozen scarecrow. Let’s not add something fun like pneumonia or frostbites to your problems and get you into the warmth again.”

He nodded grimly and turned back to the hut barely meters behind them.

Feeling like he fought his body for every minuscule move, he started walking. Slowly.

Lord Mirdalan, the golden strill, purred at the sight of Amaia and Walon returning so fast, as if it was asking how their pathetically short walk went.

Walon nodded at the animal. He felt rude not to and collapsed back onto the cot. His body was tired as if he had marched for days. Yet Walon forced himself up again and started getting out of the borrowed boots and coat.

After he was done, he placed them in orderly fashion at the door and returned to his spot.

“Thank you for the clothes, Amaia.” He said, remembering his strict upbringing.

“You are welcome. They used to belong to my youngest. Was a scarecrow like you. But we’ll change that and get some good healthy fat on your thin frame.”

Walon nodded, unsure how to respond to that.

Amaia was looking at him, her helmet off.

“You are a strong lad, Walon.” She said. “Surviving a crash like that, standing up against me with your wounds, pushing yourself even now … it's reckless but that’s the mando spirit.”

“I don’t even know what the mando spirit is supposed to be?”

“The Mando spirit is the stuff that makes warriors strong, friends everlasting and parents …well, busy.”

Amaias words punched him in the gut in the least expected way.

“No.” He just replied. “My father said I wasn’t good enough.”

Amaia just raised her eyebrow.

“I was not born a Mandalorian. I was born a Vau on Irmenu. I am not enough.” He insisted.

“So what? Mandalorian is a way of life, not necessarily a birthright.”

“Those born Mandalorian are not considered Mandalorian?”

“If they don’t claim their heritage, then no. Everyone gets a choice.” Amaia sat down in her chair at the fire and started adding wood.

“I am not saying that you are or need to become anything.” She continued. “But I have seen many warriors, many Mando’ade in my life. You are enough and you are a fool not to believe me.”

Walon leaned back. The mention of his family and his constant disappointing was a harsh memory. On Irmenu he was the son of a Count. And yet he felt like the most miserable creature on that rock. Not good enough for his family. Not good enough to join the Navy according to his father. Barely good enough to be beaten over and over and over again for his many failures as the miserable existence that he was.

There was only one being on Irmenu that made his life bearable – her.

He would return to her. He would find a way.

Despite all his failures and weaknesses, he would free her.

Maybe, and Walon barely dared to consider it, Amaia was right and there was something useful and admirable in him.

XXXX

My Love

I fear for us. The war that brought us together threatens to part us again. Papa will never agree to a marriage between us now. The governess agreed to keep us a secret and will relay my letters to you. They are my lifeline in these wild waters.

Brother left the castle to take command of the western armada. And you too, I fear, will be called to battle sooner than later. My heart aches. As much as I know that you want to join the battles and that you consider it your duty, I only wish for you to be safe and with me. Forgive my selfishness but I am the one left behind wondering if my brother and my love are facing each other in fight.

Be safe, I beg of you my love, and return to me. We will find a way.

Love,

Mari

XXXXX

Mird jumped through the snow like a strilling seeing snow for the first time. Happy little whines and cries escaped the strills maw, always turning back to Walon and making sure the human was keeping up.

Weeks had passed. Walon had recovered enough to start moving on his own again, helping Amaia around the hut and exploring the area around their little home. The slope they lived on was covered in new snow, the trees were low and knotty. Their roots exposed by the howling wind and the ever-changing elements.

The young man made his way through the odd forest, further up the slope he had ever managed to climb.

“Wait for me!” He called after Mird and the strill howled in response.

Finally, they made it up and Walon stopped to look from the edge of the slope down into the next valley. It was full of the same low trees, covered in snow, and in the middle was the wreck of his ship. It was in pieces, most of it sooty and black from the implosion. Nothing but a pile of ash and garbage.

He felt a whimper escaping his lips and tears starting to flow.

How was he to make it back to Irmenu with his ship in shatters? How was he to save her? All the accumulated hope from the last days due to his rising strength and recovery, left him in one nearly suppressed sob.

He staggered and fell to his knees, finally crying.

All his efforts and all his pain were worth nothing if he was stuck here. He felt helpless, a failure, a waste of space.

He should just stay here and freeze to death.

A snout licked over his face.

Mird, the strill with its unbearable stench, nudged Walon as if to ask what was going on.

Walon closed his eyes, bracing himself against the stench so close to his face. It was like smelling salts forcing him to snap out of his dark spiraling thoughts and facing reality.

The strill licked him again and Walon groaned. It really was a stinky animal. With soft intelligent eyes.

He padded the strills head.

“Thank you, Mird.”

The strill pressed its head into Walons shoulder and rolling its golden body around him.

“Are you trying to hug me, Mird?”

The animal purred and licked over his face again, swiping away the last tears. Walon looked down into the valley at the shipwreck. Yes, it likely was unsalvable. But he would find another way. Like the strill surviving up here among the high frozen mountain peaks on Mandalore, he too would survive. And would be stronger for it.

“You are a good strill, Mird. Looking out for me.” Walon hesitated. Amaia spoke that other language with the golden fur bundle. “Mird-ika?”

The strill howled in delight and jumped around Walon before cuddling next to him into the snow, lifting its 6 legs and exposing its belly.

“You like that Mird-ika?” the young man scratched the strills soft warm underside. “Good Mird-ika! Yes, all the scratches for you, Mird.”

More howls and licks over Walons face.

“Oh Mird, you smelly lovely beast.”

The way back to the hut was easier. Walking down the slope with Mird ploughing through the snow and Walon following.

Amaia was at the hut, cutting wood from one of the small knotty trees. With her helmet and the armor on she looked nothing like the mouthy elder knitting socks in front of the fireplace.

“Amaia, can I help?”, Walon greeted and inquired.

She straightened up and looked at him before passing him the axe. “Here. But don’t overdo it. We have enough time and there is no need to rush. You are still not at your full strength.”

He nodded and started working.

“Hey Amaia, do you ever leave the slope?” He asked between his swings.

“Shab, of course I do. I and a few other loners guard this closed off area for my people during the cold months as requested by the Mand’alor. With the snow gone, I leave. No need to guard then. The weather is stable enough to check on the area from ship then.”

“Are there settlements where I could find passage back to Irmenu down the mountain?”

“Di-kut! Don’t you know anything about Mandalore? This is not a backwater planet. We are an ancient warrior and mercenary civilization. Of course, there are ships traveling to wherever you need to go. Shab, but why of all places do you want to go back to that sorry place? Looked like you nearly made it away from there last time.”

Walon stopped cutting the wood and turned to Amaia. Her expressionless visor stared at him

“I got exiled from Irmenu. But I need to return to save my fiancé. She got locked up because of me.”

Amaia tilted her head. “Oh. I wasn’t aware that the youths today are into lanky boys with messy hair. I would congratulate you on having a riduur, but it feels that is not the moment. Yet. Come inside. Let’s talk.”

The freshly cut wood fumed before catching fire. Mird sneezed and moved away from the fireplace. Walon sympathetically padded its head.

Amaia sat down on her spot in the comfortable chair and turned to him.

“Tell me about your fiancé, ad’ika.”

Walon swallowed and considered his words before speaking.

“I am the son of a count on Irmenu. She is a princess. We met during negotiations between our families to resolve a military conflict. The negotiations failed but we kept in touch, messaging and meeting secretly. And at some point, it just wasn’t us being friends or curious about someone else’s life anymore.”

He looked down, feeling himself blush at the memories.

“You fell in love with a woman out of your reach.” Amaia summed up without batting an eyelash.

“Yes.”, he confessed. “And I got exiled for it while she was locked up in a monastery.”

“Charming.”

They stayed silent for a moment until Amaia got up and grabbed an old bottle and 2 glasses.

“How about a drink, lad?”

Walon stared at Amaia in surprise. No one had ever reacted positively to his love for her. And now he got offered a drink, a blank expression and no insults.

He nodded.

And Amaia poured a strong-smelling spirit into both glasses.

“This is Tihaar.” She explained. “Drink it slowly.”

He took a sip and grimaced.

“Amaia, what is this? If you want me to go blind, just stab out my eyes and it will only be slightly faster than this pure ethanol.”

She took another sip and smiled at his reaction. “A hard drink for hard people having a tough talk. Also, I can’t have you blushing for your love when I need you to have a straight talk with me.”

He looked down at the glass again and took another sip.

“You want to get her out of that monastery?” Amaia asked.

“Yes, I promised her. But I saw the shipwreck today. No way that thing will fly again.”

“It’s a wonder it took off in the first place. Yeah, you will need a different ship.”

He nodded.

“Amaia, when will the snow melt? When can I get down from the mountains?”

She snorted. “Lad, you’ll have to learn how to be patient. The snow will not melt for another 4 months.”

He felt a knot in his stomach and he wasn’t sure if that came from the tihaar.

Amaia finished her drink with a curse and poured herself another.

“Drink.” She ordered. “It won’t help but the burn helps sharpen the mind for a moment.”

He obeyed, biting his tongue to distract himself from the horrible taste.

“Alright, adi’ka. Let’s talk balac.”

He raised his eyebrows in question.

Amaia grumbled.

“It’s hard to speak basic when the tihaar runs.” She mumbled. “I know the situation is not ideal for you. As much as I enjoy having some company here when guarding point-no-more, you need to get to you riddur, your… fiancé and save her. But you can’t due to the snow. You are stuck. And you are still weakened from your injury. And when you make it down the mountain, you have no money or skill to pay for a transport to Irmenu nor do you have the skills to get her out of there. It’s a shabla situation.”

“Yes, thanks Amaia for summarizing my sorry existence.” Walon replied sourly. The tihaar started to work and made him feel the anger slowly pushing away the sadness and self-pity.

“Patient Wa-ika. I wasn’t finished.” Amaia raised her glass. “You need to become more than you are right now. And I can show you how. I can show you how to be Mando’ade. I told you, you have the stuff.”

“Why would that help?”

“Because Mandalorians overcome or perish and that is exactly what you need right now.”

XXX

next chapter will be out soon.

Write me a message if you want to get tagged.

XXX

Mando'a Translations

-ika – affectionate suffix

Ade - child

Riduur – spouse, partner

Tihaar- strong Mandalorian type of alcohol

Di’kut – idiot

Shab – shit

Mand’alor – the title for the unofficial leader of the Mandalorian people/ ruler of Mandalore

Mando’ade - Mandalorians

Mandokar – the right stuff to be Mandalorian

Vod – brother, sister, sibling

Ba’slanar – leave, depart, exit

Balac - opportunity

[remsmoonlight]

— title : calming the waters

— word count : 2.3 k words

— pairing : rick grimes x reader

— summary : the switch from surviving on the road to living in a cookie cut neighbourhood hasn’t been easy on anyone, especially the leader of your group, you leave it to yourself to remind him it’s not all on his shoulders

— warnings : only brief descriptions of blood and violence .. usual stuff for twd

note: only at the end did i realise i left the opportunity for smut but im too tired to continue damn

Life in Alexandria has so far been strange to adjust to, you continue to find yourself waking up regularly through the night. Your body has relied so long on a broken sleep cycle it simply cannot switch off the switch as easily as you wish for it, and wish for it you do every night before bed. However, life refuses to heed to your desires, preferring to disregard them completely. Your family finds it amusing to tease you about the dark circles under your eyes, that is after you have had anything with caffeine in to rattle your system into a state of alertness.

