#and nat isn't that valued

[vevobly]

Yellowjackets Reactions To Clingy Reader!

Jackie Taylor:

Jackie would be flattered at first, just absolutely enjoying the attention you're giving her and basking in the idea that someone values her that much. She'd just casually lean into it, and be all playful with you.

“Wow, you really missed me even though I was only gone for five minutes?”

But if your clinginess ever became too much, she'd lowkey try creating space from you; using excuses like needing to focus on something else. She wouldn't want to hurt your feelings and would try hard to soften any pushback with reassurance.

“You're sweet, really. Just, like, give me a little room to breathe, okay?”

Shauna Shipman:

Shauna would be a little awkward about it, unsure how to handle someone being so attached to her. But she'd tolerate it to an extent, especially if it seemed like genuine affection to her; making jokes about it eventually and easing tension.

“You really don't have to follow me everywhere, you know”

She'd say that with a small laugh. Despite her discomfort, she wouldn't be that harsh. And if you just happened to be one of the lucky people, she might secretly find it endearing that someone values her that much.

Taissa Turner:

Taissa would definetely take it in stride, appreciating you being loyal and close to her that way. She's naturally protective, so she might view your clinginess in a way as you trusting and feeling safe around her.

However, if it started interfering with her personal space or responsibilities, Tai would address it immediately and directly but kindly with you. She'd be firm, and understanding!

“Hey, I love hanging out with you, but I need to focus on this right now, okay? We can catch up later.”

Van Palmer:

Van would be amused by your clinginess, she wouldn't take it too serious and would probably even tease you with a grin about it every once in a while. She wouldn't mind the extra attention as long as it isn't constant.

“Wow, didn't know I was that amazing”

She'd probably find it cute that someone cares that much. But if it ever became too much? she'd probably nudge you gently toward independence like a mother would with her own clingy child.

“You know, I'm not going anywhere. You can chill for a bit.”

Natalie Scatorrcio:

Natalie definitely might have been caught off guard by your clinginess at first because she's not used to people being so openly attached to her that way, but she would just brush it off.

Over time, she would eventually warm up to it, seeing it as your way of showing affection to her. Of course, if it ever crossed a line, Nat would be straightforward about it with you. It'll be short and cool.

“Hey, I need some space right now, okay? Nothing personal.”

Lottie Matthews:

Lottie would handle your clinginess with an odd calmness and grace. Similarly to Tai, she'd see this as a sign of you trusting and valuing her. This would mean a lot to her despite what you think, and she'd hold it on a very high careful pedestal.

Lottie might even encourage your clinginess to some degree, just offering reassurance whenever you seem worried or needy. But if it starts to overwhelm her, expect her to guide you on being more self-reliant and practicing boundaries!

“It's okay, I'm here.”

Laura Lee:

Laura Lee would see your clinginess as a sign of you seeing her as someone comforting, which she'd take as a compliment. She'd be patient and kind with you, being very understanding and even encouraging a bit.

If it started becoming too much, she's addressing it like a therapist would with their patient. She'll suggest much "healthier" ways to spend time together without you being overly attached to her.

“I'm glad you feel comfortable with me, but..”

Misty Quigley:

Misty would absolutely just love your clinginess. Considering she thrives on attention and validation, having you attached to her makes her feel pretty special and valued.

“Oh, you don't have to apologize for wanting to be around me all the time!”

Out of all the girls, she would be the one to encourage it fully more. But her enthusiasm might turn possessive if she even slightly felt like you weren't as clingy to her anymore. So, expect the girl to work harder to keep your attention on her!

[natsaffection]

I’m sorry if this is too much to ask

I recently went through a breakup with my girlfriend (recently as in last night) and I need some Natty fluff and comfort. For an idea reader and nat are bestfriends and have been through S.H.I.E.L.D for many years before Nat was promoted to an Avenger and reader was left behind as an agent.

