#Jesus CHRIST what the fuck is going on with you!!!!

[buckadoodledoo]

no listen. listen to meeeeee. buddie in the field blood transfusion is the next natural step for them. other than you know kissing sloppy style and fucking raw. whatever. BLOOD TRANSFUSION. they would get off on this so, so bad. after they're both fine. but also during, when they're Not. eddie is literally suffering from blood loss, forcing himself to stay conscious to talk buck through this transfusion. and despite this. the literal blood loss. he's still like, fuck. buck. this is—i don’t think it's supposed to feel like this. he says this out loud, accidentally. and buck's panicking, like. am i doing it wrong????? eddie????? and eddie's like. no, no it's working. it's just—and he lets out a little sound that could be. probably is. should be. a groan of pain, on account of his injuries. but. uh. Well. it sounds like something else. and he feels a little—well. he can literally feel where buck's blood is entering his veins right now. and it's A Lot. (later he will tell himself he was just delirious. from the blood loss). meanwhile buck is out of his head crazy beside himself, talking a million miles an hour to try and keep eddie conscious. but also he can’t stop staring. at the blood. in the tube. his blood. flowing into eddie. and eddie makes that sound. like a groan. and buck feels his skin heat up and a breathless gasp leave his mouth and it's—probably just the adrenaline, right? he's amped up. because of the adrenaline. yeah. has to be that.... anyway later. when they're fine. and they're having like, an erotically charged moment. on account of eddie almost dying and the whole. blood thing. eddie says, you're in my veins. almost sort of, like he’s admitting something. and buck gets so hard so fast it's insane. says, yeah... and eddie's like, is it— swallows. steps closer. is it crazy that this morning i nearly bit into my own lip to try and. taste you. and buck's like, jesus christ, eddie. and eddie's like, fuck. yeah. that's—crazy. God. uh—sorry. and buck's like, no. no!!! it's not crazy, it's—i want that. too. i—eddie. and eddie's eyes go dark and he just. bites down into his lip. and buck lets out a gasp. a whimper. watches the blood bloom. and now they're like, a breath away. and they're both shaking. and eddie's tongue is running over his lip. over—their blood. and he's like, kiss me. and buck's like, half-delirious with want, what? and eddie's like, kiss me, buck. and buck does. and he's tasting eddie's blood again except it's not just eddie's this time. it's theirs

[ladylolalilly]

Okay, despite the fact that How To Escape The Well is winning by a landslide, somehow almost nobody is going to bat for it in the comments, so I guess I’m doing it.

Anyways, I have in fact read all four stories (which, if you haven’t, please go do that before voting, it is a very good use of your time and you can then vote from an informed perspective). I mostly picked based on which one fucked me up the most (which maybe isn’t the correct way to pick the most fucked-up story but what are you going to do, put me in a well?).

Anyways, Angel was really fucked up but I mostly thought the body horror/transformation was cool as fuck, so the actual fucked-upness was a little bit lost on me. Original Sin is just science facts about the sun reinterpreted as a batshit short story, which is fantastic and very “would that be fucked up or what”, but personally I don’t think it was THAT fucked up compared to the other two. World Builder… okay, I maybe need to reread World Builder. It was really fucked up, but honestly I think I bounced off it a little.

How To Escape The Well, though? That fucked me up. The idea of withering away underground because you can’t bear to take your one shot at escape in case it fails? The idea of a hope that simultaneously sustains you and leaves you trapped because you can’t bear to risk losing it? Jesus fucking Christ.

Anyways, this has been my explanation for why I voted How To Escape The Well over the other three. To cap this off, I am going to say that I am actually very sad HTETW and The Back End of Time went up against each other in the qualifying rounds, because The Back End of Time is also extremely fucked up and I think it sucks it couldn’t make it to finals.

You can check out the options here.

[mclager]

Cowboy | Daniel Ricciardo x reader

Face claim: Bella Hadid

Ynhere

Austin - Texas

Liked by danielricciardo, lando and others

Ynhere The things you do...

View all comments...

Lando I don't care, what's the name of the horses?

→ ynhere Spirit and Max

→ lando MAX? AS IN MAX VERSTAPPEN?

→ lando Ma'am your husband is gay!

→ user14 HUSBAND? DOES YN HAS A HUSBAND?

→ ynhere I DON'T HAVE A HUSBAND

→ ynhere Jesus Christ @/lando can't you shut up?

User83 Yn is dating DANIEL?

→ ynhere no

User99 The things you do for love?

Danielricciardo

🎵 Luke Combs • Ain't No Love In Oklahoma

Liked by ynhere, maxverstappen1 and others

Danielricciardo Living the ranch life

View all comments...

User7 Ain't No Love In Oklahoma, says the man posting his girlfriend

→ user9 Girlfriend? Isn't he single?

→ user7 I mean, he say he is, but there's SO many hints that say that he's dating @/ynhere

User21 So there's where Yn is!

→ user6 downtown girl Yn is in a ranch?

→ user21 She is

Ynhere Posting Spirit so you don't sound too gay for naming the other horse Max?

→ Lando yes

→ danielricciardo No comments

Daniel3.jpg

Liked by danielricciardo, ynhere, Lando and others

Daniel3.jpg Texans by association

View all comments...

User4 My guys if this isn't a "we're dating" post I don't know what is

Lando You two are so fucking annoying

Lando Stop being cute motherfuckers

Lando I'M SINGLE

→ Ynhere @/Lando are you ok?

→ Lando NO

Maxverstappen1 Are you two dating yet?

→ danielricciardo No

→ maxverstappen1 @/Lando would be quicker

→ Lando @/Ynhere wanna chill?

→ daniel3.jpg @/Ynhere if you say yes I'll kill myself

→ Ynhere Fight

Ynhere

🎵 Luke Combs • Fast car

Liked by danielricciardo, Lando and others

Ynhere And your arm felt nice wrapped around my shoulder. And I, I had a feeling that I belonged...

View all comments

Lando Fast car was a great choice of music I'll admit

Maxverstappen1 Now are you two dating?

→ Ynhere yes

→ Lando FINALLY

→ danielricciardo my guys don't rush perfection!

User77 Max and Lando on Danny's comments are the best thing it ever happened

User10 Danny and Yn living in a ranch is like a FanFiction I wish I was on

Danielricciardo So, I remember when we were driving, driving in your car. Speed so fast, I felt like I was drunk ❤️

User17 Please tell me you two are in this ranch listening to Luke Combs discography on repeat!

→ Ynhere we actually have a playlist with 42 hours of country music playing on the house speakers the entire day

→ user17 couple goals

Daniel3.jpg

Liked by Lando, maxverstappen1, Ynhere and others

Daniel3.jpg She said she wouldn't live more than half an hour away from a mall, now here we are, in a ranch with two horses, a awfully long country playlist and a dream, I love you ❤️

View all comments...

Ynhere The only man I could give up my big city for, I love you, cowboy! 💕

Maxverstappen1 At summer break me and @/Lando will be going there, I need to meet Max.

→ Ynhere nobody invited you?

→ Lando @/danielricciardo YOUR GIRLFRIEND IN BEING MEAN!

→ Danielricciardo She says that but she was asking if we could get another horse and name it Lando, and another named papaya, this girl is a McLaren fan

→ Ynhere I want a divorce!

→ Lando YOU LOVE ME!

→ Ynhere I don't, shut up...

→ danielricciardo She does

→ danielricciardo You two are sooooo invited!

[the-oblivious-writer]

With Her I Die |14|

Past J.T to Eventual S.S x Female Reader

Chapter Fourteen: Not-So Welcome Home

warnings: grief/loss, references to pregnancy loss, self-harm (character deliberately cutting themselves), suicidal ideation/behavior, blood, starvation/food insecurity, psychological trauma, references to death, and depression.

note(s): none of you know what's coming for chapter fifteen.

taglist: @morganismspam23 @slutforabbyanderson @serendippindots

masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

You slip into the cabin an hour before dawn, moving with the careful silence you've perfected over weeks of hiding. The floor creaks under your weight—unavoidable in this weather-beaten structure—but no one stirs. The steady rhythm of sleeping breaths continues undisturbed as you make your way to the back corner, as far from the others as the limited space allows.

The small bundle you brought contains everything you now own: a crude knife fashioned from scavenged metal, the rabbit fur mittens you made during lonely nights in the cave, the small rabbit Javi had carved for you, a collection of useful stones, and the few articles of clothing you didn't leave behind when you fled. Not much to show for your time away, but survival rarely comes with souvenirs.

You arrange your meager possessions neatly, then wrap yourself in the blanket you've been carrying since you left. It smells like smoke and earth and animal fat—smells like you now. Sleep comes quickly, your body surrendering to exhaustion and the unfamiliar warmth of four walls around you again.

When consciousness returns, it comes with the weight of being watched.

You open your eyes to find Van standing over you, her face a mask of disbelief. The scars from the wolf attack pull at her skin as her mouth opens, closes, opens again—a fish gasping on land. No sound emerges.

"Holy shit," she finally whispers, her voice cracking. "Holy shit."

You don't move, don't speak, just watch as she backs away slowly, as if afraid you might disappear if she blinks. She turns and bolts from the cabin, the door banging open in her wake.

The noise stirs the others. Mari rolls over in her makeshift bed, muttering something unintelligible. Lottie, who sleeps closest to the door, sits up immediately, her eyes finding you in the dim morning light. Unlike Van, she doesn't look surprised. She offers a small nod, as if your return is merely the confirmation of something she already knew, then slides back down beneath her blankets.

You remain perfectly still, trying to delay the inevitable. You had planned this carefully—slip in before dawn, be present when everyone woke, minimize the drama of reentry. No grand gestures, no tearful explanations. Just here again, like a piece of furniture that had been rearranged.

But Van's reaction has derailed that plan. You hear urgent voices outside, footsteps approaching rapidly. The door swings open again, and Tai fills the frame, Van hovering anxiously behind her.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Tai breathes, her eyes wide.

You sit up slowly, the blanket falling away from your shoulders. "Morning," you offer, your voice rusty from disuse. The word sounds absurd in the weighted silence, but you don't know what else to say.

"Morning?" Tai repeats, incredulity sharpening her tone. "Morning? You've been gone for weeks. We thought you were dead. We found your—" She stops, her gaze dropping to your left arm, where the crude stitches form an angry red line from wrist to elbow. "We found Jackie's jacket covered in blood."

"I know." You resist the urge to cover the scar. It's part of you now, like everything else this place has carved into you.

"You know," Tai echoes flatly. "You fucking know."

Van pushes past her, approaching you with cautious steps. "Where have you been?"