How the residents have made it this far agitates you to no end, while you and your family have suffered tragedy and loss at the hands of people like the Governor, to the people at Terminus while they sat sheltered and safe from the horrors of this new world crawls under your skin. The thought scratching inside of you, they’ve never known pain as you have, the realisation comes as one of the sons of the Monroe family accosted you the moment you set out of the door.

“ ⏤ she keeps going on about this pasta maker. I’m telling you, she never stops. “

“ she never stops, huh? “ you ask, placing yourself on the porch step with your head lazily resting in your hands. You felt as soon as he began speaking to you it was going to be a conversation you would not be interested in.

The you from twenty five minutes ago happens to be correct.

This all began because Rick thought it appropriate to let you sleep a while longer, and while you do feel more rested than you have in the longest time you can remember, you can feel irritation tickling the back of your neck intensely. Oh, I’m going to kill him when I see him. A silent thought interrupts you rudely, you almost shake your head to be rid of it and focus back on Spencer.

“ yeah, she’s not someone you wanna be caught right now by. She can talk your ears off for days. “ he informs with a chuckle, completely unaware of your blasé attitude or uncaring for it.

“ you know, I can really imagine that. “

Every inch of you is buzzing with an uncomfortable energy, you don’t want to integrate with their community just yet, preferring to feel around and understand the dynamics of how everything works. When society fell into the flames from humanity’s last fight with the walkers, you were lucky enough to have been able to seek safety with your group back in Atlanta at the quarry, and these have been the same people you have spent time with, shared your meals with, everything done has been with them. Quiet town life has been a memory of a past life that has faded into nothing more than a grey blur, shrouded in fog. To live here? It’s like learning how to ride a bicycle after many years of letting it gather dust. Your ways are not perfect, but they’re perfect for you. For your own pace and peace of mind.

“ has my mom given you a job yet? “

“ uh, yeah actually she has. I used to be a preschool teacher before everything went to hell. “ you explain to him, your memories of the children you used to teach had been painful until Judith. The little girl had been what you needed to confront your past that you had been so quick to push away in order to survive. You can’t count how many times you’d come close to thinking about their little faces, and if they’d survived the initial chaos, refusing to even put a face to a possible death. You’d spent many days and many hours getting to know their audacious and bold personalities, it cut you deep to even imagine the days they were supposed to have, the lives they should have been promised extinguished so prematurely as if they had been no more than a flame of a candle burning in the night.

“ well, those classes are really small. You won’t have your hands full. I suppose you’ll probably be helping with the afternoon classes, we’ve got more teenagers here. “

“ mhm, I thought as much. “ your words are a small acknowledgement, though it deterred him little.

Spencer keeps talking and talking, every once in a while you mutter an ‘ yeah ‘ or an ‘ mhm ‘ and even at points humming in response. It’s obvious he means well and is trying to get to know you all but it’s just a simple clash of cultures, it’s why you’re unable to cut the conversation short so rudely. Even during the apocalypse being respectful hasn’t been wiped away.

Yet.

“ hi, Spencer! “ the sugary sweet tone of Carol interrupted the interaction as she greets Spencer and yourself, the broad smile ignites her features.

Although, you know her better to know this is not one born of genuine emotion to see the man.

“ I was hoping to borrow my friend here. Rick’s looking for them. “

Recognition lights his features up, his eyes widen in understanding her words. Never have you been more thankful for the older woman than currently, if there’s one thing Carol can be, is a miracle maker. Spencer backs away with little to say, bidding a goodbye to both of you.

“ Carol, thank you. “ you breathe, your hands move up to scratch your scalp as tension eased away into the open air. “ I thought he was never going to leave. “

“ yeah, I thought you were in trouble. I thought you were ready to kill him. “

“ believe me, if he spoke for two more minutes I was coming close to getting very creative with one of those blunt dinner knives in there. “ you speak, a short giggle plummeting from your lips at the thought.

“ he’s at the gate ⏤ Rick, that is. If you want him. “

A few more words of light hearted humour are exchanged between you, just little things. You have known Carol for a long time, one of the few people to continue to see her as a human after losing Sophia, yes she was in mourning, but she was still human. You never tiptoed around her, you offered her support as best you could and for that she continues to be grateful. Even in the prison, you became closer, as time passed on she took up something of a parental role in your life. Though you were old enough at the time to not need one, you accepted it. A slice of normality granted to you for what reason you have never found out, but one you wouldn’t seek out either, for some things happen without cause or reason, a mystery of life.

Turning around a corner, you’d realised you took a wrong turn around one of the houses, your sense of direction would have been your downfall had you not found the people you now call your family. Admittedly, you’d not spent much time exploring the vast environment that is home to these large homes, you still dedicated some time to mapping all the twists and turns. However, not even that has aided you. Despite this, you find a silver lining to getting lost.. you have been able to shake off whatever blades of irritation that sorely wished to cling to your being for longer, you wanted nothing more than to approach Rick without anything that could set him off.

Though few words have been shared between you both about how you all feel about being in Alexandria, it doesn’t mean you haven’t noticed a tension building its blocks within Rick. Knowing all he has been through, you’re worried that he will reduce himself to being no more than a caged animal, biding his time to break free. It’s why you’re searching him out, a discussion is sorely needed before anything should happen, chaos has a way of trailing your family like a puppy following its master.

“ there you are. “

Rick lays his sights on you in the distance, waiting for you to move closer before saying a word. You would go so far as to say it has been one of the few instances of genuine contentment as his features relax from the lines of strain it held not even a few moments previously. Your hands move straight to your hips, standing a few metres away from him.

“ oh, you were actually looking for me? “ eyebrows raise ever so slightly, you thought Carol had been simply nudging you in his direction.

“ just to check the perimeter. “

“ and you need me for that ? “ you question him as your hands move to rest on your hips, a knowing smile lifting your expression as you observe him.

“ ‘course I do. “ Rick’s tone matches yours, it’s been a while since you’ve heard even the faintest hint of amusement associated with the intense male. It’s alien in a sense, though you’re welcoming of it.

Few words are exchanged with the Alexandrian who has been tasked with guarding the gate, exchanging the barest of information you realise as you watch Rick. You hope that even an hour outside the walls of the town is enough to soothe even the slightest of the negative energy that surrounds his being. Your situation is not perfect, and it’s inverted to what you had been experiencing previously, but you believe in your heart that this has to work. The thought of your family not being able to survive yet another bout of the outside world terrifies you to your core, the ice that is your fear erupting from your centre at the idea.

“ is there a real reason why you wanted me out here? “

“ it’s been a while since it was just us, gettin’ hard to breathe in there. “

“ Rick, you know I’m always here if you need it. I hate to see you carry everything on your shoulders the way you do. “

The hardness that had embedded itself into his face slowly eases at your words and thanks you for your support, he reaches out in between the distance that separates you to slip his fingers between yours. A comfort warms you in a way that no heat could at the action, you’re unable to stop the laugh that bursts free with a splutter. Even back on the road, and he was at his wits end, he was never this affectionate. It’s not something you hold against him though, there were many more things on his mind that required more attention.

“ somethin’ funny? “ he questions you immediately.

“ seeing this side of you, it’s just a bit weird. A good kind of weird, though. “ you assure, continuing to walk over the overgrown branches. “ you’re doing okay? Like, really? “

“ just hard to get used to. These people have just been lucky. “

You nod in understanding, it’s been your first thought every morning since walking through that gate with months of dirt and grime that had accumulated, clinging to every inch of your skin. While blood from the dead dried into your skin, becoming part of you, they lathered themselves in floral perfumes and sprays. As much as you want to allow the venom to pool within you, to form a monster born of hate ⏤ you can’t.

In this world you can’t be driven by such emotions, to aim them at innocent people. Had you been in their position, would it be such an easy position to leave this protected bubble? A piece of the previous world left untouched by the cold, ghostly grip of the dead.

“ we can’t hold it against them. “

“ they’re weak, they could get one of ours killed. “ he quietly grumbles in response, his head shaking at the thought. They’d lost too much already, and he would be damned if he lost any more members of his family, especially now they’d reached an element of safety.

“ or they might not? “ you counter his statement, your eyes pleading as you stop where you stand, your hands still connected.

“ we can’t deal in maybes, we deal in certainties. “

“ what are you suggesting, Rick? That we take over? “ you ask, your brows dropping lower. You’d seen enough death and violence to last you a lifetime, you’d had enough for now. You can’t confirm if you have enough energy for another fight. Too much has been lost.

“ if it comes to it. “

“ this is their home now, our home. They’re not bad people. “ you argue lightly, not wishing for a heated disagreement out there. Any walker around would be attracted by the noise and then the smell of the living, you’ve begun to get used to not having to slaughter walkers every day.

“ no, but they’re unprepared. “

“ so were we at some point! “ inch by inch, you close the distance. You rest your grip on his forearms, trying to calm him no matter how useless it may or may not be. “ Rick, you’re trying to create a problem. I get this is an adjustment and if anything does happen, we’ll have you back. We will fight, but for the sake of safety.. we have somewhere to actually live. “

Against his better judgement he nods, just to put a stop to the conversation. He’d wanted to spend some time alone with you that held no prying eyes from Alexandrians, nor the entertained gazes of your group.

“ let’s just see how things go, and try not to keep things bottled up. It never works out. “

“ I’m not sure you want me to share my deep, dark secrets. “ he asserts with a playful inkling hidden poorly within his words.

A smirk lines itself into your features, you’re feeling the energy from Rick and you can’t deny that it feels good. You lift your chin higher, inching your lips closer to his, the warm glow beginning to burn brighter ⏤ a silent dare in the form of a quiet whisper on your tongue. “ try me. “

[deaddovecoterie]

confessions

co-written with @whoseblogsthis

Peeta Mellark x Fem!Reader

Prompt: “Isn’t it obvious? I’m in love with you!” 

Fandom: the hunger games

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.6k

Warning(s): swearing, unedited, two oblivious dumbasses in love

Genre(s): angst, fluff

A/N: LMAO HI GUYSSSS. so i had the INSANE privilege of writing with my mutual, friend, and insanely talented writer, @whoseblogsthis, ky. i obviously couldn’t have done this without her and im so so blown away by her and her talents. this is basically our child and baby and so im basically screaming right now cause we just finished this and its 1:01am. ANYWAY i really really hope you guys love this as much as we loved writing it <3 mwuah love you all

main stuff -> y/n (your name)

-> e/c (your eye colour)

-> y/l/n (your last name)

Peeta Mellark. 

He was your constant; your rock. You could rely on him for anything and everything.