Reader broke up with their relationship a day before Nat got home from a mission(clarification that nat n reader share apartments) injured and its just the two worrying about eachother to mindlessly cuddle and comfort eachother.

could add in soft sex for plot but ill let you decide the rest 😞✊

Held Together. | N.R

Warnings: friends brake up, injury

Word count: 2,3k

A/n: Hey you. I know this isn't going to help you much, and I definitely want to lend you my ear if you ever want to talk about things like this. I know how it feels, and I also know that saying it will get better doesn't exactly help. So please don't hesitate to write to me. 🩵

The first time you saw Natasha, you were both in the S.H.I.E.L.D. training facility, hidden deep within the confines of a classified location. The facility was stark, all concrete walls and fluorescent lighting, with the faint scent of sweat and determination lingering in the air. You were new, just another recruit with a mysterious past, handpicked for reasons that weren't fully explained to you. But then again, secrecy was the foundation of S.H.I.E.L.D., and you had learned quickly that questions were often better left unasked.

Natasha stood out immediately. Not just because of her striking red hair, which seemed to catch the light even in the dullest corners of the room, but because of the aura of quiet confidence she exuded. She moved with a precision that spoke of years of experience, each step deliberate, each movement economical. It was clear that she was in a league of her own. But it wasn’t her skill that drew you to her, it was the look in her eyes. Beneath the stoic mask, there was a flicker of something familiar, something you recognized in yourself. The guarded pain of someone who had seen too much, too soon. The training sessions were brutal. S.H.I.E.L.D. didn’t coddle its recruits, and you were pushed to your limits, physically and mentally. But every time you faltered, Natasha was there, a silent presence at your side, pushing you to keep going. She wasn’t the type to offer comforting words or a reassuring pat on the back, but her actions spoke louder than any words could. She trained with you, sparred with you, and when you were both covered in bruises and gasping for breath, she would sit with you in the quiet moments, a rare smile tugging at her lips.

Over time, what began as mutual respect grew into something deeper. You found yourself seeking her out, not just in training but outside of it. Late nights in the common room, nursing cups of coffee and talking about everything and nothing at all. You learned that Natasha wasn’t just a hardened spy. She was fiercely intelligent, with a dry wit that could cut through any tension. She had a past that she kept close to the vest, but in those quiet moments, she would let slip little pieces of herself, and you would do the same. It was during one of those late-night conversations that you both discovered just how much you had in common. You shared a dark sense of humor, born from lives that had demanded you grow up too fast. You both knew what it was like to be used as a tool, to have your choices stripped away, and to fight tooth and nail to reclaim some semblance of control.

The turning point in your friendship came during a mission in Prague. You had been sent in as backup for Natasha, who was deep undercover, trying to extract a high-value target from an enemy compound. The mission had gone south, bad intel, compromised routes, everything that could go wrong did. Natasha was pinned down, outgunned and outnumbered, and for a brief, heart-stopping moment, you thought you might lose her. But you didn’t hesitate. You stormed the compound, using every skill you had learned, every lesson drilled into you during those grueling training sessions. You fought your way to her, the two of you battling side by side, back to back, until you managed to extract the target and make your escape.

When you were safely back at the extraction point, covered in dust and blood, Natasha had turned to you, her eyes fierce with a mix of adrenaline and gratitude. She didn’t say anything, but the look she gave you was all you needed. From that moment on, you were partners in every sense of the word. There was an unspoken understanding between you..a bond forged in the heat of battle, one that neither of you questioned. Over the years, that bond only grew stronger. You became the team that everyone wanted on their mission, the pair that could get the job done no matter the odds. You were the calm to her storm, the steady hand that balanced her fierce determination. And she was your anchor, the one person you knew you could rely on, no matter what.

But it wasn’t all about the missions. There were moments of light in the darkness inside jokes that no one else understood, late-night movies when you both should have been sleeping, and the kind of trust that only came from knowing someone inside and out. You knew her favorite coffee order, the songs she hummed when she thought no one was listening, and the way she always checked her weapons twice before a mission, even when she didn’t need to. And she knew you, knew the nightmares that woke you in the middle of the night, the reason you kept your distance from most people, and the way you always carried that one memento from your past, a small token of a life you barely remembered. She never pushed, never pried, but her presence was a constant reassurance, a reminder that you weren’t alone in this world.

Then came the day when everything shifted. Natasha was summoned to Nick office a meeting that would change the course of both your lives. When she emerged, she looked different, as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders, but there was something else too a distance, a sense of something slipping away. She told you about the Avengers, about the offer Fury had made. You could see the excitement in her eyes, the way her posture straightened as she spoke about it. And why wouldn’t she be excited? It was a chance to be part of something bigger, something that could change the world. You listened, nodded in all the right places, and when she asked what you thought, you plastered on a smile and told her how proud you were.