Before you can answer—not that you planned to—the cabin door slams open again. Natalie stands there, rifle slung over one shoulder, her silhouette sharp against the morning light.

"What the fuck is going on?" she demands, then sees you. Her expression cycles through disbelief, relief, and settles on pure, undiluted rage. "You've got to be FUCKING kidding me!"

Her shout jolts everyone fully awake. Mari sits up with a gasp, rubbing sleep from her eyes. When she spots you, her mouth drops open.

"Hey," you say, the inadequacy of the greeting painful even to your own ears.

"Hey?" Natalie stalks toward you, each step vibrating with fury. "HEY? We've been mourning you, you selfish piece of shit! We've been—" Her voice breaks, and the crack in her composure is somehow worse than her anger. "We thought you were dead."

"I'm not," you state the obvious, because what else is there to say?

"No fucking shit," Natalie spits, then turns away abruptly, as if she can't bear to look at you.

The commotion draws the others. Travis appears at the doorway, staring at you with undisguised shock. Behind him, Mari pushes her way in, freezing when she sees you sitting there.

"You fucking asshole," she says, her voice a strange mixture of venom and relief. Then, to your complete surprise, she crosses the room and throws her arms around you, the embrace fierce and brief. When she pulls back, her eyes are wet. "You absolute fucking asshole."

The hug catches you off guard, her touch the first genuine human contact you've had in weeks. You stiffen, unsure how to respond, and she steps back quickly, as if remembering herself.

"Where have you been?" Tai asks again, her voice steadier now, slipping into the leadership role she's assumed since the crash. "What happened?"

You open your mouth, then close it. The truth seems both too simple and too complicated. I've been living in a cave five miles from here, having conversations with my dead girlfriend while slowly starving to death because I couldn't face any of you, especially Shauna. Yeah, that would go over well.

"Around," you finally say, the deliberate vagueness making Natalie scoff.

"Around," she repeats mockingly. "While we've been busting our asses to survive, you've been, what? Taking a wilderness vacation?"

You don't answer. Your gaze drifts to your meager belongings, the threadbare clothes, the scars on your hands from making traps, the pronounced hollows of your cheeks reflected in the worry on Van's face. No one would mistake your absence for a vacation.

"Did something happen?" Van asks quietly, her eyes on your stitched arm. "Were you hurt?"

"I'm fine," you say automatically, the lie so familiar it comes without thought.

The door opens again, and suddenly the air in the cabin feels too thick to breathe. Shauna stands in the doorway, her face a perfect blank slate. Her eyes move over the gathered group, landing finally on you, and something flickers across her expression—too quick to name.

You wait for her to speak, but she doesn't. Instead, she turns and walks away, her footsteps crunching in the snow outside until they fade into silence.

It's only then that you notice what should have been immediately obvious. Her bulky coat hangs differently now, her frame returned to its pre-pregnancy lines. The realization hits you like a physical blow. Shauna is no longer pregnant.

The others are still talking, asking questions you have no intention of answering, but their voices fade to background noise as your mind races. How long were you gone? Long enough for Shauna to give birth? What happened to the baby? Is it—

"Are you even listening?" Tai's sharp voice cuts through your thoughts.

You look up to find her watching you with narrowed eyes. "Sorry," you mutter.

"I asked what happened to your arm." She gestures to the jagged scar. "And how your blood ended up all over Jackie's jacket."

You glance down at the evidence of your deception. The wound had been deliberate—not deep enough to cause real damage, but enough to bleed convincingly over the fabric you'd salvaged from the plane wreckage months earlier. Enough to make them think you were gone for good.

"I cut myself," you say simply.

"No shit," Natalie snaps. "On purpose?"

You don't answer, which is answer enough.

"Jesus Christ," Travis mutters, speaking for the first time. "You wanted us to think you were dead."

It's not a question, but you nod anyway, a small acknowledgment of the truth they've already figured out.

"Why?" Van asks, her voice small. "Why would you do that to us?"

Because I couldn't face Shauna after our fight. Because I couldn't stop seeing Jackie everywhere. Because I thought you'd all be better off without me. Because I couldn't stand the way you all looked at me, like I was broken beyond repair.

"I needed some time," is all you say.

"Time," Natalie repeats, disgust evident in her tone. "While we were out here grieving you, you were what? Taking a mental health break?"

The mockery stings, but you don't blame her. From their perspective, your disappearance was an act of supreme selfishness. Maybe it was.

"Where's the baby?" you ask instead, changing the subject so abruptly that everyone falls silent.

Tai's expression hardens. "Don't," she warns.

"Shauna's not pregnant anymore," you persist. "I just want to know if—"

"That's none of your business," Tai cuts you off. "Not after you abandoned us."

Abandoned. The word lands like a slap. Is that what you did? It didn't feel like abandonment at the time—more like retreat, a necessary withdrawal to preserve what little sanity you had left. But looking at their faces now—hurt, angry, confused—you understand how it must have seemed to them.

"I'm sorry," you say, the words inadequate but sincere.

"Sorry doesn't cut it," Natalie says, but some of the heat has left her voice. She studies you for a long moment, taking in your gaunt face, your hollow eyes. "You look like shit."

You almost smile at that. "Thanks."

"No, seriously," she continues, her gaze clinical now. "Have you been eating at all?"

You think of the meager game you managed to trap, the berries that left you retching when you ate too many, the days of gnawing hunger that became so familiar you stopped noticing it. "When I could."

Tai sighs, the sound heavy with resignation. "There's porridge left from breakfast. You should eat something before you pass out."

The gesture, small as it is, feels like the first crack in a dam. Not forgiveness, not yet, but something close to acceptance. You nod gratefully.

As the initial shock of your return wears off, the cabin settles into an uneasy routine. The others continue with their morning tasks, casting glances your way when they think you're not looking. Only Lottie seems unaffected by your presence, going about her business with the same dreamy detachment she's cultivated since the crash.

You eat the cold porridge Tai offers, forcing yourself to take small bites even though your stomach clenches with each swallow. Your body has grown unaccustomed to regular meals, and you know from experience that eating too quickly will only make you sick.

Throughout the morning, you feel the weight of unasked questions. Everyone wants to know where you've been, what you've been doing, why you left in the first place. But they seem to sense your unwillingness to provide those answers, and gradually, the curiosity gives way to a reluctant acceptance of your silence.

All except Shauna, who doesn't return to the cabin. You catch glimpses of her throughout the day—collecting firewood at the edge of the clearing, mending clothes on a fallen log, always maintaining careful distance. Her absence from the communal space feels deliberate, a pointed rejection of your presence.

By nightfall, the initial drama of your return has subsided into something more subdued. You've been reintegrated into the chore rotation without discussion, assigned to help Mari with the evening meal. The work is mindless but grounding—chopping the tough winter vegetables, stirring the perpetual stew that's become your primary source of nutrition. Mari chatters as you work, filling you in on what you've missed, careful to keep the conversation light, away from topics that might require explanation from you.

"Lottie says the spirits are stronger in winter," she tells you, her voice low enough that the others can't hear. "She's been having these dreams... about spring. About what happens when the snow melts."

You glance over at Lottie, who sits cross-legged by the fire, her lips moving in what might be prayer or conversation with something unseen. "Good dreams or bad?"

Mari shrugs. "She won't say. But she's been gathering certain plants, drying them. I think she's planning something."

The information settles uneasily in your stomach. You've noticed changes in the dynamic since your return—subtle shifts in hierarchy, new alliances formed in your absence. Lottie seems to have gained influence, her mysticism offering comfort or direction where rational explanations fail.

As darkness falls completely, everyone gathers around the fire for the evening meal. You take a seat slightly apart from the others, not wanting to intrude on the closeness they've developed while you were gone. Shauna finally joins the group, sitting directly across from you, the flames between you casting her face in flickering light and shadow. She doesn't look at you, not directly, but you feel her awareness of your presence like a physical touch.

The conversation flows around you, everyday topics that require no contribution from you—the dwindling firewood supply, plans for reinforcing the roof before the next storm, speculation about how much longer winter will last. You let the normalcy of it wash over you, grateful for the illusion of routine, even as you sense the undercurrents of tension, the careful way they navigate around the subject of your absence.

It's only when everyone begins to settle in for the night that Shauna finally acknowledges you directly. As the others arrange their sleeping spaces, she approaches, her face unreadable in the dim light of the dying fire.

"Your spot is still there," she says, nodding toward the corner where you slept before, where you placed your things this morning. "No one took it."

The simple statement carries weight you can't quite decipher. An accusation? A peace offering? Both?

"Thanks," you reply, unsure what else to say.

She looks at you fully then, her gaze direct for the first time since your return. Something flickers in her eyes—anger, hurt, something else entirely—before she shutters it away.

"Don't disappear again," she says quietly, her voice pitched for your ears alone. "We can't go through that twice."

Before you can respond, she turns away, moving to her own sleeping area on the opposite side of the cabin. You watch her go, the words you can't bring yourself to say stuck in your throat. I won't. I'm sorry. I missed you. What happened to the baby?

As you settle into your designated corner, wrapping yourself in the familiar blanket that still smells faintly of the cave, you're acutely aware of the eyes on you—some curious, some wary, all waiting to see what happens next. They're expecting something from you—explanations, apologies, assurances that you won't disappear again.

But all you can offer tonight is your presence, your silent promise to stay. Words will have to come later, when the wound of your return isn't so fresh, when you can find language for the darkness that drove you away and the hunger that brought you back.

For now, you close your eyes and listen to the sounds of the cabin at night—the soft breathing of sleeping bodies, the creak of the structure settling, the distant howl of wind through trees. Sounds of life continuing, with or without your participation. Sounds that remind you that regardless of what drove you into isolation, survival here has always been a collective endeavor.

And somewhere in the darkness across the room, Shauna lies awake too, her breathing just slightly too measured to be natural. Both of you faking sleep, both aware of the other's consciousness, neither willing to bridge the gap that yawns between you—wider now than the physical space of the cabin, deeper than the secrets you're both keeping.

Tomorrow, perhaps, you'll find the courage to speak, to ask the questions that burn in your mind, to offer the explanations they deserve. But tonight, it's enough to be here, to be alive, to be seen again.

Tonight, it's enough to have come back from the dead, even if resurrection comes with its own kind of pain.

------

Morning light filters through the cabin's gaps, painting stripes across the floor. You've been awake for hours, watching dust motes dance in the beams, listening to the others stir around you. You've mastered the art of stillness—of being present but unobtrusive, like a shadow that doesn't want to be noticed.