He was the steadiest thing you’d had in your life for a long time now, but as he took your wrist and led you upstairs away from the party, you couldn’t help but feel the anger bubble up in your chest. 

“Peeta, what—”

“Why?” he nearly shouts. Peeta is mild mannered. He’s many things, actually; polite, charming, and personable, but angry was not one of them. It didn’t scare you like you’d always expected it to, but rather frustrated you. 

“Why what, Peeta?” you hiss back. 

He looks at you as if you had just grown two heads, his brows knit together in disbelief.

“You’re joking,” he breathes. You shake your head, not understanding what he is trying to get at. You defensively cross your arms, knowing the juvenile element would annoy him, but having nothing to do with your hands increases your already anxious state.

“That guy,”

“That guy?”

“Yes, y/n, yes. That guy that was just a little too friendly with you? So close to you that he was practically crawling under your goddamn skin? What were you thinking?”

You laugh at him, unable to contain it. “I can handle myself perfectly fine. Why are you being such an ass?” you all but shout at him. “It’s none of your business anyway?” 

“Hm, let’s see y/n, he could’ve, god, I don’t know, taken advantage of you?” 

You scoff, unable to handle his cliché statement. 

He brings his hands up and pushes his hair back, looking up at the ceiling as he exhales heavily through his nose. You squint at him, unable to read the emotions on his face. 

“What is up with you?” you whisper, not quite sure if he was able to hear. Your eyes narrow, unsure of what his next words might be. 

“For someone so smart, you can be so goddamn oblivious sometimes, y/l/s.”

“Oh my god, what is with all the stupid riddles tonight? I can’t read your mind! You can’t expect me to just know things,” you exasperate, throwing your hands out in front of you. “For someone who’s supposed to be good at communication, you’re doing a pretty shitty job of displaying it,” you spit, throwing his words right back at him. 

“Fine,” he hisses, starting to move towards you.

You cock your eyebrow at him, your bodies coming closer, nearly closing the gap.

“Fine?” you question.

“Yeah.” he huffs out, repeating the word with an heir of finality, “yeah.” His breath warms your face, the scent of vodka invading your senses.

Your cheeks heat up, suddenly very aware of his proximity. You watch his adam's apple bob as he swallows thickly. He can’t meet your eyes, his heart hammering against his chest so loud that it feels as though you can hear it. His head drops along with his gaze, studying the floor before chancing a glance at you. Peeta lets go of a breathy laugh as words tumble out of his mouth.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he breathes, his words choked, hardly audible, him now looking you right in the eyes. Your stomach does a flip once, unsure of his next words. Blue eyes stare at your e/c ones that are clouded in confusion. You can feel his frustration start to build as he takes a step back from you, his voice rising and hands coming from his sides. 

“I’m in love with you,” he bursts out. 

Oh my god.

You stare at him in shock, his proclamation stunning you. You blink once, twice, as his words echoing through your head.

His hazel eyes bore into your e/c ones, willing you to say something, anything, to let him know you heard him. But yet you stand there, unable to find the words. 

Nothing is coming out.

Say something, you beg yourself, wanting to scream out an answer, yet your mouth continues to remain shut. You swallow hard, your tongue feeling like sandpaper. How could you be so oblivious to his feelings? You and him have known each other since childhood, yet there you are, standing only inches away from him, the truth finally known. It seemed 

The look in his eyes is absolutely heart-wrenching; if you hadn’t just heard him, you’d have thought he had lost his best friend. In a way, you guess, he had. 

Peeta just shakes his head softly, shrugging his shoulders in such a way that makes you want to reach out and take his hand. His dark waves fall over his eyes and he turns around, facing the door.

“I—” you begin, but you know it’s too late. 

“Just, um, forget it, y/n,” his voice soft, small, “I’ll see you in environmental studies.”

He opens the door and steps out into the hallway, closing the door behind him. You want to scream, to tell him to come back.  

“Dammit!” you exclaim, throwing your red solo cup as hard as you can at the wall. The contents spill all over, some of the liquid splashing on you but you can’t bring yourself to care. 

You reach to pull at your loosely braided hair, a habit of yours that came out whenever you were experiencing an excess of negative emotions, before you realize where you are. You harshly rub your eyes with the heels of your hands as you remind yourself to breathe. 

In, out . . . In, out. 

“Get it together,” you tell yourself, taking one last deep breath. “Okay.”

You turn to head back downstairs to the party, nothing on your mind except finding Peeta and setting everything straight, hoping at this point that that was even a possibility anymore. 

God, you hated this part. You hated having to make up. Saying sorry was never your strong suit, your pride always getting in the way. But this? This was not a matter of pride. This was about finally coming to terms with the truth that you so desperately tried to avoid for years. 

You almost trip as you descend the stairs, looking everywhere for Peeta but unable to find him anywhere in the crowd. 

Spotting a head of wavy bronze hair by the water cooler, you rush over to your english lit classmate, who is also a friend of Peeta’s; Finnick Odair. 

“Hey Finnick,” you say once you reach him, trying to keep your voice even. He greets you with his signature smirk before bringing his cup to his lips and taking a sip.

“Ah, y/n, having a good time I trust?”

“Trying to,” you grumble. Finnick gives you a quizzical look before you proceed; “Have you seen Peeta?” You can’t help but notice the slight crack in your voice when you say his name.

“Yeah,” he confirms, “I saw him leave a few minutes ago. Seemed pretty upset.” 

“Yeah, wonder why,” you mutter bitterly, knowing he wouldn’t hear your words above the music. 

You bite your lip, weighing the option of asking Finnick to help you find Peeta. Half of you wanted to go and find him yourself, your need to get the weight off your chest as quickly as possible, the other half of you wanting to stall for as long as you could.

 “Could you text him? Ask him where he is?” 

“Why can’t you?” 

You fight the urge to roll your eyes, your cheeks burning. “Because, I—” 

“Wait,” Finnick’s smile widens. “Wait, are you the reason he’s upset?” 

Your silence is enough for him. His dopey smile falters for a moment, an emotion that you could only define as realization sweeping over his face. He shakes his head softly, pulling his phone from the pocket of his hoodie and opening his texts. His thumbs glide swiftly across the screen as he compiles a message to send to Peeta. 

You can’t have been standing there for more than a minute when his phone dings. Finnick flashes you the screen. 

From: Pita Bread 

I’m fine... at the pond. 

“Thank you, Finnick, really,” you breathe.

He just nods, taking another sip of his drink. 

You rush out of the frat house the party was being held in, running across the street to Panem University’s main campus, willing your legs to go faster. 

The pond was at the northern end of campus, smack in the middle of Tribute Hall and the Coriolanus Snow Study Center. You see a silhouette sitting on one of the few stone benches surrounding the body of tranquil water, tossing handfuls of what you can only assume is trail mix at the ducks that liked to take up at the pond. 

You slow down, bringing your footfalls to a trot, then silently padding your way over the grass towards him. Your chest is heaving from the exertion as you try to make your breaths even.

“Peeta,” You call out, your voice void of any venom as you stalk towards the boy. You’re almost inclined to slap him because of how he acted. No rational person could expect someone to give them an answer to a question as heavily weighed as that right away. 

He stands up once you reach him, refusing to look you in the eyes. For a fleeting moment, you catch the grief-stricken look in his usually bright eyes and it’s enough to keep you from raising your hand at him. 

“Why did you leave like that?” you breathe out. He shrugs a shoulder with almost casual indifference. “Peeta.” you nearly plead, looking at him as your eyebrows knit together.

“What did you expect me to do?” he says feebly. 

You look up at the night sky, inhaling deeply as you hurriedly send off a prayer to whatever higher power that you can say everything you want to say to him, in the way you want to say it. 

In a way that says something to him. Means something. 

The stars seem to twinkle brighter, almost like they received your message. God, this is so hard.

Peeta is still looking anywhere but at you, his focus now on the ducks idling in the water. 

“You could have waited for me,” you say. “I mean, come on! That was… big. A big thing to drop on me,” you add, “so of course I was shocked. But if you had just waited for me . . .” 

“What?” he snorts, finally looking you in the eyes. “What would you have said that couldn’t have possibly made me feel like more of a fool than I already was? What—” 

“I love you,” you blurt. 

Here it goes.

“And not in a ‘you’ve always been there for me, so I’m kind of indebted to you’ kind of way but in a way that’s like, ‘I want to do cheesy stuff with you because I know it will make you smile.’ That’s like, I would do anything, anything to prove to you that I’m worthy of your love. Peeta, you’ve seen everything I was and everything I am, and it just— I just couldn’t believe when you said that . . . But I— I trust you with everything in me and it frightens me, because you know I’ve been hurt before, but I can’t deny that everything feels right when I’m with you. I just. I want another chance. If, if you’ll let me.” You breath the words out, hardly anything but air coming out.  

“Y/n, breathe.” 

“Right,” you exhale, your mind swirling around, making vertigo seem like a walk in the park. 

“You’re not . . . unworthy of love,” Peeta begins but he stops, trying to figure out his words. “What Cato did to you, it doesn’t mean you’re undeserving of love. He’s.. an asshole, who’s going to get what’s coming to him. I— I’m sorry for dropping it on you like that, but seeing you with that guy, he just reminded me so much of Cato, and it made me so mad because I didn’t want you to go through that again, and I.. couldn’t help but think it was my final chance to tell you how I felt.” 

“Final chance?” 

“Y/n, I’ve loved you since like year six.” 

“Peeta, you absolute dumbass!” you exclaim, quickly going to cover your mouth as your own words shock even yourself. “I’m sorry. It’s just . . . wow,” a laugh nearly escapes your lips. “We’re both oblivious fools, huh?” 

Peeta’s brows furrow in confusion, as you let out a soft chuckle. His head is tilted slightly to the side, his soft curls falling into his blue eyes. This moment is one you’ll always remember, you think to yourself, already trying to commit it to memory. The way the trees slightly sway from the late summer breeze, the moonlight reflecting off the water; best of all, the glint in Peeta’s eye when your gazes meet. It’s so cheesy, really, but you couldn’t care less. You’ve played it over and over in your head for years, different scenarios always being formulated, but nothing you could have ever dreamt of could compare to this moment. 

“I’ve loved you since year seven,” you tell him, every word of it true. “I can’t believe it took us both this long. Could have avoided the whole Cato fiasco of year twelve, I suppose, if we had just . . . had the gall to tell each other back then, I guess,” you say, the last sentence mumbled.

“Yeah.” Peeta laughs, a genuine deep laugh that reaches his eyes. It rouses the butterflies that have been in the pit of your stomach, the fluttering making you nervous as you watch him scratch the base of his neck almost embarrassedly. 

“So,” you say, dragging the ‘o’ sound. “Pretty sure this is the part where most people would kiss.” 

“Do you want to kiss me?” 

“No, not you, Peeta. I was talking to the duck behind you,” You frown, unable to contain the scoff that passes your lips. “Yes.. yes, I want to kiss you,” you breathe, your pulse hammering.