But inside, your heart ached. You knew that things would never be the same. You didn’t want to hold her back, didn’t want to be the reason she missed out on something extraordinary, but the thought of losing the connection you shared filled you with a dread you couldn’t shake. And slowly, that fear began to materialize.

As Natasha got more involved with the Avengers, the calls became less frequent, the visits even more so. You found yourself spending more time alone, throwing yourself into missions to drown out the loneliness. The once unbreakable bond you shared felt like it was fraying, the threads pulling apart one by one. The more you tried to reach out, the more distant she seemed, until one day, you realized that the Natasha you knew was almost a stranger to you now. She had new friends, new responsibilities, a new life. And where you once stood side by side, you were now watching from the sidelines, unsure of where you fit in her world anymore.

But the memories remained. Every time you walked past the training room, you could almost hear the echoes of your past conversations, the laughter that once filled the empty spaces. The ghost of what you had once had lingered, haunting you in the quiet moments. You didn’t know what the future held for you and Natasha, but one thing was certain: the bond you had shared was changing, evolving into something you couldn’t yet understand. And as much as it hurt, you knew that you had to find your place in this new reality, even if it meant doing it without her by your side.

The apartment felt too quiet, the silence oppressive as you sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the empty walls. Your things were mostly packed, boxes lining the hallway, and the last remnants of your life here waiting to be sealed up and carried away. You had made your decision the day before, the weight of it still sitting heavily in your chest.

You had ended it. Ended the friendship, the partnership, the life you had built with Natasha. The pain of watching her drift further away into her new life as an Avenger had become too much to bear. Every day had been a reminder of how much you were losing her, and it had finally reached a breaking point. You couldn’t stand being the one left behind anymore, always wondering when or if things would go back to the way they were. So, you had left a note on the kitchen table, explaining as best you could, trying to make her understand why you needed to leave, why you couldn’t keep living in the shadow of her new world. You couldn’t bring yourself to say it to her face, not after everything you’d been through together, so you had written the words, packed your things, and left the apartment.

But now, sitting in the empty space you once called home, the reality of what you’d done settled in, and it hurt more than you could have imagined. You didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to give up on what you had with Natasha, but you didn’t see any other way to protect your heart from breaking further. It was supposed to be simple. You would leave, and Natasha would come back to an empty apartment, read the note, and understand. She’d move on, and so would you. That was the plan.

Except plans never go the way you expect them to.

The sound of the front door creaking open jolted you from your thoughts. Your heart stopped as you heard footsteps heavy, uneven. Natasha was back. You weren’t supposed to be here. You were supposed to be gone, far away, already beginning the process of moving on. But you couldn’t bring yourself to leave. Not yet. You stood up, feeling your heart race as you heard Natasha’s familiar footsteps drawing closer. When she finally appeared in the doorway, your breath caught in your throat. She looked exhausted, her skin pale, and there was a grimace on her face that she couldn’t quite hide.

But what really terrified you was the blood on her jacket and the way she was cradling her side as if trying to hold herself together. “Natasha..” you whispered, the word barely audible as the shock of seeing her like this hit you. Her eyes flicked up to meet yours, and for a moment, she just stared, as if trying to process that you were really there. “Y/n..?”

“You’re hurt.” you said, your voice trembling as you took a closer look. "It’s not as bad as it looks..” she replied, trying to offer a reassuring smile, but it faltered as she winced in pain. “Stop pretending.” you snapped, though your voice was laced more with worry than anger. “Why didn’t you go to the medbay?”

Natasha shook her head, letting out a strained sigh “I just..needed to come home.” she said softly, her eyes flickering around the room, taking in the packed boxes, the half-empty closet. “I thought you would be gone..?” The words hung in the air between you, heavy and filled with the tension of everything that had happened, everything that hadn’t been said.

“I was supposed to be..” you admitted. “Come here, let me help you with that.” She didn’t resist as you guided her to the bed, her breaths coming in shallow gasps as she tried to stay composed. You carefully unzipped her jacket, wincing at the sight of the blood-soaked bandages underneath. It wasn’t the worst injury you’d seen her with, but it was bad enough to make your hands shake as you reached for the first aid kit. She winced as you peeled the blood-soaked fabric away, revealing a nasty gash along her side. It wasn’t life-threatening, but it was deep enough to require stitches.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?” you asked, your voice thick with emotion as you began to clean the wound, trying to keep your hands steady. “I didn’t want you to worry..” Natasha replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I guess that plan didn’t work out too well.”