When you finally sit up, something tumbles from the edge of your blanket. A small wooden figure, no bigger than your thumb—a wolf, its features carved with surprising detail despite the crude tools available. You recognize Javi's handiwork immediately. The boy has developed an unexpected talent during your time in the wilderness, transforming scraps of wood into tiny totems.

You turn the carving over in your palm, running your finger along the smooth spine, the pointed ears. It's the second one he's given you—the first, a rabbit, was tucked into your pocket the day before Jackie died. You'd kept it with you during your self-imposed exile, a small reminder of kindness in your darkest moments.

This new offering sits heavy in your hand. A welcome back gift, left while you slept. The gesture makes your throat tighten uncomfortably.

"He spent three days on that," Travis says, making you jump. He stands a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest, watching you examine his brother's work. "Wouldn't tell anyone who it was for. Just said he needed to finish it."

You close your fingers around the wooden wolf. "It's... nice."

Travis raises an eyebrow at your underwhelming response but doesn't push. "Yeah, well. He's got to do something to stay sane out here." He hesitates, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Like the rest of us."

The unspoken question hangs between you—what did you do to stay sane during those weeks alone? But Travis, unlike the others, seems content to leave it unasked. He simply nods, a silent acknowledgment of your return, before turning back to his morning tasks.

The exchange sets the tone for the day. Everyone works around you, giving you space while simultaneously keeping tabs on your whereabouts. It's as if they're afraid you might vanish again if they look away for too long.

You move through the routine in silence, volunteering for the solitary tasks—collecting water from the stream, checking the perimeter traps, gathering kindling in the nearby woods. The physical labor is a relief, far easier than trying to navigate conversations weighted with expectation.

By midday, your self-imposed isolation has begun to wear on Natalie. You can feel her watching you as you meticulously clean the morning's catch, her frustration building with each passing minute of your silence.

"Jesus Christ," she finally explodes, tossing down the knife she's been using to mend a tear in her boot. "Are you just never going to speak again? Is that the new thing?"

You glance up briefly, then return to your task. "I'm speaking when I need to."

"Oh, when you need to," Natalie mimics, her voice sharp with sarcasm. "And when exactly is that? Because so far all I've heard from you is 'yes,' 'no,' and 'pass the water.'"

You shrug, slicing away a fish's head with more force than necessary. "What do you want me to say, Nat?"

"I don't know, maybe start with where the fuck you've been? Or why you decided to fake your own death? Or literally anything about what happened to you out there?" She gestures wildly toward the forest that surrounds the cabin. "You can't just come back from the dead and act like nothing happened!"

The commotion draws attention from the others, who have been conspicuously giving you both space. Van hovers by the door, her expression concerned, while Mari pretends to be deeply invested in the mending on her lap.

"It doesn't matter," you say finally, keeping your voice level.

"Doesn't matter?" Natalie laughs, the sound brittle and sharp. "That's bullshit and you know it."

You continue cleaning the fish, your movements mechanical and precise. "I was gone. Now I'm back. The details aren't important."

"Not important," Natalie repeats, her voice rising. "Not important that we mourned you? That we cried for you? That some of us—" She cuts herself off, shaking her head. "Never mind. Fuck this."

She stands abruptly, snatching her rifle from where it leans against the wall. "I'm going hunting. Alone."

The door slams behind her, leaving a heavy silence in her wake. You continue your work as if nothing has happened, though your hands shake slightly now, betraying the calm you're trying to project.

"She was the one who found the jacket," Van says quietly after a moment. "Your blood on Jackie's jacket. It... it really messed her up."

You look up to find Van watching you, her scarred face solemn in the cabin's dim light. "I didn't mean for that to happen."

"Didn't you?" Van's tone isn't accusatory, just curious. "You left it where we'd find it."

You have no answer for that. The truth is complicated—you hadn't specifically intended for Natalie to be the one to find the deception, but you had counted on someone discovering it. Had wanted them to think you were gone, to stop looking. To grieve and move on, just as you were trying to do with Jackie.

Van sighs at your silence, moving closer to take a seat beside you. She picks up a knife and begins helping with the fish, her hands moving with practiced efficiency.

"Look," she says after a minute, voice pitched low for privacy, "I don't know what happened before you left. I don't know why you cut yourself or planted that jacket or whatever. But Nat's just... she takes things hard, you know? And Tai—" She pauses, glancing toward the door where Tai had exited earlier. "Tai's been through a lot too."

"Tai hates me," you observe, finally putting words to the cold reception you've received from the former team captain.

Van smiles faintly, the expression pulling at her scars. "Tai doesn't hate you. She's just protective of Shauna."

The mention of Shauna makes your hands falter, the knife slipping against slick scales. "Because of the baby," you say, the words more statement than question.

Van studies you for a long moment, seeming to weigh what she should share. "Yeah," she finally says. "Among other things."

You wait for her to elaborate, but she just shakes her head. "It's not my place to talk about it. If you want to know what happened with Shauna, you should ask her yourself."

"She won't talk to me."

"Can you blame her?" Van's tone remains gentle despite the bluntness of her words. "You disappeared right after..." She hesitates. "Right after whatever happened between you two."

You focus on the fish again, gutting it with more concentration than the task requires. "Nothing happened."

"Sure," Van says, clearly unconvinced. "That's why you both look like you've seen a ghost every time you're in the same room."

Before you can respond, the cabin door swings open and Tai enters, arms loaded with firewood. Her gaze immediately finds you and Van sitting together, and something in her expression hardens.

"Van," she calls, her tone deliberately casual, "can you help me with this?"

Van sighs quietly but stands, offering you a small smile. "Just... take it easy, okay? On yourself and on them. We're all just trying to survive here."

She moves to help Tai, who's watching you with undisguised suspicion. You hear their voices, pitched low in conversation by the woodpile, and though you can't make out the words, the tone is clear enough—Tai tense and clipped, Van placating.

You finish cleaning the fish in solitude, acutely aware of the social dynamics shifting around you. In your absence, new alliances have formed, new tensions developed. You're no longer certain of your place within the group's unstable hierarchy.

The day wears on, and you maintain your self-imposed distance, volunteering only for tasks that take you away from the others. By evening, when everyone gathers for the communal meal, you position yourself at the edge of the group, close enough to be present but far enough to avoid conversation.

Across the fire, Lottie watches you with an intensity that makes your skin prickle. Unlike the others, who look away when caught staring, she holds your gaze steadily, something unreadable in her expression.

"I knew you'd come back," she says suddenly, her voice carrying above the murmur of other conversations. The declaration silences the group, all eyes turning first to her, then to you.

"Did you?" you ask, speaking more out of surprise than genuine curiosity.

Lottie nods, her fingers absently tracing patterns in the dirt beside her. "I've been dreaming about you."

The statement hangs in the air, laden with implications you're not sure you want to examine. Before you can respond, Shauna stands abruptly, her bowl still half-full.

"I'm going to check the traps," she announces to no one in particular, already moving away from the fire.

"I just checked them," you say, the words out before you can think better of them. "There was nothing."

Shauna pauses, her back to you. "Then I'll reset them."

She leaves without another word, her silhouette soon swallowed by the gathering darkness beyond the cabin's circle of light. You watch her go, an inexplicable tightness in your chest.

"Nice job," Tai mutters, not quite under her breath. "Really smooth."

"What's that supposed to mean?" you ask, tension coiling in your stomach.

Tai fixes you with a hard stare. "It means you have a lot of nerve coming back here and acting like you didn't—" She stops, jaw clenching. "Never mind."

"No, go on," you press, a spark of the old fire flaring in your chest. "Since everyone seems to have something to say about me leaving, you might as well get it out in the open."

"You want it in the open?" Tai sets down her bowl with deliberate care. "Fine. You abandoned Shauna when she needed you most. After everything with Jackie, after your fight, after she told you about—" She catches herself, glancing around at the others. "After everything, you just disappeared. Let us think you were dead. Do you have any idea what that did to her?"

The accusation lands like a physical blow. "I didn't—"

"You didn't what? Think? Care?" Tai's voice rises with each word. "Shauna was falling apart, and instead of being there for her, you ran away and played dead in the woods for weeks. So yeah, excuse me if I'm not throwing you a welcome back party."

"That's enough, Tai," Van interjects, her hand coming to rest on Tai's arm. "This isn't helping anyone."

"No, but it might knock some sense into—"

"I said enough," Van repeats, her voice unexpectedly firm. "We're all struggling here. Fighting each other doesn't make it easier."

Tai looks at Van for a long moment, something passing between them that you can't quite interpret, then nods once. "Fine." She turns back to you, her expression still hard but the immediate anger contained. "Just stay away from Shauna. She's been through enough."

The directive stings more than it should, but you nod. You have no intention of forcing yourself into Shauna's space, not when she's made it clear she wants nothing to do with you.

The tense exchange effectively ends the communal gathering. People disperse to their evening tasks, the brief unity of the shared meal dissolved by the reminder of unresolved conflicts. You help clean up mechanically, then retreat to your corner of the cabin, fingering the wooden wolf in your pocket, its smooth contours a small comfort.

As night fully descends and everyone settles for sleep, you lie awake, listening to the familiar sounds of the cabin at night—creaking wood, soft breathing, the occasional murmur of someone talking in their dreams. Despite your exhaustion, sleep feels distant, your mind too full of the day's interactions, the questions left unanswered.

Across the cabin, Lottie shifts in her sleep, a soft sound escaping her lips. Your eyes drift to her shadowed form, remembering her words by the fire. I've been dreaming about you. Something in her tone had suggested these weren't ordinary dreams—not with Lottie, who sees things others don't, who senses currents beneath the surface of reality that the rest of you can only guess at.

As if sensing your thoughts, Lottie turns in her sleep, her face catching a stray beam of moonlight through the cabin's cracks. Her expression is peaceful, almost serene, but her lips move, forming words you can't hear from this distance.

You close your eyes, trying to shut out the image, the curiosity it sparks. Whatever Lottie sees in her dreams—whatever connection she claims to have to you—is a complication you're not ready to face. Just as you're not ready to confront what happened with Shauna before you left, or the truth of the baby she no longer carries.

For now, it's enough to be back, to be surrounded by human presence after weeks of isolation. Everything else—the explanations, the apologies, the inevitable confrontations—can wait for tomorrow. Or the next day. Or however long you can maintain this fragile distance between yourself and the consequences of your return.

But as sleep finally claims you, it's not Jackie's face that follows you into dreams, but Shauna's—her eyes meeting yours across the fire, filled with a hurt too deep for words. And somewhere in the darkness of the cabin, Lottie dreams of you too, her visions more intimate, more unsettling than you could possibly know.

[furioussouls]

LADS boys and their love for you as Hozier Songs

Credit: @incorrectloveanddeepspace <3

Summary: LADS boys and their love for you( MC) as Hozier songs.

ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ

Xavier:

• NFWB

When I first saw you, the end was soon

….

Give your heart and soul to charity

'Cause the rest of you, the best of you

Honey, belongs to me

….

Ain't it exciting you, the rumble where you lay?

Ain′t you my baby?

Ain′t you my baby?

Nothing fucks with my baby

Nothing can get a look in on my baby

Nothing fucks with my baby

Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing

If I was born as a blackthorn tree

I'd wanna be felled by you, held by you

Fuel the pyre of your enemies

- Xavier could save his people by sacrificing your life ( “your heart“(l.2)) and yet.. he doesn’t. His protectiveness (l.8 f.) and love for you won’t allow it. Xavier’s love for you is too much, to blindly and overwhelming.

Zayne:

• Francesca

Do you think I'd give up

That this might've shook the love from me

Or that I was on the brink?

How could you think, darling, I'd scare so easily?

Now that it's done

There's not one thing that I would change

My life was a storm, since I was born

How could I fear any hurricane?

If someone asked me at the end

I'll tell them put me back in it

Darling, I would do it again, ah, ah

If I could hold you for a minute

Darling, I'd go through it again, ah, ah

I would still be surprised I could find you, darling

In any life

If I could hold you for a minute

Darling, I would do it again, ah, ah

…..

I would not change it each time (I would not change it each time)

Heaven is not fit to house a love (Heaven is not fit to house a love)

Like you and I (like you and I)

- illustating the tumultuous relationship between Zayne and Astra. It doesn’t matter, Zayne doesn’t regret a single thing second with you. It doesn’t matter what pain he‘ll be put through.

Rafayel:

• Hymn to Virgil

I would burn the world to bring some heat to you

I would burn the world to bring some heat

You are the reason I went through it, oh

The only meaning as I knew it, my-yeah

I can only do my best, I do not do this for myself

I'd walk through hell on living feet for you

I wouldn't be seen walking through any door

Some place that you're not welcome to

You stare at the faces smiling from somewhere warm

Some place the sunlight won't come through

- Rafayel lost his home and people in Lemuria, all for you (l.3). He‘ll do anything for you, give you his everything. You’re the keeper of his heart, after all.

Sylus:

•It will come back and Almost (sweet music)

Don't give it a hand, offer it a soul

Honey, make this easy

Leave it to the land, this is what it knows

Honey, that's how it sleeps

Don't let it in with no intention to keep it

Jesus Christ, don't be kind to it

Honey, don't feed it, it will come back

….

It can't be unlearned

I've known the warmth of your doorways

Through the cold, I'll find my way back to you

Oh, please, give me mercy no more

That's a kindness you can't afford

I warn you, babe, each night, as sure as you're born

You'll hear me howling outside your door

….

I′m almost me again

She's almost you

…

Be still, my foolish heart

Don't ruin this on me

…

I got some colour back

She thinks so, too

I laugh like me again

She laughs like you

- you were the first human to show dragon Sylus gentleness and affection (l.1-3). You should’ve known what the consequences of that would be (l.7). Of course, he can’t let you go. How could he? He‘ll return to you, for the warmth of you is the only one he knows (l. 8-14)

In your current timeline, he‘ll see glimpses of your old self (l.15 - 16) and he feels himself starting to become his old self again. Slowly but surely.

Caleb:

• Work song and Take me to church

There′s nothing sweeter than my baby

I'd never want once from the cherry tree

'Cause my baby′s sweet as can be

She give me toothaches just from kissin′ me

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her

…..

My babe would never fret none

About what my hands and my body done

If the Lord don't forgive me

I′d still have my baby and my babe would have me

When I was kissing on my baby

And she put her love down soft and sweet

In the low lamp light I was free

Heaven and hell were words to me.

……

I'll tell you my sins, so you can sharpen your knife

Offer me my deathless death, oh, good God, let me give you my life

No masters or kings when the ritual begins

There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin

In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene

- Caleb adores you. He worships you. He always has and always will. His love for you fulfills him (l.3-4) and nothing can keep him from you. Not even his alleged death. He‘ll crawl back to you if he must (l.5-8). He’s not ashamed of his love for you, not anymore (l.9-16), however he wishes you both could share the sin of the intensity of your love (l.20)

ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ

A/N: When I’m in a yearning competition but my opponents are the LADS boys or Hozier.

[natsredbra]

Wingwoman, go!

summary: Misty develops a cutesy, high school type of crush on Nat - Van helps her execute it!

a/n: Ooookay, it’s finally here. I will cry if it flops. I’m actually kind of proud of this one, which is rare for me. Ty 📼 anon for this very cool req!

warnings: angst (not too bad tho), Natalie can’t tell what she wants…I actually don’t think if there’s anything else but lmk if you do find something!

word count: 4.9k

pairing(s): Misty Quigley x Natalie Scatorccio; brief Van Palmer x Misty Quigley (but mostly platonic)

taglist: @misty-scatorccio, @towabirdno1fan, @feralnataroni, @flurpe @lesbabe6 @radioactivesweet @ambessasevikasexslave, @ashliami @johnnytoothpick @ikeepgettinglostwithchairs @wompingburg

It was quite a warm, sunny day, though the absence of Mari was much colder. Natalie sat in her hut, awaiting her next inevitable meeting while worrying her head off. She was supposed to protect these damn girls. She’s meant to lead and take charge but no, Shauna Shipman being the way she was kept ruining everything.

“Hey, we good to come in?” Van asked, peering inside and seeing Nat look lost in thought.

“Oh- yeah, sure.” She stammered, moving over to make room for the two girls.

“Hi! You look a little pale, are you alright? Should I get you some water or tea? Or I could-“ Misty rushed as soon as she sat down, taking ahold of the girl’s hand.

“No, Misty I’m fine. Just get on with it.” She said quietly, not looking at her. In truth she didn’t mean to be snippy, but she was extremely irritable right now. Had right to be, too.

“Well we just wanted to go over everyone’s chores today. Gen is being annoying about the shit bucket.” Van said in a bored tone.

Natalie could not fucking believe it. Their friend was out there, somewhere missing and they’re worried about their dumps? Jesus Christ.

“Fucking god, I’ll take it.” She said, rubbing her face with one of her hands. The other one was still in the warmth of Misty’s.

“Hey, it’s okay Nat. I’ll do it, I know how stressed you are.” The curlyhead replied to her.

She sounded different, somehow. Sure, Misty was always there to kiss someone’s ass but this felt different. More affectionate, with genuine worry. Van indeed noticed.

Her eyes narrowed slightly as a smirk formed on her face, observing the unassuming Natalie as she softly nodded, giving Misty a small “thanks.”

“So…we will leave you alone. You go rest or something, you look like hell, okay?” Van added to Nat, with prominent concern.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll try to come up with a plan, just make sure everyone gets ready.” Natalie practically groaned, hugging her knees to your chest and resting her head on them.

The couple of them got out, Misty sending a small wave Nat’s way. She acknowledged it. She really did, with a barely noticeable smile.

“Hey, Quigley!” Van called out, tapping her on the shoulder.

“What’s up?” Misty asked all too enthusiastically, turning around to look at her.

“Well your BPM around Nat, apparently.” She said quieter, putting her hands on her hips as she studied the other girl’s expression. Van looked very amused, and had the “knew it!” expression. Tai and her did bet on chores when they talked about it - Van insisted that Misty had a thing for Natalie.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Misty shot back.

She did.

“Are you kidding? You were practically drooling when she took your hand!” Van said with an amused cackle.

“Okay- you can’t tell anyone!” Misty relented, her voice dropping to a whisper-yell.

“I won’t, don’t worry. It’s very sweet.” Van said, though Misty picked up on the slight mockery.

“Yeah, okay. I knew I shouldn’t have told you, you’ll just make fun of me.” She said in a slightly shaky tone, and for some unforeseen reason, it made Van feel slightly bad.

”Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make it sound that way, god knows I was a dork when I crushed on Tai.” Van soothed with an apologetic glance.

“It’s fine. Thank you for the apology.” Misty replied. Before the redhead could muster a reply, they were cut off by none other than Natalie stepping out of her hut.

“Speak of the devil.”

“Attention! Look, we need to get on this, we can’t just have her wander around. After everything we heard last night, she can’t be out there all alone.” Nat called out to the girls as they gathered.

“What do you mean?” Gen asked, sending down a bucket of water.

“Mari didn’t come home last night.” Tai replied in a bored tone, laced with worry.

“How didn’t you know that?” Someone else exclaimed before Nat cut them off.

“Enough! Now that we all know she’s missing, we need to look for her! I’m not fucking joking, she could be in serious danger.” She scandalized, entirely fed up with them all.

No one spoke for a moment after that.

“Fine, I’m gonna find Mari. Who’s with me?” Natalie asked, looking around for any volunteers.

Van slightly kicked Misty’s leg in a “Raise your hand!” gesture, as if she wasn’t going to already. Indeed, her arm flew up. She felt both hurt and disappointed when Nat seemed annoyed by the gesture.

“Shauna. You’re coming with me.” She directed, though it didn’t do much for the brunette.

“I’m not looking for her. Fuck Mari.” Shauna seethed, seeming offended Natalie even had the nerve to ask.

It made Misty a little giddy now, knowing she had no choice but to go with her. Van shot her a knowing look and a grin. “I’m coming too!” Misty cheered, clasping her hands together once she got up.

“We’re going right?” Tai asked.

“Yeah, but not with them.” Van replied, already heading to the woods.

“Obviously.”

—————

“Where do you think she went?” Misty asked, following Nat like a puppy. They had been walking for some time now, and Misty attempted casual conversation more than once, even when Nat didn’t seem to engage.

“Well we know Mari skipped dinner and there’s berries that way, so…” Natalie replied flatly.

“Oh smart! Decisive.” Misty called out, staying quiet for a moment. “You know, if there’s anything you wanna talk about, we can-“

“Well, when Travis and I went hunting we didn’t really talk, we just kind of quietly…” Natalie said, looking down at her feet.

Oh yeah, she knew what they did, it wasn’t talking. Didn’t like it. She decided to change the topic.

“Too many people have disappeared without a trace. Crystal…Coach Scott.” She knew it was a risky mention, but went with it.

“Mm, fuck Coach Scott.” Nat retorted, pursing her lips with an eye roll.

“Do you think that he’s dead? Do you think he definitely burned the cabin down?” Misty inquired further.

Natalie stayed quiet. The truth was, it was a difficult topic for her. More so then any of them really. But long live the Scatorccio name, she’d never admit it.