You step forward, your hands reaching up, gliding against his cheeks, his hands resting on your waist. In a moment of bravery, you place your lips against his. They’re soft, and he tastes like cedar and bread, and it’s like coming home, being in his arms as his lips move against yours, the breeze chilling your skin but his warming you. 

There are no words spoken between the two of you as you both pull away. His eyes are still closed, his long eyelashes resting against the tops of his cheeks; the corners of his mouth are pulled up slightly. 

God, he’s beautiful. So beautiful. That word is usually reserved for sceneries, sunsets or pretty dresses, but in this moment, you can’t tear your eyes away from him. 

“Finally!” someone shouts, causing the both of you to jump back from each other, acting like two first years getting caught passing notes in class. You look around before your eyes land on Johanna Mason, leaning against the statue of the university founder Alma Coin that’s off to the left of the entrance of the study center. Finnick is with her, his signature smirk gracing his elegant features once more. “We were wondering when you two would have the balls to tell each other how you felt.” 

“It seems everyone knew but you two,” Finnick adds with a deep chuckle. 

“Alright, Finny, I think we should leave the two lovebirds alone.” Johanna says, turning away. “Be safe, you two!” 

“If you need anything,” Finnick winks at Peeta. “You know where to reach me.”  

You laugh softly, leaning your head against Peeta’s chest. His arms wrap around you, encasing you in him. His cheeks rests on the top of your head, his breaths evening out as you listen to his steady heart beat. 

This is it. This is home. 

[albino-whumpee]

The boss´ herding dog

You can thank insomnia for this one. Also, my need to show an aspect of Albus I´m DYING to explore on the arc after For you. This is a few weeks after the whole photos fiasco. Sann has barely started to learn sign language so he will sound a bit cut(?).

Taglist: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @giggly-evil-puppy @cowboysrappin @haro-whumps @burtlederp @neuro-whump @comfortforthepain @whumps-the-word @whole-and-apart-and-between @broken-horn @ashintheairlikesnow @rosesareviolentlyread  @starnight-whump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @as-a-matter-of-whump  @whumpasaurus101 @grizzlie70 @twistedcaretaker

CW// Slavery, dehumanization, suggestive language to taunt, manhandling, blood, angry caretaker, workplace bullying, conditioning, pet whump, mentioned ableism and negative views on stimming, mentioned past noncon and fucky victim self blaming (it was necessary kind of fucky)

It was odd for him to show the collar around. People stared, people whispered. Albus would hear them talk about him on his back all the time now. But he would keep working. As it was what his owner bought him for. He knew that. He knew it and yet…

“Do you really have to go, Tony?” He asked the man putting his things inside a cardboard box. As he scratched his wrist over the leather band Sasha gave him to cover the number. He frowned at the clean desk, the walls that had been decorated with flyers ideas and visual references, the drawer with his snacks too were gone. All fitted inside the trash bag the lady had put into her cart a few moments ago.

It was a quick clean up so the box was almost empty. His analogue clock, his sketchbooks, his computer, tablet, photos of Sasha and him, of his family and even one that included him looking awkward as Sasha hugged him and Tony took the photo with his phone.

It was funny how much of a life could fit inside a box.

The man shrugged, pulling the box over the empty desk. “I hit the boss’ son. I have to, buddy” Albus lowered his head. If he hadn’t…he shook his head. There wouldn’t have been a party in the first place if he hadn’t. He had been good, but sometimes, it wasn’t enough to be more than that. Tony’s wide hand squeezed his shoulder “It’s not your fault, Al. I promise I hit that bastard because he deserved it. But is annoying because I didn’t have a brick to build him a prettier face” he joked making the albino smile. The other smiled too, opening his arms “Hey, Al can I hug you? I’m gonna miss you man”

The albino didn’t need to be asked, not from him. But it felt good to know he had an option. “Im gonna miss you too” Albus pulled his arms around his waist and squeezed. Sinking on his chest. After a moment they pulled apart and Tony dig through his things to take out the bags of snacks to put them on his arms. “Sasha will keep them on her office now”

“You know she’s never there”

Tony grimaced “But she lets her office open. You can take them and come to have lunch with us” Albus mouth opened to say Zarai wouldn’t- hadn’t allowed him to do that. Even if he went grocery shopping with his ID… “I talked with her. With miss Montenegro. She said it’s alright if you came with us. Just to notify her before you go” Tony smiled. He had his jaw on the floor. Always helping him like that… he couldn’t help but go for another hug.

“Thank you” the albino muttered as the man ruffled his hair.

“And how’s Sann? Everything going ok?” Albus scratched his neck as Tony sat on the chair. They still had time before the new guy came. Tony crossed his arms “He’s having a hard time isn’t it?”

“He’s adapting…slowly…”

They had been eating on the floor with Sann for a while now. Until they could get him to sit at the table. “It was a full conversation to tell him to not be naked in the house...and that he could sleep in my bed alone without...earning it...” that made a vein pop out Tony’s forehead.

“That pervert bastard” he said through gritted teeth.

“Yeah… At least he’s doing very well with Sasha’s lessons. Told me about this new book he´s reading in signs!” the albino smiled remembering how happy he had looked to see them come back the first few days. The book pile over his nightstand growing and growing as the days went by. For some reason calculus text books from Zarai’s days at college and an old encyclopedia had caught his attention.

It had become normal for him to work on the laptop on the studio’s sofa and have Sann sitting next to him on the floor reading. Sometimes, he mindlessly hanged his arm only to find Sann leaning on to it. He had tried not to touch him, to pull away, but he had caught his hand and pulled it to his head. Sloppily signed it felt good when he did that.

“And how are you feeling?” Tony suddenly asked taking him by surprise. His face was knit with a bit of worry.

Albus forced a smile “I’ll be fine” he replied. The other hummed.

“Don’t forget Jeremy is also there and half the trainees adore you. If you need help” Albus nodded bitterly. Lee had stopped talking to them entirely. Wouldn’t listen to her tasks unless another person told her. A few people had become like that towards him now.

Because he was a box boy and would always act keeping his owner´s pleasure in mind like a loyal dog, he had heard them say. And they were right. He had been trained to have his owner’s safety as his maximum priority. If Zarai was in danger, he wouldn’t doubt a second to switch places.

Albus had to say goodbye to Tony that day to welcome days of dealing with the aftermath of what Robert had provoked.

Dealing with people letting things slip carelessly just to see him try to catch it, bossing him around, laughing when he did all the tasks, when it was “just a joke”. Having almost a heart attack upon finding a dog plate full with dog food over his desk with a note that said “for the boss’ puppy” he had to throw away and clean before Zarai saw it. Going to more public zones was tricky now. He was fine with the rumors. But hearing two trainees talk about their lack of promotions and suddenly seeing him enter the room to use the copying machine went really uncomfortable when he overheard one sigh.

“At least I don’t get deals by making my pet sleep with them” Albus hand crunched the pages on his hand and slammed them on the machine before he turned to them. Recognizing the dirty blonde who had talked as Galván. A guy who had graduated from a top college because his parents could afford it with pocket money and worked there because his uncle made a few calls.

“Ma’am´s position was earnt through her own hard work and years of experience. I would be very happy to remind you, you will need either her or my signature to have your degree after four years of dropping college, so you can find any other job than just an internship someone gave you” the guys snorted.

“What? Puppy boy can actually bark?” The other guy went, a black haired guy with a wiry body type and at least two heads taller than him. He vaguely reminded him of handler Harry. His primary handler. The one who supervised his whole training, and the one to make him stop circling his thumbs, wiggle his leg or tap when he was nervous. Until eventually it came back and Zarai said nothing. They started rounding him “Look at you, acting like you own the place” one of them reached to his neck and Albus stayed still as he uncovered the collar. Digging his nails into his hand “but you’re just the herd dog. Looking after your Master’s sheeps”

“By that logic, I guess the sheep should know they’re below the dog’s watch” the guy felt a chill seeing Albus’s crimson eyes gleam darkly. A grin crept to his face as he firmly put the guy´s hand away. “You were so slow at the beginning and asked me for help for something that took me two days to learn. It was me who helped you not get fired in your first week, wasn’t it? The dog with no degree” the guy scrunched his nose. Albus felt strange as something coiled inside his stomach and a white stinging pain formed behind his eyes “You better not stray from the herd and stay where I can see you”

“Shut up” the guy said pathetically, amusing Albus.

“Shut up what? Remember your manners” and Albus was bitterly reminded of training. Of the white rooms and the men who smiled when they shoved him to his knees. Who lifted his chin up and mouthed his instructions. The same he was saying now, echoing through his memories “You will refer to your superiors with respect. And when they ask you to do something, whatever it may be, your only reply will be “yes, sir” understood?”

The other guy laughed at his friend. Picked his ribs before turning to Albus again.

“Well, aren’t you sharp? My uncle’s boxie is a dumb domestic who can’t even clean a spot right. Just mindlessly begs to be forgiven all the time” there was something on his smirk that made Albus’ skin crawl “he became a lot more fun when they taught him how he could be useful as a romantic” the boy´s eyes sparked with malice “Heard all the ordeal with the CEO’s pet and you, sir” Albus froze “But I need to know from you, sir. Do you herd him too?” He took a step closer to Albus in that same suffocating air as the handlers. Albus tried to control his breathing. It would be fine. Their conversation had gathered a few faces, as well. Quietly amusing themselves with the show “Do you make the Romantic say “yes, ma’am” to her when she’s using him? Or do you make him say that to you only? I heard you were a romantic too, so maybe, you’re just teaching him how she likes it so he can join in? Or maybe, he’s worse than that? He’s your pet sir?”

—

The sound of her heels made faces on the crowd watch on her direction. Many of them running away as soon as they spotted her. Giving her freeway to the middle of all the commotion.

“Take it back!” She heard Albus scream eraged, so atypical from him. It was a surprise to see Albus being held back by a trainee as another stood before him with his knuckles peeled red and covering his bloody nose. Two guys restraining him harder as they saw her. Albus spit a bit of blood as he shouted “You know nothing about him! Take it back!” He jerked against the guy restraining him.

“Mister Serra stop!” the blonde trainee said putting his all into not letting go even as he squirmed so violently. Kicks in the air just to get an inch closer.

“NO! He has no right to say that about him! He doesn’t know shit about us! None of you do!” He screamed at the top of his lungs “Let- ngh, Let me go Jeremy!” He said through gritted teeth. “I need to knock some sense up that stupid head of-“

“Hear this out, the dog wanting to explain to me about a cocksleeve!” He cut him, just making Albus fight harder.

“Enough!” She hollered coming to his line of sight. Freezing them completely. Some people had taken out their cameras and she snatched one phone out of their hands. “What is this? A high school quarrel? You’re adults in the working force, gentlemen” she let it sink, seeing how Albus went stiff and trembled since the moment he spotted her. Zarai turned her head to the trainee with the bloody nose “We wont send some little piece of paper for your parents to sign, you go straight out” Albus eyebrows knit in horror stopping to struggle.

“No, please wait, ma’am” he whispered shakily as Jeremy balanced letting him go.