“Damn it, Natasha..” you muttered, blinking back tears as you worked. “You can’t just..you can’t just keep doing this. Keeping things from me. Pushing me away.”

“I wasn’t trying to push you away.” she said, her voice breaking slightly. “I just..I didn’t know how to handle all of this. You, the Avengers, everything. I thought I could balance it all, but I was wrong.” You paused, your breath hitching as the weight of her words settled over you. “Nat-” you started, but she cut you off.

“I read your note.” she said, her eyes glistening as she looked down at you. “I know why you left, and I can’t blame you. I’ve been so caught up in everything else that I forgot about the one person who’s always been there for me. And now I’m scared I’ve lost you.” Tears slipped down your cheeks as you finished dressing her wound, your hands lingering on her skin for a moment longer than necessary. “You haven’t lost me.” you whispered, your voice shaking. “But I can’t keep living like this, Natasha. It’s tearing me apart..”

She reached out, her hand trembling as she cupped your cheek, her thumb brushing away your tears. “I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice breaking. “I never wanted to hurt you.” You leaned into her touch, closing your eyes as the warmth of her hand seeped into your skin. “I know.” you whispered. “But things have to change. We can’t keep going like this.”

Natasha nodded, her own tears spilling over as she pulled you into a gentle embrace, her arms wrapping around you as if she was afraid to let go. You buried your face in her shoulder, the scent of her familiar, comforting even through the layers of blood and sweat. You both held on to each other as if it was the only thing keeping you grounded, the only thing keeping you from falling apart. For a long time, neither of you spoke. The silence was filled with the sound of your combined breaths, the rise and fall of your chests in sync, the steady beat of her heart against your ear. “I don’t want to lose you..” you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of everything you hadn’t said.

“You won’t.” she promised, her voice filled with quiet determination. “I won’t let you.” There was a moment of silence, thick with unspoken emotions, and then, before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned in, pressing your lips softly to hers. The kiss was tender, hesitant, as if you were both afraid to break the fragile connection between you. But the moment your lips met, it was like something inside you both clicked into place, the distance and the pain melting away, replaced by the familiar warmth of being with each other. Natasha kissed you back, her lips moving slowly, carefully, as if savoring the moment. When you finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against hers, your breaths mingling in the small space between you.

“I’m sorry..” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Shh..” Natasha murmured, her hand moving to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. “We’ll figure it out.” You nodded, unable to speak as you felt the tears slipping down your cheeks. Natasha gently wiped them away, her touch so soft it made your heart ache. You didn’t know what the future held for you both, but in this moment, with her arms around you and her lips still tingling from the kiss, you felt a glimmer of hope.

Carefully, you helped her lie down on the bed, her head resting on the pillow as you pulled the blanket over her. But before you could move away, Natasha caught your hand, her grip surprisingly strong despite her exhaustion. “Stay with me.” she whispered, her eyes pleading. You nodded, your heart swelling with emotion as you crawled into bed beside her. Natasha immediately curled into you, her head resting on your chest, her arm draped over your waist. You wrapped your arms around her, holding her close, as if you were afraid she might slip away if you let go.

The two of you lay there in silence, the only sound the soft rhythm of your breathing and the steady beat of your hearts. The tension, the hurt, the fear..it all seemed to fade away as you held each other, the warmth of her body against yours a balm to the wounds that had been festering between you for so long. You pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, your fingers gently stroking her hair as she sighed contentedly against you. “I love you, Nat..” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “I love you too.” she murmured, her voice filled with so much tenderness it made your heart ache. You tightened your hold on her, burying your face in her hair as you let the weight of the day finally slip away. For the first time in a long time, you felt a sense of peace, a sense of hope that maybe, just maybe, you could find your way back to each other. And as you both drifted off to sleep, wrapped up in each other’s arms, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together.

[caws5749]

Nat and reader getting into a heated argument about where they are in the relationship and reader breaks up with Nat, leaving Nat to decide what she wants (getting over her trauma etc) and coming back to reader

LOVING THE CRAZINESS ALREADY

A/N: THIS IS LATE BUT IM DRINKING A BEER AT 230AM AFTER WORK SO DOES IT COUNT AS DWN?????