“He always believed in you, you know. I think he’d be really proud of what you built.” Misty said with no ill intention, yet it scratched Nat’s brain differently.

‘Proud.’ As if anyone was ever truly proud of her. Not her dad, not Travis, not Coach Scott. Misty was proud, Natalie didn’t know it. She payed no attention to it.

“Coach Scott didn’t know shit about me, we basically never spoke.” She shot back at the girl, speeding along.

“Wait wait!” Misty ran up, placing a hand on Nat’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to add salt to the wound or anything! I just thought you’d wanna know-“

Natalie wanted to be like the others, just tell her to fuck off and roll her eyes, she really did. But that’s simply not who she was, especially around Misty for some reason. The girl was annoying and overbearing to no end, but for she intrigued her. It was a mystery as to why, yet it still happened every time they would talk.

“It’s alright. I know you didn’t mean it in a bad way. And I shouldn’t have snapped.” She interjected, scratching her head. It wasn’t an apology but it was pretty damn close - more then Misty every heard.

“Oh, yeah…thank you.” Misty chipped, awkwardly letting her hand drip from Nat’s shoulder.

She looked into the half-blonde’s eyes. They were gorgeous, green, and it complimented her fair skin tone so well. Her hair may have been grown out, but it’s the most beautiful Misty’s ever seen it. Somehow, Nat was also still soft to the touch. Maybe the summer humidity worked in her favor, she thought, but her own callouses were simply outnumbered. Not that she wouldn’t kiss those as well, as little as Nat has them.

“We should carry on.” Natalie said softly. She could see Misty studying her, not looking or checking her out. Genuinely looking over her and mapping out her features. Natalie also thought it was simple admiration.

She stayed quiet due to the mutual, unsaid agreement between them. That Natalie was someone to be proud of.

—————

With all the productive conversation they had, Mari was still a no show for anyone that looked for her. Bummed that their efforts were fruitless, the Yellowjackets settled back into their humble abodes.

“So, how’d it go with…y’know?” Van questioned as Misty came along.

“Well we didn’t find Mari.” Misty said as she set her bag down.

“Yeah, that sucks, but I’m asking what happened with Nat?” Van asked, can you blame her for being invested? There was absolutely no harmless drama in that forest anymore, this is all she could het right now! And the two of them getting together would be as funny as it would be cute, why wouldn’t she wanna participate in that?

“I don’t know, okay?! She definitely doesn’t like me back. I don’t wanna get my hopes up about something that I know won’t happen.” She bellowed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You don’t know anything! Everyone is so horny out here, I saw Melissa and Gen humping each other by the lake.” Van argued back, seeing how the girl���s eyes glimmered with a bit of hope. “I’m just saying, nothing is impossible. If I got Taissa you could get Madonna.”

“You really think I can do this?” Misty bugged, there was never enough praise or reassurance for her.

“Sure, why not? And hey- worst case scenario is she rejects you, which is what you’re expecting anyway.” Van stated bluntly, taking a seat next to her.

They observed Natalie as she talked to Tai across camp, seemingly making a plan for finding Mari the next day. Covering more ground, going south, that sort of thing.

“She’s so pretty.” Misty declared, looking at Natalie as if she hung the moon and the stars. It was the way she thought of her anyway.

Van could only give her a knowing glance from the side. Really, she knew the feeling all too well.

—————

The morning soon came, and with it more worry for Mari’s disappearance. There was no sign of her, and they were all preparing for the inevitable, though no one had in them to voice it.

Natalie got up early. Too early for her liking, but she had a lot on her mind. Yes, her missing friend was not a comforting thought, but what unfortunately lingered the most was the conversation she had with none other than Misty Quigley.

She chose not to think of the hand that lingered on her shoulder for a moment too long, yet her very words. Did she really think coach would be proud of her or was she saying it to get on her good side, just like she tried with everyone else? Natalie asked herself as she stared at the pointy ceiling that gave away a couple rays of sunlight.

But this time, she seemed so raw and authentic, and nothing like what the other girls saw of her. Misty wasn’t the annoying or overbearing girl everyone knew her to be in that moment - she was caring not conniving. Wasn’t plotting a way to be accepted but giving her true reassurance. It hit Natalie harder then it should have

She hated how it made her feel. How feeling seen, even by Misty fucking Quigley made her stomach flutter and an involuntary, tiny smile stretch over her face. Jesus Christ she wasn’t actually smiling over Misty Quigley!

Whatever, Nat chose to ignore her emotions yet again and decided she needed fresh air and a cold splash of water on her face.

Once she did get down to the lake, with Nat’s great luck, Misty appeared to be there too.

“Oh, hey! Why are you up, it’s only now sunrise?” Misty called out, turning to look at Nat.

“Couldn’t sleep.” Natalie gruffly answered, taking a seat beside her.

“Nightmare?” Misty questioned, far too chipper at this hour.

“Something like that. Why are you up?” Nat pondered quietly, glancing up at her.

“I always get up early. I don’t like wasting the day.”

“Right.”

They sat in silence for a long moment yet surprisingly, Natalie was the one to break it.

“Did you mean what you said yesterday? About Coach…?” She inquired in a soft, unsure tone. It made Misty’s heart melt.

“Of course I meant it. How could I not? Anyone would be proud of you, much less him! You were his favorite.” Misty reassured still as her hyper self, though she toned it down a little. The air between them seemed charged, with what, only god knows.

“You’re an amazing leader. Don’t let Shauna or anyone make you believe anything else.” Misty added with a firm tone, her eyes boring through Natalie’s face. She still didn’t look at her.

“Thank you.” She muttered anyway, not letting her tears show.

Misty noticed, she always did. Always would.

Without thinking twice she lunged forward, wrapping her arms around Nat’s laden, slender frame. She felt like absolute heaven in her grip, even her soft sobs and watery eyes were like renaissance art for Misty to explore and interpret in her own way.

As if she was everyone else’s in theory but hers alone right now. Natalie was hers to appreciate and nurture as would be a sagging lamb. She almost was, in a way.

“Shh, it’s okay. It’s gonna be better, I promise. If anything I’ll make it better…” Misty cooed, circling her arms around Nat’s neck, hands coming out to soothingly scratch her scalp.

Natalie’s were protectively crossed over her chest, yet she made no move to pull away. Simply enough, she curled up in Misty’s hold as hot tears streamed down her face. She was quiet, letting out small sighs and whimpers as she wept.

The moment was abruptly broken by a cheering commotion back at their camp, making them both whip their heads up. Their looks of confusion soon disappeared once they heard none other than Mari’s voice.

Misty took the liberty to wipe the stray wetness that lingered on Nat’s face before helping her get up on her feet. Without another word they hurried along, two minutes felt like hours with all the anticipation running through their veins.

"Mari!" Misty yelled out, running up to the girl. She looked absolutley exhausted and in pain - god knows what even happened to her.

"Thank god you're okay! I mean thank the dirt or whatever- I'm so glad you're not dead." She urged with a laugh that got returned, Natalie moving to stand behind them.

"Where were you?" Charged Shauna, coming in with all her angry glory.

"I walked back to civilization so I could fuck your dad!" Mari chided in a sarcastic tone.

"She fell in a hole and fucked up her knee." Taissa answered instead.

"I dislocated it. Like the girl we played from Manasquan last year. The kneecap was back here and I had to push it all the way in."

"Oh!" "Ew!"

"The hole was like- twenty feet deep, I thought I was gonna die in there! Like Baby Jessica!"

"Baby Jessica didn't die."

"And that was a well."

"A well's a hole." Mari finished off before being abruptly interrupted by Shauna.

"If your knee was so fucked, how'd you get out?" Shauna mockingly inquired after which followed a long silence.

She looked around the girls which returned skeptical looks, expecting a believable answer. Once she realized she couldn’t come up with one, she went with the truth and hoped for the best.

"Coach Scott found me...he tied me up and took me to this cave he's been living in." Mari finally explained, earning gasps that came from sheer disbelief.

Natalie’s chest almost felt like it was in her throat “Fuck.” She muttered, out of fear or rapture, she wasn’t sure, and it was a thin line.

"I knew it! He's totally lost it" Van grumbled with a scoff.

"You don't know that!" Misty defended. Not coach, for Natalie.

"Dude he tied her up and took her to his lair!" Van tried to reason again, though their bickering was soon over

"Can you find your way back?"

—————

After the whole ordeal, as they were getting ready to head off Misty sat in her hut, packing a few necessities. She heard a slight ruffle outside, revealing herself to be Van as she entered.

“So, I saw you were with Nat when Mari came back.” Van prodded with peaking curiosity, sitting down on the hard ground barely covered by a lanky sleeping bag.

“Yeah, so what?” Misty tried to play it off, the slight red hue of her cheeks becoming quite obvious.

“Well…any game?” Van inquired, wanting to coax a satisfying answer. She was living for this, truly.

“No, not really. I mean she was super upset so I hugged her and stuff, but that’s it.” Misty replied dreadfully, zipping her backpack in quite an aggressive manner.

“Dude what?! Natalie hugged you? You do realize that’s like - a huge deal, right?” Van scandalized in a whisper - yell, leaning in in immense interest.

“What do you mean?” Misty asked hurriedly, setting her bag down as her investment skyrocketed.

“Are you joking? Do you know how fucking rare it is for Nat to show someone she’s upset, let alone hug them?” Van exclaimed with a dry laugh.

“Wait, really?”

“Damn, you might be better at this than we thought.” Van jested with a sly grin, pressing her back flat against the hut’s wall yet again. “But wait, do you know how to y’know…properly?”

“Do what now?” Misty shot back, tone laced with confusion.

“Kiss, Quiggles. Do you know how to make out? Other lessons you’ll learn along the way.”

Oh

Oh.

“I mean- I tried, with this boy once. But we were little, maybe eleven. And it was tongueless.” Misty replied with a bit of embarrassment, but mostly a strange sort of engagement.

“Seriously? Nat likes good kissers.” Van murmured in a small question. “How about I teach you?” She blurted out all too casually.

“What? What do you mean teach me?” Misty quietly implored.

“I mean kiss you, teach you to kiss.”

“Seriously? Won’t Taissa be mad?” She bugged, cheeks beet red.

“She’ll be fine, she knows. So you good to do this?” Van dismissed and asked, that fucking grin still on her face.

“Yeah, sure.”

Van nodded carefully, now taking a gentler approach towards the girl. She spread out her legs in front of her, silently urging her to climb into her lap. Misty takes the hint, carefully straddling Van’s lower thighs, almost where her knees arch.

Van was slightly amused and chuckled at Misty’s nervousness, though she didn’t say anything to make it tougher on her. Instead, she leaned forward, inches away from her chapped, pink lips.