“I dont even need to know who started. you’re fired. Get your stuff out now” she said pointing to the widened eyed trainee as Albus suddenly collapsed on the floor. “All of you better erase those videos right now unless you are sure you can face the consequences.” She growled loud enough for the crowd to let a thick quiet settle. She knelt in front of Albus and he flinched wildly when she approached her fingers to his neck.

“Pl-Please, please no. Im, I, Im sorry, please! he, he said-“ he covered the collar with his hands. Trying to keep her from taking it away.

“I dont care what he said” she terminated before she took a napkin Jeremy handed her “Im not gonna take it away, are you ok? You took quite the hit there” he nodded slowly, somewhat relieved but not taking away his hand from his neck just yet. Albus kept looking at the ground as she wiped away some of the blood off his mouth. He saw her stand and talk again to the half dispersed crowd. “Most of you don’t know me very well yet. But have clear that I do not take lightly when my property is damaged and much less when the most capable member of my team has to endure your childish behavior” Albus head sank slowly as she kept talking. Nodding when Jeremy asked if he was alright and helped him up “I thought better of you. But you have proven to me not worthy of that right. I’ve had enough of this situation” she eyed every single frowned face, every guilty and compliant. “If I hear, or see, something like this happens again, or I find any of you trying to start a fight or bullying others, I will have them personally seen outside the building after signing their resignation letter and put you on the blacklist of candidates myself. Are we clear?”

“But what about-“

“Are we clear, Miss Lee?” Zarai directed to the black haired girl among the crowd. She stared at the ground while she nodded “Whoever refuses to accept this can come to my office to explain and sign their resignation. Thats all. Disperse”

She watched them walk away, before she turned to Albus “Follow me”

The albino´s heart leapt before he walked after her with his head down. His heart drummed at each step and seemed to halt to a stop when she opened the door for him. Albus stared into her eyes, but as many other times, she was unreadable when she cocked her head.

Clenching his jaw, he stepped inside and heard the door close behind him.

He had fucked up.

He had completely broken her trust in him and he would finally be punished.

What was he thinking? Mistakes weren´t allowed.

Zarai walked past him to a small cabinet behind her desk, but Albus had his eyes locked in the ground. Not wanting to see what exactly she would use to punish him until she was on it.

“On the desk” she ordered still rumminating through a metallic box. The boy breathed in deep before walking to her desk with shaky legs. The uncertainty of what would come just made his heart race faster. He sat on it obediently anyways.

“M-Ma´am, I´m so sorry…” he started, fear taking the worst out of him, his hands got damped in sweat.

“I know you are” she replied calmly before pulling his chin up with soft fingers “Lift your head, hun” Without meaning to, he flinched wildly at the sight of blurry fingers over him. Zarai fished his jaw and pressed slightly on each side, to turn his head up “Hey, hey, don´t move. I know it hurts but I need you to stay still so I can put it on”  Zarai then poked his cheek with something cold, making him blink at the refreshing sensation on his skin. “Doesn´t hurt, right?”

He blinked confused at her, “L-Lidocain?” he said in the smallest voice she had ever heard.

“Uh-huh” she kept rubbing the gel over his bruising cheek. Completely frozen over the desk as she cleaned his busted lip. After a moment she closed the lid of the gel and put it back on the metallic box. He now recognized it as a first aid kit. After she put a bandaid she looked down to throw the package in the trash “You can come down now. How´s it?”

It took the boy a moment to reply, slipping off the wood desk with ease “Better…Thank you, Ma´am”

She hummed as she put the box away, sitting on her chair as the boy stood in front of her desk utterly transfixed in her calmness.

Albus kept eyeing her furtively. Worry visible as he kept rounding his thumbs. She took notice of it quickly and stopped herself from checking her computer to sigh. “Tell me”

“Im sorry for the trouble ma’am”

The woman lifted her eyes.

“No, Im sorry. I should have done this sooner, dont worry about it” she turned on her chair to face him. Lips parting and biting it for a second “You have been working for me for six months, Albus. You know better than this” the way he sank on his shoulders confirmed “I dont wanna know what they said because your reaction was probably justified. I trust you in that. But you can’t do this again, yes?”

“Yes, ma’am” he kept quiet for a minute before he dared speak up again “Ma’am?” he tried “Why wont you punish me?” She lifted an eyebrow.

“Would you want me to?”

“N-No… I mean- no, but-” the boy stammered, squeezing his hands tight as he lowered his head submissively “…But I won´t complain if you think I deserve it”

“That´s not going to happen. You did nothing that required punishment, Albus” she sighed.

“But I started…I punched him first” he admitted.

“Well…that’s certainly surprising” she found herself wondering how he had reached his face with his small height “But no. You won’t be punished for it. The guy was also getting on my nerves with that sly mouth. So maybe I should thank you”

The albino sneaked a little smile “Then…then will you keep me? Will I be able to keep working?” Zarai sighed and nodded. The albino looked shaken, capable of keeping his composure, as he went back to work later. She knew by just watching him automatically doing his chores and cleaning up when it was time to go with a blank face.

The elevator was quiet and the ride home even more. Zarai wasn’t exactly a feeler. But she knew the way his eyes were fixed on the floor as he waited for her to enter the house was empty. She gave him a headpat then. No words as she didnt even know what to say to him that would cheer him up. But still, he leaned on to it.

“Thank you, ma’am” he said when she took away her hand to open the door.

“Everything will be ok yeah?” she smiled at him before they entered the house. The boy trailing after her feeling a small blush on his cheeks. He could hear Cloude’s loud voice and smelled something very sweet. French toasts?

Sann came trotting to meet them. Wearing one of Cloude’s shirts that were too big for him and basketball shorts. He bowed to Zarai who gave him a headpat too and a smile before walking to the kitchen to greet Cloude.

“French toasts arent breakfast?” She teased.

“Time is a social construction. Its 10 am somewhere” Cloude thought french toasts were for breakfast too, but Sann had never tried them and frankly possibly neither Albus. Prepared them? Yeah for training surely. Eat them? Not so sure “Just a lil something after a hard day” he said to her before she gave him a kiss on the cheek.

The freckled boy smiled wide before he spotted the bruise on his cheek.

“What happened?” He signed worry flooding his face as Albus shifted uncomfortably. Taking off his leather band as he remembered what the other guy had said. Anger threatening to come back. Sann noticed his knuckles were bruised too. “Hurts?”

“Nothing important” Albus shrugged. Looking away “Dont worry, it was just a scratch. but it looks ugly because…albinos bruise easily…” he said every word slower than the last, as his bitterness leaked through his words. Waiting for him to nod, to sign yes, for anything but him softly soothing his swollen knuckles.

“Easy or not, bruises still hurt” he signed as an affirmation, eyes losing focus to wonder back on memories. Sann looked up again before stroking his healthy cheek. “Wont ask how. Instead, Want some ice?” Sann smiled after signing. Just before noticing a tear rolled down Albus’s cheek. Then he frantically started to round his chest as an apology.

The albino shook his head not able to shake the smile off his face for the rest of the night. It was even more difficult as Sann finally sat on the border of the chair. Next to him. To eat french toasts for the first time and had Cloude laughing at their reaction. Even more as, deep into the night, he stroke Sann’s hair while sitting next to him reading the space part of the encyclopedia. Sometimes asking what a word meant and pouting when he didnt know. Taking out the dictionary and reading the meaning together.

The futon on his back didn’t feel so hard suddenly. Even if he managed to keep himself awake way after Sann left to sleep, he covered his eyes. After a moment, he passed his fingers around the leather collar on his neck. Loosened up to sleep like always. Still there. The physical permission to keep having all that. A cozy place to sleep, a job, friends as well as the insults and degradation.

What deemed him her property.

He had her words stuck in his mind all day. His Ma´am had made something clear that day but it didn´t make him feel better at all. It was just…so exhaustingly confusing. He didn´t understand how to be good for her, how to keep the punishments away. By some lucky strike he had managed to get this far without fucking up, but this was an strike and he knew better by now to think she would wait for a third to act.

Albus let out his breath as he covered his eyes with his hand. Feeling the warmth of his swollen fingers, he opened his eyest to stare at the knuckles with bandaids Sann insisted in putting after some ice and smiled before rolling over to face the door, covering his head with his arm like an instinct the handlers didn’t put in him, and closed his eyes to sleep.

For a moment, Albus swore to himself he would figure out his owner as he went by, even more carefully now. It would be ok. As long as he had that one person by his side, it would be enough.

[figula]

this week -

1. ive been doing a LOT better - that’s one of the good things about my madness - i go down very quickly but also rebound pretty fast. i think the one thing that bothers me is the memory of when things were bad for like a good year, and there was no rebounding, just a slow crawl out of the worst of it. HOWEVER - I haven’t been like long-term non-functional in literally like 10y and i think it’s probably a mistake to worry so much about the possibility of the next breadown being The Next Big One bc i think my life is so different now to when it was back then that it’s unlikely to become quite so bad anyway

2. not having a wall is really bothering me tho. one of my long-term obsessive thoughts is about the cat’s safety - i get very obsessive about the idea that she might somehow get trapped outside, which even when we had a garden wall to separate her from the road was a problem, so now w/o the wall it’s 10x worse lol. no idea when it’ll be fixed and she’ll be able to go outside again - the builder has to do another project first so we’re in limbo until then. i get very fixated on the idea that ben or ana will accidentally let her out and not notice and she’ll be cold / attacked by another cat / attacked by a fox :((( which is another facet of my obsessions tbh like this lack of ability to trust anyone apart from myself, like i have this really overinflated idea of my own responsibility / ability to keep the house safe (hence going around at night and unplugging everything, checking the front door, staring at my hair straighteners for about 10m, the usual) and like i wish i could just fucking stop bc i know ana and ben also love the cat and also like have brains?? and like keeping a cat inside is not rocket science! (+ hopefully even if she did get outside it would not end up in her death lol)

3. ben (kindly) told me that he finds it disheartening that it becomes an Issue every time we have to go and see his family, and that whilst he understands it’s not personal, it still feels bad. which is fair... i apologised about it bc i mean he is right + also he comes and sees my family w/ literally no complaint at all so yeah :/ having said this im a bit fuckin nervous about it now for imo legitimate reasons (i have accepted we’re going + that my problems dont constitute a reason to complain about seeing his family and am planning on being much less whiny about this in future) about this new fucking variant and like 10 mask-free people in one room hanging out, at least half of whom are in public-facing jobs. this is the first time since-covid so many of us would have been in a room - we’ve seen barely anyone since it all kicked off. the timing is bad. i know ben agrees w/ me about the concern bc he’s not an idiot, and he asked them on the GC last night if they can all test beforehand, but only one person responded so far and im a bit like :/ i feel uncomfortable about it bc i feel that after my complaints it definitely seems as tho im just trying to find reasons to not go. if they all test up beforehand im happy to go, but im a bit worried that a lot of them have not confirmed that they will, and idk, ill ask him what he thinks about that. bc his brother works in a shop, his mum works as a teacher, this new variant is supposed to be better at getting past vaccines? so im a bit like oooof this ... not great ... i feel like it’s reasonable to only go to a medium scale get-together if everyone tests neg beforehand? what do you guys think? but i dunno i guess at some point you also have to just do stuff... like you can’t entirely live under the shadow of stuff that might happen, including covid, and this is coming from someone who’s been INCREDIBLY careful the entire time

4. i have struggled w/ getting back to my wig work - im gonna start working properly again today bc im actually so behind. my site job also MAY be coming to an end in april - we will all have to reapply for the payment, and i don’t know, they may well feel it’s fairer to give someone a shot who hasn’t been paid for an entire year by that point. which i DO think is fair, and i would understand it, but i would have to take a MASSIVE step back from the site, and it feels kinda grim if they essentially fire their One Woman, given that ive done everything asked of me and am always well-ranked in the monthly numbers. i will probably make this clear in the reapplication - that i will not be around if there is no money. not bc i don’t care but bc i do not have the time. couple of things are working in my favour tho in that ive already proven myself to be a good member of the team + also that im one of the most highly-ranked people there in terms of permissions, so i can do everything rather than some more lowly-ranked people who can only do a few things. also you know. i feel like they would be aware of how bad it would look to let their one woman go honestly? bc they handwring a lot about the woman situation, so im curious how this will play out, bc to me it seems blindingly obvious that a lack of access to resources is one of the main reasons why more women dont hang out there. so im curious if they are gonna actually apply that logic and keep paying me.