Promoting: Nothing currently, I took a break this week from fanfic night as I am a tired soul

++++++

She wouldn't define it. Your relationship.

For a few months, you'd understood. Your lifestyles were beyond complicated and unpredictable. And making a relationship official could be dangerous in your line of work. But then you'd seen Steve with Sharon and Tony with Pepper and you couldn't understand why you had to be different.

And so you'd asked.

"Natasha, what are we?"

"We are in bed, detka, together. We care about each other. Isn't that enough?"

You'd valued her, loved her, so much that it was.

And maybe you should have been more forthcoming with what you wanted. But in all other aspects, she was unbelievably right for you.

Natasha Romanoff understood you better than anyone else on the planet, or the universe for that matter, including yourself. She knew what you wanted before you asked, what drove you mad, what you cared most about. She was protective of you, soothed you when you were anxious, and made you all around a better person. Except for that one little part about her not calling you hers.

Eight months in, you simply were unsure what to do. All you knew was that you couldn't keep doing this.

"What's the matter, lyubov moya?" Natasha's gentle voice asked, pulling you from your thoughts as you donned an earring at the vanity.

"Nothing," you replied, forcing a smile. Her eyes narrowed, but she didn't say anything. You weren't quite sure what she was thinking, and you were beginning to not care.

The two of you finished getting ready and headed out to dinner. It was a windy, stormy night in October- what normally would have elevated your mood. The restaurant was one of your favorites, but you were hardly hungry. It didn't matter that her hand was on your back, a move of protection and comfort you normally loved. It didn't matter that several people on the sidewalk had commented that you were a lovely couple. Because you weren't, not to Nat.

Upon entering, you weren't quite sure what had happened. You weren't sure what on earth prompted her to say it, or perhaps it was the universe's way of pushing you over the edge.

"My friend and I have a reserv-"

She didn't even get to finish her sentence, you were out the door, the feeling of her hand on your back simply a phantom sensation. The timing was perfect, really, thunder boomed loudly and lightning lit up the sky. You'd barely made it ten feet before it started pouring.

"Y/N!"

You kept walking. You couldn't stop, you wouldn't stop.

"Y/N, please- I-"

You turned, seething, hair plastered to your skin, dress clinging to you like a second skin. "You what?" you breathed, chest heaving.

"I- I didn't mean to-"

"Didn't mean to? Didn't mean to what- tell them we're not a couple? Because we certainly aren't, you have made that abundantly clear. Clear for the last eight goddamn months, Natasha! I won't do it anymore!"

You stopped for a breath, pure terror and regret on the woman's face standing across from you.

"Please," she begged quietly. You'd never heard her sound quite so... small. But whatever was holding her back from you, it wasn't enough.

"We're done. Whatever the hell we even are, whatever it is we've been doing, it's done."

++++++

You hadn't really seen her, funnily enough. Perhaps the timing of it all was another gift from the universe. Natasha had disappeared after the signing of the Accords and you had ended up breaking some of your teammates out of the Raft.

When she showed up at your door in the compound one evening, red hair redder than the last time you'd seen it, you weren't surprised. But you were certainly guarded.

"I love you. I'm not standing here to get you back, I wouldn't put you in that position," she began, eyes shining with truth, confidence, and adoration. "I was terrified of a relationship, of you. I thought I was weak, to want something so... human. I was scared to love you, scared of not being right for you, of being a danger to you. I could not have been more wrong. Tearing the Red Room down, facing my past, it made me realize that there is a strength t all of those things. I never stopped loving you. I never stopped wanting everything with you. And I am sorry." With that final declaration, she turned to leave.

And goddamn it, you simply couldn't let her.

"You are right for me," you said softly, stopping her in her tracks. You'd never associate her with anything other than graceful, yet the way she halted was almost too human for her. "You always were, Natasha."

She stood, staring at you in disbelief and confusion, mixed with a bit of hope.

"You can start by taking me out to dinner," you chuckled. She let that familiar perfect smirk grace her lips, before she grew serious.

"Even if we take it slow, know that you are mine. I have no intention of ever letting anyone believe otherwise."