She took a moment for Misty to get comfortable and take a deep breath before snaking her hand to the back of her neck, angling closer until their lips met.

At first, it was a soft, close mouthed press against each other’s lips. They lingered there for a moment until Misty took the liberty to place her hands gently on Van’s hips.

From there it slightly escalated, as Misty parted her lips in a soft gasp, Van took the opportunity to envelop the girl’s top lip between her own. The action repeated as they both got touchier, breathing heavier.

Misty tried her luck, slipping her tongue past Van’s entrance. Surprisingly, Van let her, swirling her own against it in a swift, practiced dance.

All Misty could think about was Natalie. What gave her confidence was imagining it all being her. Her imagination knew no bounds normally either, so how could it in a moment like this?

In her very mind, the scenario was much different. She pictured Nat, in all her leather jacket glory, pulling her into her lap and crashing her lips against hers like there was no tomorrow. Like there wouldn’t be tomorrow if she hadn’t. It was what Misty wanted the most, really, to feel needed by Natalie, and god was her head running wild right now.

Van’s mouth against hers never relented, letting her feel the moment out. They found a nice, slow and sensual rhythm the more they went on. It might’ve been the funnest teaching moment Misty ever had, really. Second to the first aid class she took sophomore year, of course.

“Is everyone ready?” Shauna shouted out, making them both jump.

Misty was abruptly taken out of her imaginary haze, wide eyed and flushed once she pulled away. Van gave a her a soft giggle before pushing her off her lap, getting up and ready for the journey.

It was a long one indeed, once they reached the very crucial clearing the sun had already set. Mari needed many breaks due to her leg, and it was too hot to go fast anyhow. Everyone felt a rush of panic once Mari stopped, standing confused as to where she’s supposed to go.

”For fucks sake, really?” Tai barked at her.

“I’m not lost okay? I’m just remembering.” She replied, looking around.

“Hey, it’s okay, take your time. You got this.” Came from none other than Shauna. Surprising at first glance perhaps, yet obvious with her intent.

After much exhausting walking and the group bonding over jelly legs and excessive blisters, all of them arrived to the almighty cave.

"That's it! Over here!" Mari exclaimed in excitement as they all gathered around.

"Shauna wait!" Misty jumped in, "We're really gonna just...go in?" She asked, entirely skeptical of the situation.

"What did you think we were gonna do? What do you think happens when we go inside? You guys, we don't have to do this." Natalie tried one last time, though her efforts proved to be fruitless.

"Yeah, we do."

"Fine. I'm going first - you two stand guard, if you see anything just scream your asses off." Nat stated, and everyone complied without a question.

Like a dumb action movie hero she went in first, protecting her group. Misty went in right behind her as well as the other girls.

Pretty soon they were blocked - in Shauna and Akilah's opinion a diversion made by Ben, yet in Nat's a collapse.

They stood there, doing the only thing they all knew how to - argue pointlessly.

"It's a double bluff, like in that movie with the two guys!"

"The Princess Bride?"

"How the fuck do you know that?"

"We should try both. Shauna, you Van and Akilah take the open path, the rest of us will try to clear out what we can here. Take two lanterns, we'll take the other three and if you run into trouble just get loud, we'll do the same." Natalie commanded quite like she was born for it, with which they parted ways.

Misty inevitably stayed by Nat's side all the way as they searched with no sign of hope. It only got harder the more tired they got, and none could seem to pound down the large mass of rocks piled up in the cave's corridor.

“Do you think he’s in here?” She asked her, holding one of the lanterns for them both.

“I don’t know.” Nat commented, entirely unsure of it all.

“Do you want him to be?” Misty striked again. This girl just always knew how to push Natalie’s buttons.

“They won’t kill him if you don’t let them.” Misty said in a hushed tone to prevent the others from hearing.

Natalie didn’t say anything, because she truly didn’t know what the hell would happen. If Shauna found him first who knows what she would do? God knows she isn’t waiting for permission.

It seemed impossible, clearing it all out. Also seemed as if there was nothing there anymore, as if a black hole enveloped them.

That was at least all until they heard yelling at the other side, fucking Ben, nonetheless.

Hurriedly the girls followed the sound, meeting with a mix of panicky and drowsy Shauna, Akilah and Van and a very roughed up Ben.

Natalie immediately approached him, pointing the rifle right at his chest, "Sorry coach, you're coming with us." The way she said it was kinda hot, Misty thought, but now was not the time.

The walk back was packed with tension. It was quiet and uncomfortable with occasional grumbles between friends.

Misty was there for Natalie. While she had to police their supposedly psychotic coach, she was there by her side, not letting her do it on her own.

“You’re being really brave, Nat.” She mumbled, rubbing Nat’s arm in a quick, comforting motion.

Natalie stayed quiet again - and Misty didn’t take it badly. The reason is because Nat has a specific look she gets when she’s appreciative or obviously reassured, and in that moment, it was painted all over her face.

Putting Ben down in the animal pen, everyone went off to sleep in terrible exhaustion.

—————

Misty caught sight of Natalie sitting by the fire, not yet putting it out. She had a blanket loosely wrapped around her, shielding her from the slight wind that went along every night. It was a nice change from the constant warmth, like a caressing, soft hand easing another one of their troubles.

Troubles, with which Nat seemed to deal with right now. She was sulking, shoulders hunched with quite a sad look in her eye that you barely see. No resentment, no anger. Simple and utter sadness.

“Nat?” Misty approached slowly, careful not to disturb her in case she wanted to be by herself.

“Yeah?” She answered faintly, keeping her eye on the swaying flames in front of her. Before she got stuck out here, she never noticed how interesting fire was.

“Do you wanna talk?” Misty tried again, wrapping her arms around herself - an action she took when she felt afraid of being ostracized or dismissed yet again. Somehow, she never got used to it.

Natalie simply shook her head, and with a tinge of disappointment, Misty slowly walked back to her hut - before she got stopped, that is.

“You can stay. I mean - will you?” Natalie hoped, raising her head to lock her eyes with Misty’s.

Misty, as if on autopilot, frantically nodded before settling down next to the very bane of her existence. Dramatic, maybe? But then again, she got reject more times then she could count, it only made sense for her to be cautious and fearsome.

The couple of them sat in silence - not sure if it was a comfortable one. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable either. Only sound that could be heard was the soft cackle of the fire, casting a warm orange glow over their faces.

Misty glanced to the side, taking note of Natalie’s lineaments. She looked gorgeous in this light, a true undiscovered beauty that made Misty write poetry with her eyes. Nat’s features were more prominent, shining with the acedia of her own actions. The girl would always find a way to blame herself.

Then there was Misty. Not studied, but very thought of. Natalie pondered about her, she could feel her gaze burning holes onto the side of her face, unsure and wondering. She felt wrong and embarrassed for the way she felt, yet the more she tried to push it away, the bigger the feeling got. Why Misty Quigley, out of everyone? Why is she the one to make her feel so safe and accepted? How did she make her feel so secure just this morning, with a hug and a couple sweet nothings? How did her presence make her feel calmer?

“Misty I-“ She started, feeling conflicted and confused.

“What is it?” Misty asked with a tinge of unease.

“I don’t know.” Nat whispered, more to herself than the other girl.

Her eyes stayed glued to the scene in front of her, even though her mind ran insane. What was this feeling and why is it what she felt for Travis before they got together? How is it even possible? She dared not say the word that lingered in her thoughts and without better thinking, she lunged forward and pressed her lips firmly against Misty’s.

Neither of them could believe it, really. Misty was surprised to no end, yet she didn’t back away, as if she ever would. It was what she’d dreamt of for months- Natalie. It was what she dreamt of for years- to be seen. The kiss stretched on, going from a soft brush to a deep mess in seconds, it was primal in a way.

Natalie’s fingers locked in Misty’s curls, making her let out a small, involuntary whine as her grip on the blanket tightened.

All good things do come to an end, and this one’s just so happened to be once Nat pulled away.

[bagels-and-cream-cheese333]

RAPH FICS.

WARNING: I HAVE A FUCKED UP TASTE IN LITERATURE. A LOT OF THESE COVER VERY SERIOUS TOPICS. READ THE SUMMARY I GIVE OF THE FICS AND READ THE TAGS, DON’T PURPOSEFULLY TRIGGER YOURSELF, PLEASE AND THANK YOU, HAVE A NICE DAY. 

Here I am, giving my concerning amount of ROTTMNT Raph fics to you :) the poll I made got an astounding almost 100% yes soooo I’m guessing y’all want these <3 also PS it is VERY IMPORTANT to read the trigger warnings in the actual fic because I might not cover all of them/forget a couple!!

defective by a_rutabaga - oneshot

defective - a_rutabaga - Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

Prison Dimension Raph tries to protect his brothers, but just ends up hurting everyone (including himself) in the process. It’s not pretty (I’m lying it’s very handsome I absolutely adore this fic.) I will say that it’s made for the prison dimension turtles AU, which you should TOTALLY CHECK OUT. THAT AU IS INCREDIBLE. TW for body horror, mind manipulation and control <3 and just overall bad things happening :)

Survivor’s Guilt by JupiterJimsBootyyyShaker - multichapter, ongoing

Survivor’s Guilt - Chapter 1 - JupiterJimsBootyyyShaker - Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018) [Archive of Our Own]

Touches on the guilt Raph has after Leo sacrificed himself, and the consequences of the Kraang. Siiighhhh I adore this fic <3 everything from the overwhelming, debilitating guilt to Raph refusing to leave Leo’s side? Muah. No notes. Perfect. TW for nightmares, vomiting, guilt obv, refusing to eat, and technically self harm in the first chapter.

deep gut by ironAdage - oneshot

deep gut - ironAdage - Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018) [Archive of Our Own]

Raph’s trauma catches up to him, and he overeats. Again. And again. And again. Or Raph develops bulimia: the fic. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaa…… oh my god this fic was AMAZING. SHOWSTOPPING. PERFECT EVEN. definitely showed me that I have some things Very Very (that’s two verys) Wrong with my brain, but wtv fuck it we ball. This just shows his mental state and everything AMAZINGLY. Ugh it’s beautiful <3 TW for bulimia, shame, the works. 