[itsgryffindor-fanfics]

Being taken Care Of (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Warnings: um fluff this is pre- COVID

I woke up feeling dizzy and a little queasy. I crawled out of bed and got dressed before slowly walking myself to the kitchen trying to keep my world from spying.

“Y/N you okay?” Sam asked once I made it to the kitchen doorway

Bucky Steve and Tony were gone on a mission and wouldn’t be back til later in the day.

“Yeah Sam jus a little dizzy is all.” I told him stumbling to a chair

“I’ll make you some toast and a glass of water. Then I’m taking you to medbay.” Sam decided

“No! I’m fine just a little vertigo.” I said coughing when I smelled his eggs

“Just a little vertigo? Not sick to your stomach?” He questioned “Robocop’ll have my ass if your sick and I knew about and didn’t do anything about.”

“Okay fine!” I sighed and laid my head on the cool table

I closed my eyes for a second and heard the sink turn on

“Hey Sam Y/N” Natatsha’s voice made me open my eyes and slowly sit up

“Morning.” I mumbled

“Woah no.” Nat narrowed her eyes at me as the water in the sink shut off

“Water for the lady.” Sam sat a glass in front of me.

Nat stepped forward and felt my forward. “Someone’s got a fever.”

“No.” I groaned

“Yes.” Nat nodded

“Great Nat Take her on down to the medbay to see Banner would ya?” Sam asked

“Sure. Come on you.” Nat helped me up

“But I don’t wanna move.” I whined

“I know. I know.” Nat said

I pouted and shuffled my feet all the way to the elevator.

I leaned back against the wall and closed my eyes.

“Closing you eyes will make you dizzy.” Nat said

“I’m already dizzy Nat.”

Once we got to the medbay I sat down on a bed and Nat went to find Bruce. My phone buzzed in my pocket.

Bucky: morning doll on our way home see you in about an hour.

I quickly typed out I miss you and hit send and laid my phone down.

Bruce and Nat came into the room.

“Okay Y/N Natatsha says you have a fever and you’re dizzy.”

“And I feel like I’m going to puke.” I added

“Have you had the flu shot this year?” He asked

“No”

“Im gonna run the test to see if you’ve got the flu.” Bruce sighed

“If you have to.” I bit back a whine

“I’m sorry.” Bruce smiled sympatheticly

Bruce disappeared from the room

“Did you tell Barnes you’re sick?” Nat asked

“Not yet. I’m waiting to see what it is. He’ll ask.” I sighed

Nat nodded as Bruce came back with the test kit.

“You know how this goes don’t you?” He sighed

“Yeah.”

Bruce stuck the q-tip thing up my nose and put in the a baggie before.

“We’ll know In just a few minutes. I’ll be back.” He said

He disappeared again

My phone buzzed Bucky was calling. Great

I answered knowing if I didn’t Steve would call Sam.

“Hey Doll.” His voice tired

“Hey Buck.” I let myself smile

“Somethin’ wrong?” He asked

I must really be sick “I’m kinda sick.” I sighed not wanting to tell him until he was home dating the worlds most protective man was great until he was on a mission.

“How sick? Like your hurts? You’re gonna throw up? Like what kind of sick?” He demanded

“I’m dizzy I have a fever and feel like I’m gonna puke.” I told him

“Have you seen Banner about this yet?” He asked

“I’m in the middle of doing just that. He’s checking me for the flu.” I said

“Aw baby.” Bucky’s voice went soft “shut the hell up stark she’s sick! Sorry ‘bout that doll Tony’s just being himself.”

“How far away are you?” I asked

“About half an hour give or take. But listen I want you to go on back to bed. Rest. I’ll bring you something to try to eat when I come in.” Bucky told me

“Okay Buck. Let me get off the phone and find out if I have the flu.”

“Okay. See ya soon”

“Okay.” I hung up and sat my phone down

Bruce came back “you’re negative for the flu Y/N It must just be a stomach bug. You need to rest. And hydrate.”

“Nat can you help me back to my room?” I asked

“Sure.” Nat smiled

Once we made it to my room and thanked Nat and went to changed back into my pjs. I crawled back into bed after set my phone on the nightstand. I closed my eyes and drifted off.

I woke up to the sound of the door closing and the smell of food which made me cough.

“Hey you.” Bucky chuckled as I felt the bed dip under his weight. He was still in his Tatical gear from the mission.

I rolled over to face him. The smell of the food and the vertigo be dammed I missed my Bucky.

His baby blues were full of worry.

“Hey Bucky” I tried to smile

“Have you eaten?” He asked

“No.” I sighed “just the smell of food makes me sick.”

“Hm. How about you try to hold down some toast? If you can’t then I’ll have Steve run and get some of the popsicles you like so much.” Bucky offered.

“I’ll try.” I shrugged and sat up

“Here.” Bucky handed me a plate with two slices of toast “Eat as much as you can.”

I nodded and took a bite. I ate about half a piece of toast before I couldn’t eat anymore.

I gave Bucky the plate and he sat it on the nightstand.

I leaned on Bucky’s arm. “How was the mission?”

“It went well. I’m just happy to be home.” He told me wrapping his arm around me.

“Bucky, My tummy don’t feel good.” I whined

“I know Baby.” He rubbed my back “Do you wanna try taking a bath?”

“Nuh uh. Don’t wanna move.” I told him.

“Okay Doll. You don’t have to move.” Bucky kissed my forehead “still got a fever.”

“Can I take a nap?” I whispered

“After you drink some water for me.” He smiled and grabbed a glass of water from the nightstand

“Fine.” I poured and took the glass. I took a drink and gave it back.

“That’s okay for now. You can lay down my sweet girl.” Bucky told me I curled up under the covers

Bucky stood up “I’m gonna go change I’ll be right back.”

“Mkay.” I closed my eyes and waited on Bucky.

Bucky moved around the room. I heard the dresser drawer open and close. I heard Bucky tatical suit hit the floor with a soft thud a couple minutes before the bed dipped under his wieght again.

His arms slipped around my waist again his bare chest warm against my back. “I’m here now my doll.”

“Yay” I smiled weakly

“Sleep. Then we’ll see how you feel.” He said simply

I sighed contently against my pillow and drifted off.

I woke up with a start and my stomach lurked

“Baby?” Bucky’s sleepy voice came from my left

“Gonna puke” I coughed and got up ran to the bathroom.

“Uh oh.” Bucky said

I hit my knees infront of the toilet and emptied my stomachs contents into it.

Bucky kneeled next to me holding my hair back. I sat up slowly.

“Feeling better?” Bucky asked

”Definitely” I nodded.

Bucky made me lean on him and he rubbed my back.

“I think it’s bath time.” Bucky said to me “but first let me check your fever.”

Bucky kissed my forehead. “Fever gone.”

“Yay.” I smiled

“I’m gonna go grab you one of my t shirts and your underwear.” Bucky started to stand up

“Mkay Stand up” i sighed

Bucky went to the room.

I got up and turned on the water in the bathtub.

Bucky came back in the door way with a red T-shirt and a pair of my white panties. “I’ll wait out here for you.”

“Okay.” I took the clothes and Bucky closed the door.

I put the clothes on edge of the sink and striped . I got in the tub and shut the water off. I washed my hair and body got out.

I dryed off and got dressed and opened the door.

Bucky was laying on the bed on his side reading a book. He looked up at me and smiled. “Bedtime?”

“Yeah.” I nodded and walked towards the bed and crawled into the bed.

Bucky sat the book back on his nightstand and laid on his back. “C’mere.”

He pulled me onto his chest and pulled the blankets up.

“Thank you Buckabear.”

“For what?” He asked tightening his arm around my waist

“Making sure I’m always taken care of.” I smiled Putting my cheek against his chest.

“You’re welcome my love.” He chuckled

Bucky’s metal hand griped my hip softly comforting me.

I closed my eyes letting my hand rest on his hip.

“Night night Buck.”

“G’night Y/N I love you.”

“I Love you too.”

[livingforshawnscurls]

I'm So Sorry (We're Still Stuck in the Middle) | Shawn Mendes | 4

Series Masterlist Masterlist

4.

Four Years Ago Toronto, Canada

Shawn groaned aloud as Brian yelled along to the In My Blood lyrics blasting through the car's speakers. “Dude, can you not?”

“It’s the Grammys, Shawnie. Let him celebrate,” Geoff mumbled, half asleep, from his seat next to Shawn.

“Hey, hey, stop the car!” Shawn yelled from the backseat. “Pull up to the side!”

Ian gave him an irritated look over his shoulder even as he pulled up to a side. “What the hell? What do you—Shawn!”

But Shawn was already out of the SUV and crossing the sidewalk, on his way to the guitar shop he'd spotted through the windshield. It was extremely rare for a shop as this one to be open past midnight, and something in him—probably all the Cosmos he'd inhaled with Brian, back at his place—pushed him to walk into it and look around.

Inhaling deeply, he pushed the glass door open. A girl was seated behind the cash counter, earphones tucked in with her phone in hands. Her head shot up as Shawn walked in, and he had to take a moment to admire her.

She looked beyond adorable with her eyes wide, cheeks flushed and hair pulled up with tiny flyaways framing her face. Her lips dropped open in a silent gasp. Shawn blinked, a corner of his lips tugging up as he waved his fingers at her.

“Just wanna look around,” he told her, jerking a thumb in the direction of the range of all the beautiful electric guitars displayed on the wall opposite the cash counter.

She silently nodded, her wary eyes hovering over him for a few extended moments before dropping back to her phone.

Shawn walked up to the instruments he loved with all his heart, scanning the different pieces.

But found his attention drawn more to the girl.

Why didn't she react to his presence? Was it possible that someone in Toronto didn't know who he was? Or was it that she didn't care? That she didn't like his music?

His buzz was dying out fast with how quickly thoughts were spiralling in and out of his mind, and he had to finally give up trying to look at the guitars in favor of walking up to the girl.

And then he paused.

Since when did he get so obnoxious? Was it really that big of a blow to his ego that a girl didn't know him?

He pursed his lips, mad at himself for letting such a negative emotion drive him, however momentarily. He moved towards an instrument, reaching out with a hand to brush over the smooth surface.

But his brain prompted him to look over his shoulder, and—

He met her eyes. She looked away.

A smile crawled up Shawn's face.

She'd been looking at him.

He kept staring at her as he walked up to the counter. “Hey.”

She looked up, almost jumping at his sudden greeting, and Shawn flashed her a toothy grin. She tucked a flyaway hair behind her ear and visibly swallowed. “Hi?’

He pointed at the wall he'd just been perusing, and raised his eyebrows.

She frowned, looking a bit lost and all the more adorable. "Um, the price? That's the Player range, it's—"

"Shawn, what the heck, man!" Ian suddenly barged into the shop. "Come back!"

Shawn's eyes turned to saucers. He turned to look at the girl, who was frozen in place. He cleared his throat. "Um."

The girl turned her doe like eyes to him. "Uh?"

"Do—do you have a card?" he asked her, panicked and confused.

"Huh?" She was almost scowling now.

"Card—uh, visiting card? With your num—uh, theshop's number on it?" he hurriedly said, speaking over Ian's mumbled curses.

"Brian might decide to drive, Shawn. It'd get ugly."

Shawn held the counter with both his hands. "Well?!"

The girl blinked, and then dove into a flurry of moves, rushing around the space to finally present him with a hurriedly scratched name and number on a piece of—was that gift wrapping paper?

"We're open from seven to nine on weekdays, and ten on weekends," she almost robotically informed him. "And twenty-four hours on special days."

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Today's a special day?"

"It's fucking Christmas, Shawn!" Ian yelled.

The girl waved the piece of paper before him, and he hurriedly snatched it from her, stuffing it into his trousers. "Um…well—uh, at—at the risk of sounding like a cocky asshole, you do know who I am, right?”

The girl pursed her lips into a smile, and turned her phone's screen towards him. A smile slipped up on his face when he saw the cover of his second album displayed on the screen.

“Illuminate,” he read aloud, chuckling when she nodded with a blush. “What’s your favourite?”

The girl pursed her adorable, little lips. “Ruin, I believe."

He breathed out. People didn't usually go for that one.

"Shawn, I swear to God—"

"Oh for fuck's sake, let's go."

Shawn's eyes didn't quite wish to leave this beautiful face. But Ian, the asshole was dragging him back into the sordid can with his stinky, drunkard friends.

Crashing into his seat, Shawn dragged out the piece of paper as Ian started the car again.

Her name was beautiful.

With sparkles in his eyes, he pulled his phone out.

You hadn't moved from your position, at all.

As he was leaving, Shawn had brushed his hand against yours in farewell. You were still staring at said hand, trying to gauge how creepy of you it would be to smell it.

"Oh, fuck," you breathed out, shutting your eyes.

Did this even happen, or had your sleep deprived brain just conjured this up because you'd been listening to Ruin on repeat?

On cue, you hit pause on the song that was still playing. You unplugged your earphones from the phone, and were about to put the device to charge, planning to go out to smoke a cigarette, when it pinged with a message.

Before you could so much as unlock the phone, it pinged twice in succession.

Three texts from an unknown number. Your heart started to race.

will u go on a date with me? hehe im super bad at this its shawn btw

Oh my fucking God…

lmao, i returned from the dead, and randomly decided to continue this. stay with me, y'all!

Like & Reblog!

[harrysgoldenline]

do you think you could write something about harry being protective ?

My Hero

“Stay close to me.” Harry mumbles in her ear, his hand right around her as they follow close behind the security guard.

She leaned into his shoulder as he lead in front of her, trying to shield her eyes from the bright flashing lights that she has never gotten used to. When they reached the car, the paparazzi crowded around them, their questions being yelled louder and louder.

Harry stopped and took her hand, dragging her in front of him by her hand and letting her in the car first as he offers a polite wave and nod to the paps before he slides in after her, shutting the door quickly and signaling the driver to head off to the after party.

The lovers sat in the back of the car quietly, engaging in soft conversations and giggles as Harry tries to calm her, telling her not worry about the party and what none there may think of her.

“Mr. Styles, Miss. Y/LN, we have arrived.” The driver announces.

“Thank you!” The pair both exclaim, getting out of the car before thanking him again and wishing him a good night.

Harry reaches his hand out to her, once agin leading her into this building, appreciating the much fewer number of paps on their walk this time and soon enough they were inside, dropping their coats off at coat check before walking into the extravegent event.

“Wow” Harry admires, extended his arm out and spinning her, “you look absolutely flawless, my love.”

“Stop it.” Y/N blushes, leaning into him and kissing his jaw, her hands rubbing down his suit jacket, “you look so handsome, I love this suit.”

“Yeah?” He smirked arrogantly, entering the large ballroom filled with all kinds of A-List celebrities, “I’m gonna have to keep you close, not gonna let anybody steal you away.”

Y/N laughs, rolling her eyes, wondering how he could actually think that could be possible and the two head to get drinks. Harrys arm tight around her waist as they push through the crowd of people, soon ordering their drinks.

***

“Dance with me!” Y/N slurred, trying to pull Harry up from the barstool after a mutual friend walked away to go to the bathroom, her hands tugging on the material of his shirt, “please please please please!”

“Babe, whats gonna happen when he comes back and we’re gone?” He chuckles, spreading his legs a bit wider and pulling her to stand between them.

“I reeaalllyy wanna dance.” She pouted, arms resting on his shoulders and she bites her lip, looking up at him seductively, “please?”

He sighs, a smirk covering his face and he pulls her close, pressing a hard passionate kiss onto her lips. Her fingers instantly weave through his hair as his tug on her waist, the couple getting lost in one another.

She crawls up onto him, squealing a bit as he squeezes her hips, pulling back and nipping at her neck.

“Im going to go to the toilet quick, then we can dance.” He playfully grumbles, lifting her up and placing her feet on the floor and she stumbles a bit, his hands quickly meeting her hips to steady his intoxicated girlfriend.

Harry stands, brushing his shirt a bit and looking around at the still full, wild party and blushes, still noticing in the dark room a few people were eyeing them.

“Can I come with?”

“No, button. Stay here.” He chuckles, ordering her a water from the bartender, “drink this it’s yummy!” He laughs, raising his eyebrows dramatically as he holds it before her, “I’ll be right back.”

Harry departs from her with a quick kiss, making his way to the bathroom and turning around and seeing her sipping on the water as she turns back and forth slightly on the spiny barstool.

Y/N giggles to herself, watching other drunk celebrities stumble and dance around the space, very easily distracted and entertained in her inebriated state.

“Boo!” A voice says in her ear as hands squeeze her arms, Y/N jumping in suprise.

She turns to see one of her and Harry’s mutual friends they met a few months back, Chris. She gives him a smile and a wave before wrapping her lips back around the straw.

“Where’d Harry go?” He asked before looking towards the bartender and ordering shots and eyeing her up and down and smirking, “he give you that water too? Does he not think you can handle her alcohol?”

“Ummmm...” she stumbles, looking around before the thought reenters her mind, “he’s in the uh- Harry went to the... the bathroom! And yeah he did- but I can I can!”

“I must’ve walked right past him then, the line is huge.” He chuckles before sliding her a shot, “Well if you can, take this shot with me doll.”

Her eyes slowly meet the glass before looking up to his face, not quite sure why he added the pet name but with the amount of alcohol she has already ingested she wasn’t exactly in the right mind to react to situations.

“Okay” she hiccuped, lifting the glass and giggling when Chris hit his glass with hers and they both down them quickly.

“I don’t know what Styles is talking about! You’re doing great, gorgeous!” He smirked, plopping down on the barstool next to her and throwing his arm over her shoulder, “lets do a few more and then dance.”

“Oh, um I don’t- I think Garry and I.-“ she giggles, “I mean HARRY and I are going to dance when I come back- when HE comes back from the bathroom.”

“Cmon, lets go.” He dismissed, standing from the stool and helping the drunk girl stand, practically dragging her over to the dance floor.

“Chris, Stop.” She weakly argues, trying to push the larger man away but failing.

Chris continues walking, holding her arm tightly as they walk further and further away from where they were sitting, Y/N’s vision getting blurrier the more they are moving.

The next thing she knows she stumbles to the ground, looking up and seeing Harry standing before her.

Harry grabs Chris by the shirt, teeth gritted and he shoves him against the wall, “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Harry screamed, “answer me! Why were you trying to take her out of the building?”

“I-I’m sorry she asked me to take her to your car!”

“Don’t fucking lie to me.” Harry spits, the commotion causing attention and security comes, before Harry’s fist could meet Chris’s nose.

One guard helps Y/N stand, asking her to explain the situation as well as asking her if she knew either of the two men. The intoxicated girl tried her best, explaining how she came with her boyfriend and then their friend gave her more drinks and dragged her out to the dance floor.

“You gave her drinks?” Harry grunted, trying time lunge at him, “what the fuck did you put in them!?”

The guards hold both of the men back, trying to get the story out of both of them before they take Chris away for separate questioning and Harry sat with Y/N as they had the car pull up to the back door.

“Harry, I wanna go home.” She whimpers weakly, tiredly leaning into him “I don’t feel good.”

“I know, my love. I’m so sorry I didn’t protect you.” He shakily replied, rubbing his fingers through her messy hair.

Soon enough, their car pulled up and thankfully they were able to exit out of a side door and weave around all paps. Harry carefully helped her into the car, having her head lay in his lap on the car ride home, his fingers softly massaging her scalp.

The two sat, and laid, quietly in the back of the car, neither of them knowing what to say and Y/N finding it hard to keep her eyes open as exhaustion washed over her.

Harry carried her into their home once they arrived, helping her slide out of her dress and he put one of his t-shirts on her, grabbing a makeup wipe and helping her remove it before tucking her into bed. He couldn’t help but feel immensely guilty, knowing what happened, even more so what was about to happen.

He felt nauseous, thinking about what would have happened if he wouldn’t have seen them heading to the door. What he would of done, what would have happened to her.

Harry didn’t sleep much, laying awake for hours before inevitably falling asleep from exhaustion, both psychically and emotionally.

The couples didn’t awake until around 1pm, only really getting out of bed to go to the bathroom, get snacks or Advil in between Netflix marathons of different shows and movies.

“I’m sorry.” Y/N suddenly broke, cuddling into his chest, “I’m sorry I made us have to leave the party early because I drank too much and then h-he-“

“Hey, stop tha” Harry cooed, sitting up and pulling her up with him, brushing hair out of her eyes, “you have nothing to apologize for, you didn’t do anything wrong. I should’ve been there to protect you- If I wouldn’t have seen you...”