Hold On, Pain Ends by douchegrayson <3 - multichapter, completed

Hold On, Pain Ends - Chapter 1 - douchegrayson - Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018) [Archive of Our Own]

Raph deals with the aftermath of the Kraang <3 basically another aftermath fic. AAAAAAAA but BRO. This hurt in the best way possible. Absolutely adore this <3 the ending? WOW. NEVER THOUGHT THAT MEDIA COULD TOUCH ME LIKE THIS. Just go read it guys it’s amazing <3

and then.. we have…..

the quarantine series by somethin-strange - multichapter, ongoing

quarantine - Somethin_Strange - Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018) [Archive of Our Own]

An entirely new take on Raph’s experience with the Kraang. Genuinely cannot sing enough praises for these fics, definitely some of the best I’ve ever fuckin read. Jesus Christ guys just go read it I need more ppl to talk to about this <3 and honestly it has something for everyone. It has Leo angst, Donnie angst, Mikey angst, even Splinter and April and Casey Jr. get their moments. Honestly TW for like SO MANY things though, mind control, manipulation, themes of SA, needles, major blood n gore, and probably more since those are just off the top of my head. But goddamn is it good. Check it out.

The Foundation by LotusFlair - multichapter, ongoing

The Foundation - Chapter 1 - LotusFlair - Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

This has got to be my (tied) second fav raph author ever because WHAT THE FUCK

this goddamn fic. has messed up my mental state. it is rearranging my brain waves as we speak. I can’t think normally anymore this fic is just BURROWED in there. Basically Raph gets excluded by his siblings <3 <3 not on purpose. But damn. It’s written so well. And then mystic powers go brrrrr and then brain n brawn and then sunset duo and then magnetic twins and baby raph AAAAAAA. My explanation skills are absolute shit but cmon. ITS AMAZING. THE CHARACTERIZATION? ON POINT. WRITING? EVEN MORE ON POINT. TRAUMAAAA?? don’t get me started

Eventful Night by The_Most_Neon_Leon

Eventful Night - Chapter 1 - The_Most_Neon_Leon - Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018) [Archive of Our Own]

Look guys. I know. I know… only one chapter.. but that will not stop me from aggressively crushing on this fic. I think about it atleast twice a week. I HAD A DREAM ABOUT IT. and chapter two is canonically in the works so <3 basically Raphie has nightmares blah blah comforts Mikey’s there, Kraang angst. Very good fic. Love it. 

ain’t much that’s dumber by rolameny - multichapter, completed

ain't much that's dumber - Chapter 1 - rolameny - Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018) [Archive of Our Own]

Guys I don’t think y’all understand the sheer amount of illness I feel about this fic whenever it’s mentioned. The brain worms have successfully wormed into my brain. I can’t even pick one solid thing about this fic to focus on because it’s ALL. SO. GOOD. GO READ IT. also this author is the other author tied for my second fav Raph author (take a shot everytime i say author, you’ll end up dead)

and then just every single one of somethin_strange’s raph fics ahem ahem who said that.

One of Them Days by goldenspecter - oneshot

One of Them Days - goldenspecter - Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018) [Archive of Our Own]

Can you tell my ability to summarize these fics is going down auwjekcmwkjw… anyway. FANTASTIC FIC!!! Love when Donnie comforts Raph <333 Raph with depressive episodes my beloved <333 brains and brawn will never fail to get my brain going vrrooommmmmmm

Several Studies in Scarlet by douchegrayson <3 - multichapter, ongoing

Several Studies in Scarlet - Chapter 1 - douchegrayson - Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018) [Archive of Our Own]

Ooooaoahwhwkdkdm this is LITERALLY SO GOOD. I mean everything by douchegrayson is but THIS ESPECIALLY <3 LOVE IT <3 the fourth chapter… definitely hit different. Honestly I absolutely love the idea of this,  it’s always been bouncing around in my brain that Raph was fundamentally different from his bros, but this chapter put that into words in the best way possible. Also love how short it was but how I was able to feel every sentence <3

Anyhow that’s all!! For now. I have like 100 more but I’m getting a lil tired from summarizing them so if the people want a part two then it’ll likely just be same title format, links to the fic, and a copy/pasted summary.

[ofeliaxoxo]

ok this is a silly one just written there quickly...the opening of a crackfic basically. @princesslich inspired by your beautiful paul mescal fuckboy reply guy visions im so passionate about them

He finds out by accident. Which is even weirder. What if he hadn’t? He’d never have known about it, what was going on behind his back.

He finds out because Carlos, distracted, doesn’t lock his phone when Charles comes up next to him to say hello, just drops it down on the table, so Charles can’t help but notice it, the chat open with Paul Famous Movie Star, the text, I’ll be around next week. The selfie, above that. Of Paul Famous Movie Star. It’s not the type of picture you send to the guy you met a couple of times to sell a movie. It’s not the type of picture you send to a man.

Charles, maybe, should have responded differently, but it’s like being hit by a train. Those old cartoons, where little animals get flattened by anvils. Charles is some sort of raccoon being battered by a hammer. So he isn’t in control of what’s happening when he opens his mouth and goes, far too loudly - people actually turn and look - “oh no, Carlos, fuck, oh my god.”

Carlos is frozen, caught, turns off his phone but the damage is done. Charles isn’t done.

“What the fuck? No! Jesus Christ, what the hell, Carlos.”

Carlos drops his head into his hands.

“Can you shut up, Charles, please. Please be quiet.”

“Can I - you are, no, what the hell, Carlos, what - why?”

“Please. I am begging you.”

Charles shuts up at that, drops heavily into the seat next to him, which has a coat draped over it. They could come back any minute. Charles doesn’t want to have to speak to Carlos’s father right now.

“You have to explain,” he manages to be quieter this time. His teeth are buzzing.

“I think you have understood.”

Carlos has his arms folded, eyes on the table in front of him. His nails are digging into the skin of his arms, where he’s squeezing too tightly, gripping so hard, staying so still.

“No, I - it’s ok, I have just got a shock. I don’t,” hard to say it though, hard to make it sound right, because he does, “I don’t mind.”

“No?” Carlos looks at Charles for the first time so far.

“No,” it gets caught on the way out. He doesn’t - it isn’t that. Gay people are fine. But not when it’s Carlos, with Paul bloody Mescal. That isn’t supposed to happen. 

“Really?”

Yes, Charles will say, of course it is fine. We are still all equals. These things are ok. I still see you the same as before.

“But why Paul?” he can’t help it, he just can’t. He needs to know. “I did not think you were so close.”

Carlos cringes, rubs a hand over his face. 

“We are not super close, mate,” he says into his palm.

“But you -”

“Yes.”

Charles is going red, he’s sure of it. The heat is smarting in his face. He needs to leave. He will get up and leave.

“How -”

“No, no, enough, please.”

Another text comes through, lights up the screen. Paul again. Carlos doesn’t pick up his phone.

“Are you going to answer him?”

Big sigh, like Charles is the one presenting challenges.

“Not right now.”

There’s no way this is happening. Since when? It’s not fair, to do this and not to tell him. Now Charles feels like an idiot. Were they laughing at him, waiting to be alone, every time? But the three of them were only together a couple of times, never in places that Carlos could have - 

How did they find out? How did they start?

“So you will just ignore him?”

“I am not ignoring him, I am waiting. It’s none of your business, mate.”

Carlos is only pretending to be casual. Charles knows what he looks like when he’s unworried and this isn’t it. There’s tension running through him, keeping him stiff and unwilling to share.

Would he ever have told Charles? Will he not tell him anything else? Surely he understands that he needs to explain at least a little bit, can’t just keep fucking Paul Mescal and saying nothing about it. That wouldn’t make any sense.

“Charles, hello!” 

Teto in the distance. Fuck. Charles scrambles to stand up, thwacks his knee off the underside of the table in his hurry. His stomach is twisting, the jolt of the surprise making it weird. He should have had a smaller breakfast.

[angualupin]

very brief actually not brief at all spoilery thoughts regarding Andor S2 E01-03

Andor is a horror show

Andor neither pulls its punches nor assumes its audience is stupid, both of which I appreciate

the amount left unsaid is just as important as what is said, and that's a script that knows its job (especially in a show known for its monologues)

the tension just continues to ratchet up throughout the three episode arc, but -- crucially -- broken with moments of levity that remind you just how terrible everything else is being

none of those moments of levity are there purely to be moments of levity. the absurdity of a life-and-death situation being decided by Rock Paper Scissors? there to contrast with the slick professionalism of the Empire. Krennic saying 'I met with the Emperor yesterday'? key character moment highlighting that the lies go deeper than what is constructed in that room. the entire toxic facade of whatever the fuck Dedra and Syril had going on? well actually I have a LOT to say about that

the entire arc is about masks. The masks Mon and Luthen put on when they're in high society. The mask Leida wears when she pretends the wedding is what she wants. The mask Cassian wears when he's doing Secret Spy Shit. The mask Krennic puts on when he has to convince a room full of bureaucrats that he has real power. The mask the Ferrix refugees have to put on for the Imperial inspection. And none of them are as false, none of them are as fucking painful to watch, as the masks that Dedra and Syril put on when they are attempting to play Happy Families. Because the people Dedra and Syril are trying to convince are themselves, and what they are trying to convince themselves of is that they still have souls. That they are still human, inside, despite everything. And they are failing. They are failing so hard. That facade is so hollow. They know it is hollow, but they are going through the motions anyway, because the alternative is to confront the yawning darkness behind their eyes, and neither one is ready to do that. Yet.

if you had asked me before the season started what had to be done to make Syril actually an interesting character, I would not have answered "put him in a toxic heterosexual relationship with Dedra", but they did and it works

I actually, genuinely, found those scenes to be more painful to watch than That Scene with Bix

kinderblock jesus motherfucking christ

anyway, Bix ends up smashing him over the head with a hammer, and it's great (I mean, it's not great, nothing is great, the entire point of this show is that literally nothing is great, but she *did* smash him over the head with a hammer, and I'm going to take the positives where I can find them)

Genevieve O'Rielly continues to astound, what a phenomenal actress we lucked into 25 years ago

A. pointed out after we watched the show that there were three marriages in the arc (the obvious one, Dedra and Syril doing the Meet The Parents thing, and Bix referring to her "husband" off planet -- Cassian is not her husband, but. Also he is.) and three divorces (Tay's separation from his wife being one of the reasons why he's spiraling, the ongoing slow-burn divorce that Mon and Perrin have been living through for the past twenty years, and Vel and Cinta). Which. Every single one of those is a disaster.

of all of them I think Vel and Cinta hurt the most, though. "I told you up front, the struggle comes first. We take what's left."

and that's obviously going to be one of the strongest themes of the season. We take what's left. And mostly what will be left will be ashes.