She cuddles further into him, sniffling and wiping the tears off her cheeks, “I ruined it, I shouldn’t have drank so much... I couldn’t even push him away and then their was this huge scene and everyone was looking.”

“Baby girl, that guy is a prick. You shouldn’t have to limit yourself because there are creeps out there. And what do you mean? Are embarrassed?” He consoles, lifting his face and being met with teary eyes and she nods, wrapping her arms back around him and burying her face in his neck, “you have nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetheart. Okay? Nobody thinks of you negatively.”

She nods slowly, her fingers tangling into his hair, “thank you for saving me... I was so scared, Bubby. I didn’t know what was happening- what... what was gonna happen.”

“I know baby, me too. I was terrified. But I found you, I’ll always be there when you need me.” He explained, softly kissing her lips, “I’m never letting you out of my sight again. I love you so much and I will never stop protecting you.”

“I love you too, Bubs. So much. You’re my hero.”

He smirks, kissing her again and wiping away her tears before letting out a soft laugh, “I guess this means from now on we’re going to the bathroom together.”

[schnees-and-schnugs]

head empty baby schneebling ficlet ??? (just so yall know i had no idea what this was going to be about until i started typing so im gonna be surprised by what i write too). if it seems that winter has chronic ADHD brain in this fic its bc i have chronic ADHD brain and that’s just how i roll.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

  Winter tried to ignore the meowing as long as she could. After all, there was not a single feline creature to be found in the manor, so either she’s dreaming or hallucinating. Or maybe her ears are ringing from her father’s latest tantrum. 

  Being held hostage at the dinner table and forced to listen to his incessant barking voice ought to have caused me permanent brain damage. She smirked under her covers. Now if I can close my eyes and go back to sleep-

  “MEEEEROOOWOOW”

  What the fuck is that?

  Winter knew she ought to get up but she really did not want to. Her thighs ached from horse riding lessons earlier in the day. Her head ached from her business studies her father forced down her throat. Her soul ached from the pain of existence. She was beginning to think she was being punished for some transgression- if being unbelievably charming and sexy deserved- actually, I don’t think I’m going to finish that train of thought. 

  Winter could only tolerate her own sense of humor in small doses, but giver her situation- her entire life up to this point- she didn’t think having an unbecoming jocularity was high up on her list of Current Problems and Tragedies. In fact, it’s quite low given that her father makes up the better part of the first half. 

  She rolled onto her side, one ear muffled by her pillow, and the other under the soft thick layer of her cotton blanket. The noise seemed to have disappeared, and Winter was quite okay with that. She wondered briefly of the possibility of a mountain lion finding its way into the Schnee Estate. She wasn’t even sure if wild animals such as that existed in Solitas, much less bright and pristine Atlas. Winter wasn’t even sure if mountain lions meowed. 

  If a beast made it’s way into the manor, what would I even do? No doubt she would try to locate the animal, gather Weiss and Whitley in her arms and stow them somewhere safe. Maybe even use a piece of meat to lure the lion into father’s bedroom, she mused. Winter tried lull herself back to sleep with the thought of her father begging her for mercy as she unleashes her new pet-

  “MREEEEEEEEEEEWOOOOOOOOOOOOOW”

  Her eyes snapped open. Gods-

  A soft muffled voice followed the feline yell. A familiar voice. A voice exactly suited for one little boy she new very well. 

  Winter narrowed her eyes and listening closely. She could tell it was Whitley from the general childish sound of his tone, but due to her very comfortable position in bed, she couldn’t quite her the specifics. Huffing, she sat up and pricked up her ears.

  “... quiet....please kitty... you’re going to wake up....”

  Winter sputtered. Kitty?

  Did Whitley somehow bring a cat into the manor? She didn’t doubt that given the chance he would- he was overly fond of animals in a way that Winter never understood. Not that she hated animals per se, but the idea of the added responsibility of a pet on top of her already ever-growing responsibilities of being heir to the SDC did not sit well with her. Whitley on the other hand, being the third child, and well, and actual child, didn’t really have much to care about beyond his normal tutoring sessions. Which means that, of course he can have a tiny bird feeders outside his window to feed the little birdies and cry at the sight of a roasted chicken because how could they kill and cook and innocent little animal?

  Winter didn’t understand how a child under 10 years of age could be taken by vegan persuasions- even Father was shocked to silence at that outburst at the dinner table.

  The sound of Whitley’s voice faded out as Winter strained her ears. If he did bring a cat into the manor, she needed to fix that immediately. Father would be furious at not only being woken up in the middle of the night but Whitley breaking the strict rule of no animals whatsoever allowed indoors.

  Father is allergic.

  (What animal he’s allergic to is unknown, but Winter suspects he’s just afraid of them).

  Sliding off the bed, Winter winced at the feeling of cold tile on her bare feet. She simultaneously thought of giving Whitley a good scolding for making her roll off of bed at such an ungodly hour and thanking the Gods that Whitley’s room was right next to hers on the other side of the wall. And the farthest away from Father’s room.

  Sliding her feet into a pair of pale blue fluffy slippers, she cautiously stepped out of her room and into the hallway. The moment the clock strikes 12 the hallway lamps usually shut off on their own, leaving at least this portion of the manor pitch black until the sun rises and lights up through the windows. If Father was working late he would manually change the lights to turn off at a later time- only to suite himself, of course. Everyone else who had the misfortune of living in the manor had to finish up and be back in their rooms by midnight or suffer having to find their room in the dark among the endless doors that lined the hallway. Winter had mastered the art of blindly walking down this hall- but not without multiple mishaps and embarrassments at first, unfortunately. 

  Arms outstretched, Winter felt her way from her doorway to Whitley’s room. She kept close to the wall and tiptoed, feeling for the doorknob before pressing her ear against the room door.

  “Are you hungry little kitty?” There was an affirmative purr and Whitley hummed. “I’m going to have to find you some treats...”

  Winter could practically hear the cogs turning in his little adolescent mind. She knew for sure that Whitley was formulating a plan to break into the food storage for the animals in Mom’s garden- would they even have any cat food in there? He surely is going to be disappointed. 

  Winter sighed. She almost wished she had stayed in bed. She turned the knob and nudged open the door, prompting Whitley to softly gasp. 

  “Winnie!” She heard him quickly shift on his bed. Winter stepped fully into the space before gently closing the door behind her. She turned towards him and assessed the scene before her. Whitley, in his white nightgown, sat in the middle of the bed. He was cradling a suspicious lump wrapped up with his blanket while his round face was contorted by a small frown as he stared back at his oldest sister.

  “Father says that we shouldn’t leave out room after midnight”, the lump shifted and Whitley clutched it tighter.

  “Father also says we aren’t allowed to bring animals into the manor...” Winter crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s that on your lap?”

  “Nothing!”

  “Are you sure?” Whatever annoyance Winter felt melted away at the sight of Whitley pouting. She sauntered playfully to the edge of his bed and wiggled and finger in his face. “Are you lying to me? Your older sister Winnie? You’re lying to me?”

  Whitley broke eye contact. “Well...” The lump mewed and a furry white paw extended from out of the cover of the blanket. Winter raised a brow.

  “That looks suspiciously like a cat.” Winter crawled into his bed and uncovered the little creature. The cat loafed on Whitley’s lap, grooming the pristine white fur on around its pink paw beans. It looked to be a few years old. 

  “Isn’t it pretty?” Whitley caressed the cat’s back, having already moved on from the earlier argument. Winter tried to pat its head but the little critter swiftly dodged her palm and scampered to the edge of the bed and curled up, seemingly to sleep. Rude.

  There’s a more present matter at hand anyways.

  “Where did you find it?” Winter turned her attention back to her little brother.

  “Her”

  “What?”

  “It’s a she, Winnie! Look at her butt!” Winter politely declined the suggestion. She had no interest in inspecting the cat’s backside- she didn’t seem to like Winter anyways.

  “Well, where did you find her?” 

  “I didn’t find her! Mr. Hartley gave her to me”

  “The grounds keeper?”  Winter scoffed. “Why would he give you a cat?”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “Why don’t you don’t believe me?” His eyes started to brim with tears and he grabbed Winters right hand with his own two smaller ones. “Father said we’re not allowed to bring animals in here but I didn’t know what to do! Mr. Hartley said he’s leaving but he can’t take her with him. I said I would keep her. But Father is going to yell at me if he finds out- I’m scared...” 

  Winter’s chest ached at the desperation in Whitley’s voice. This isn’t normal is it? For a child to be so terrified of their parent like this. When she was his age, she felt the same way- so scared and vulnerable. It was the end of the world to get negative attention from Father, and most of the time it seemed to be the only type of attention he gave. It almost seemed par for the course all those years ago. She didn’t know any better- it was just the norm.

  Looking at Whitley, petrified like she was- she could see the abuse from the outside. Almost as if she’s watching her own experiences and she’s chained to a front row seat. Except she didn’t have an older sibling to hold her hand and to share the pain with. To protect her. To defend her. Isn’t that what she always wanted in the worst days of the past? Couldn’t she be that now?

  Whitley couldn’t keep the cat. There was no amount of convincing that could make Father give in- it’s always been about his own ego, more than anything. But that doesn’t mean that Father has to know this cat was ever here in the first place. Atlas has plenty of animal shelters, and having a pet cat was in vogue now. She would convince Whitley to let Klein take the cat to the nearest one in the morning. Father would never know if they were discrete. 

  “Winnie...” Whitley’s bright blue eyes searched her face.

  Winter grabbed him under his arms, and with little struggle, sat him between her stretched out legs. She hugged him around the waist from behind and softly told him her plan. 

  “... do you want to do this with me?”

  Whitley sniffed. “I can’t keep her?”

  “Father won’t allow you to. We can make sure the kitty is safe and taken care of though... Klein will do this for us, I know it. You won’t get yelled at and you can tell her goodbye in the morning. Father will be none the wiser.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that he’ll never know.”

  Whitley was quiet for a few seconds before Winter felt him nod softly beneath her chin. “Can I sleep with her tonight?”

  Winter blinked. She forgot it was currently hours past Whitley’s bedtime. He must be half asleep.

  “Yes. Just make sure to keep her in your room, okay? I’ll leave a message for Klein to see in the morning. Don’t...” She paused. She noticed Whitley breath start to even out as he fell asleep against her.

  I suppose I’m going to be sleeping her tonight also. She needed to make sure that this all goes well. However, Winter couldn’t ignore the uneasiness in the pit of her stomach. Was she just getting Whitley used to this? Hiding secrets out of fear? Was she allowing Father to have his way in Whitley’s eyes? Getting Whitley accustomed to living under Father’s thumb? She was just trying to protect him. But she couldn’t shake the feeling of selfishness, that she was denying Whitley happiness for the sake of peace with their Father.

  Mom always told her to choose her battles carefully. 

  She couldn’t help but feel that if she chose all the wrong ones, she’ll end up hurting Whitley beyond repair.