I said it about S1 and I'm saying it again now, one of the essential things that allows this story to work the way it does, to be as powerful as it is, is because we know the end. As one of the writers of AMC's The Terror (2018) said (paraphrased): "Once you remove the question of if they die, you get to explore how they live." Cassian retrieves the Death Star plans and then dies on a beach on Scarif. Mon throws away her position of power for the ability to make one public speech and then ends up in a stolen Imperial shuttle being picked up by the Ghost. I'm operating on the assumption that everyone else is going to die in front of me this season.

we have three and a half years until then. Until the Ghorman massacre and Mon's speech and her screaming match with the holographic head of Saw Gerrera. Four years until Cassian dies bringing hope to the galaxy. Four years and nine episodes.

Andor is a horror show

[panerasbox]

—GET USED TO IT; 13 Days To Go

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x fem!Reader.

Genre: smut.

Word count: 869.

summary: Melissa Schemmenti doesn’t do flowers. Doesn’t do candy bars. Doesn’t do intimacy. Too many bad memories — Joe, Gary, Robinson — all reminders that wanting more only ever got her hurt. You figured her out without her saying a word, and when you touched her, you made her believe for the first time that maybe she didn’t have to settle for almost.

a/n: thank you once again to @babytakeittothehead for the prompt idea!!

30 DAYS OF MELISSA SCHEMMENTI MASTERLIST

Melissa Schemmenti had her dislikes.

Flowers? Nope — reminded her of Joe’s BS.

Candy bars? reminded her too much of Gary.

Captain Robinson never got it. Sure, he could put out actual fires, but the one inside her? Never stood a chance.

You just knew her deal. Never said it out loud. Never made her spell it out. That you figured it out without making it a thing? It messed with her head in the best way.

Crap day at work. Not a disaster, just the usual grind. She sat on the steps outside, phone facedown, looking like she wanted to disappear into the concrete.

You didn’t ask.

You just sat beside her.

Cracked open a Coke, handed it over. Fingers brushed. Hot.

She took the Coke without looking at you.

“This job’s a lot sometimes,” she muttered, voice rough as sandpaper.

You just nodded.

Stayed quiet. Stayed there.

That moment stuck.

Still, in a world that never was.

Melissa had gone so long without feeling wanted — not needed, not tolerated, wanted — she forgot what it was even supposed to feel like.

Then you showed up.

Chill. Steady.

Nice without being fake. Confident without being a dick.

You looked at her like you saw her — and weren’t in a rush about it.

And that? That ruined her in the best way.

You kissed her first.

Of course you did.

She wanted it so bad her teeth hurt.

You just leaned in and took it — no hesitation, no bullshit.

A kiss that said I’m yours if you want me. I’ll still be here if you don’t.

She kissed you back hard enough to bruise.

That night, she dragged you inside her place.

Gripped your hoodie, yanked it off.

Rough hands under your shirt, scraping your ribs, leaving bruises she wouldn’t apologize for.

But her eyes?

Her eyes told the truth:

Not just want — hunger. Need. Terror.

You kissed her like you had time to ruin her.

And you did.

You shoved her onto the couch, mouth claiming her jaw, her throat.

Her breathing went ragged — short little gasps, fighting herself and losing.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” she rasped, hips jerking up against you without shame.

You didn’t.

Your hand slid under her shirt, fingers dragging across hot, tense skin.

She flinched — reflex — but grabbed at you instead, desperate.

You kissed a line down her stomach, pushing her shirt up, memorizing every scar, every freckle with your mouth.

She squirmed under you, half-frustrated, half wrecked already.

You nuzzled just under her bra, your breath hot enough to burn.

“Been a while?” you teased against her skin.

A dark laugh broke from her. “Been a while since anyone knew what the fuck they were doing.”

You grinned.

“Lucky for you, I do.”

Her jeans came off slow.

You kissed every new inch of skin, made her feel it, made her watch.

By the time you reached the soaked cotton of her panties, she was trembling.

Hot. Slick. Ruined for you.

You pressed your fingers against her — slow, firm.

A low, guttural moan tore from her.

Her thighs twitched.

“Jesus Christ, look at you,” you murmured, voice thick. “So fucking wet already. All for me?”

She tried to glare. Tried to act tough.

Failed miserably.

You slid your hand into her panties, fingers slick with her.

When you finally pushed two fingers inside — slow, deep — she gasped like you’d knocked the air from her lungs.

“Fuck,” she hissed, clenching around you.

You set a rhythm: hard, slow, deep enough she saw stars.

Your thumb circled her clit, steady, relentless, while she writhed under you.

“You’re gorgeous like this,” you rasped against her ear.

“Fucking wrecked for me.”

She whimpered — whimpered — and it damn near broke you.

“Don’t stop,” she gasped, nails digging into your arm. “Right there — right fucking there —

You pressed your forehead to hers, locked eyes, and fucked her through it.

Every twitch, every gasp, every choked-off moan.

You didn’t stop when her thighs clamped around you.

Didn’t stop when she started babbling your name under her breath.

“Give it to me, baby. C’mon. I want all of it.”

When she came, it was messy.

Loud. Raw.

She fell apart in your arms, body shaking, cunt clenching around your fingers like she couldn’t bear to let you go.

But you weren’t done.

You kissed down her stomach, hooked her panties off completely, and kept going.

You licked a long, slow stripe through her folds, savoring her.

Melissa sobbed your name.

You didn’t give her mercy.

You flicked your tongue over her clit — sharp, relentless — while two fingers filled her again, dirty and perfect.

She bucked under you, overwhelmed, trying to escape.

You grabbed her hips, pinned her down.

“Take it,” you growled against her. “You can take it. You’re doing so good for me.”

She shattered again — harder, rougher — fists yanking at your hair, legs kicking, body jerking like she couldn’t survive it.

Afterward, she collapsed against you, trembling, her head buried against your chest.

“Fuck,” she croaked, voice wrecked. “Didn’t know it could feel like that.”

You kissed her temple, her jaw, her swollen lips.

“Get used to it, baby,” you whispered.

“You’re not getting rid of me.”

[nyghtwolf]

Me: Ok. I'm going to just write fluff. PURE. FLUFF. It's going to be really cute. It's gonna finally get to the part I was excited about & Nyght & Amir are gonna live happily ever after.

Gremlin Energy Me: Draw it out.

Me: ..What?

Gremlin Energy Me: You want to write more, right? I need conflict. I need resolution.

Me: N-No please.. just flu--

Gremlin Energy Me: He's gonna fuck up their mental state by accident just before he plans to propose

Me: CAN YOU NO--

Gremlin Energy Me: Try to kill him again

Me: PLEASE STO--

Gremlin Energy Me: THEN have him propose in the cutest way possible & write rampant smut

Me: ..... Gremlin Energy Me: .....

Me: ..jesus christ fine. It's a good idea.

(A week later)

Me: ..And that's why I'm entirely rewriting volume 3 of my fanfiction :D

[couldawouldashoulda50]

Does loren go to any of the playoff games? (:

Oh, yes, she's absolutely there. It's a funny thing between them—that she often forgets the “who” that William is: the rather famous, long-tenured player on the Toronto Maple Leafs. And he, in turn, forgets the “what” that Loren is: a longtime fan of the team.

That duality enhances and alters how they move around each other, especially this time of year. He’s a touch more controlled—not in a cold way, but focused. Locked in. She gets it. She’s busy enough herself that he has the space if he needs more of it—but most of the time, she’s getting a sweet little text. Almost a sext, really. Just a casual “you coming back tonight?” with his usual heart-on-fire emoji that makes her smile in the middle of whatever she’s doing.

With this being her first playoff series as his significant other, the main topic (outside of either team and all the scenarios of possible outcomes) are the WAG jackets. She nearly collapsed with absolute giddiness when hers first arrived - and when she modeled it for herself, she swore the past year plus flashed before her eyes. She had to centre herself again - her cheeks burning with sheer awe of seeing herself in that jacket as she giggled and covered her face with her hands.

Jesus Christ, Loren....really....what the fuck she thought as she chuckled at herself.

When William asked to see it on her, she was legitimately beyond fucking nervous. She stepped out of the closet - just a pair of jeans, a light t-shirt and the jacket with his name on it.

With her neck all hot and blotchy from her nerves, William's smile bloomed across his face. He never even had to say how she looked in it - she felt it, the way he looked at her, brought her in close against him and kissed all the hot spots on her throat.

The jacket was a big deal to both of them. So much so that Loren asked if she could forego wearing it in public and keep it strictly for his eyes only.

William didn’t even hesitate. He just smiled and kissed her lips softly. He understood what she meant and he appreciated the spirit of what she was saying.

To her, some things weren’t meant to be seen by everyone.

Instead, she dabbed on his cologne right where the pendant he gave her rested—a small white gold 88 from when they clinched the Atlantic Division, with a floating sapphire in the top of each eight and a diamond at the bottom. She kissed it softly as he stepped out for warmups for Game One. It became her little ritual during the moments where she hoped he'd feel the energy and the vibes from the entire fanbase circling around him and the team.

The first game of the series, she sat in the upper reds with her parents. Her mom nearly pulled her arm off with the first goal. Loren thought for sure her mom was going to pass out with Mitch's breakaway goal. Her mom screamed until she was almost hoarse after JT's goal, assisted by William.

Then seconds after a face-off, Loren and her mother grasped onto each other as William quickly shot it on net and scored, making it 4-1.

Sylvain simply beamed. But when he saw William in the midst of a scrum, while watching his wife go feral and his daughter's expression a mix of lustful admiration tinged with worry, he felt a deep pride for William for sticking up for his teammate.

Game Two was just as exciting—maybe even more so, as her date was none other than Gary. She had secured the accessible ticket long ago and surprised him one evening when she stopped in on her way home from William’s. Her shifts had become more sporadic, and Gary had definitely felt the effects of the long, dark, snow-heavy winter - all without seeing his favourite worker as frequently.

Gary certainly would have been disappointed had the Leafs not won in OT, but he had loved every moment of the game, impressing Loren with a barrage of new chirps for Brady Tkachuk and his team.

It wasn't long after dropping Gary off safe and sound that Loren received a sweet little text from William asking if she could come back to his that night, despite the time, while promising to let her sleep in if she did.

She smiled - how could she not go back.

It's William fucking Nylander.

She could sleep when she's dead.

[willowcrowned]

man it’s so weird that people are always at their most incompetent and deserving of ire when I have to wake up at 6:30 AM. surely this is a strange coincidence that is 100% their fault and not because I didn’t sleep enough

[spitblaze]

I guess Chilchuck has brought us right back to 'adults who are short are child-coded and if you like them you're a pedophile' discourse huh

[lucabyte]

Yeah, that about sums it up.

[anyfire]

jeff sadecki loves to be like Ugh my bitch wife has been so paranoid and high strung ever since she killed the guy she thought was blackmailing her friends over the stuff they did during the 19 months they spent stranded in the canadian wilderness. Something that has nothing to do with me at all