[maxislvt]

Sink Your Teeth In

pairing(s): vampire!natasha romanoff x werewolf!reader

summary: Vampires and werewolves were known enemies, but Natasha is more than willing to change that. Even if it's just for one night.

warning: amab!reader, blowjobs, sub!reader, slight dubcon

a/n: ummm nat gives the best head case closed

Event Masterlist

Werewolves and vampires were always at odds with each other. Not a thousand years could go by without vampires attacking werewolves or werewolves attacking vampires. It was all the same bloodline ending bullshit. 'Your father killed mine and now I must kill you!' over and over again. Some of those fathers weren't even worth killing anyone over. It was truly a shame that no one could see how compatible the two factions were. Vampires were strict, organized people that valued loyalty above all else. Werewolves were nothing short of loyal and obedient, you just had to train them. Natasha was so close to finding the perfect werewolf for her to prove that. 

Natasha had tried many times to tame a werewolf, but she'd run into a number of problems. They could be taught, but not many of them were willing to learn— especially not from a vampire. As disappointing as it was, it wasn't exactly a shock. A millennium long feuds were rarely ever one sided. Her previous attempts were also foiled by pride, shame, and simply being too boring to have any real fun.

So, Natasha spent another Friday night on the prowl.

Club Sonar was a rather interesting place. A tall building in the middle of nowhere buzzing with all forms of life. Monsters from all over the globe came together under the moon just to party. It was a messy place. The music was loud, bodies grinded against each other without a care, and secrets of all kinds were shared over the strongest alcohol. Though cultures mixed, money did not. 

Each floor of the bar was more expensive than the last. The alcohol got smoother, the music got slower, and the floors actually got cleaned. Upper floors were for people who supported the cause but had no interest in getting dirty. Natasha had more than enough money to sit at the top floor, but that wasn't any fun. She'd never find what she was looking for if she stayed up there. 

Werewolves were just as wealthy as vampires, but they were rowdy. They liked to play rough and get dirty. Big fancy houses just didn't appeal to them as much. Fancy clubs appealed to them even less. Natasha wasn't looking to tame someone — not to say her hand couldn't be forced — she was looking for someone soft and easy to mold. 

You weren't the easiest to find. Despite your size, the people on the dancefloor had no trouble pushing you around. You kept your head down no matter where you went. Natasha could tell you weren't there on your own, which made it harder to take you home. Not too hard though.

"This really isn't your scene," she said when she took the bar stool next to you. It was hard to keep her eyes in the right place. Your shyness was adorable, but there was no denying what she was really feeling. 

You looked around to make sure she was actually talking to you.  Though you weren't opposed to the conversation, it was hard to believe such a pretty woman had approached you. "Um, no. My friends wanted to come here. I mean it's cool just…couldn't we have a library or something? There's no point in intermingling if you're too drunk to remember what you're kissing."

Natasha laughed and scooted closer to you. "I guess you're right, but there's no shame in being curious. Right?" She looked at the glass in front of you. "Oh, that just won't do." Before you could interject, she tapped the countertop twice and brought over the bartender. It was a quick exchange, you didn't even see Natasha pull out any cash. Despite your confusion, you didn't put up a fight. You were exactly what Natasha was looking for. 

Guilt filled your eyes when you looked down at the fresh cocktail in front of you. Was it more rude to let it go to waste or ask the bartender for a refund? "Oh, you really didn't have to do that." Your hands hesitantly wrapped around the glass before taking a sip of the alcohol. The burn hit you immediately, but you tried to play it off. You tensed up to hold in the coughing fit building up in your chest. "It's…great, thanks," you forced out through a tight chest. 

Natasha gave you a firm pat on the back to force you to cough. She took away the glass and slid this towards you. "I would expect a werewolf to have a stronger alcohol tolerance," she said teasingly. Her hand stayed on your back even after your coughing had subsided. 

You shook your head. "A lot of us have sensitive pallets. I can taste whatever crappy oak barrel they made this in." There was an unexpected comfort in the way she touched you. "I should have asked this earlier, but what's your name?" You sat up straight as her hand moved down your back. You never really paid attention to your posture, but you had the strange urge to be better around her. 

"My name's Natasha, but you can call me Nat if you want. What's yours?"

"My name is Y/N. I don't really have a nickname, but whatever you come up with is fine." 

The conversation continued without trouble. Natasha seemed so enamored with how strong your pallet was. At the expense of Natasha's wallet and your sobriety, you had tasted just about every drink the bar had to offer. Eventually, you settled on just drinking strawberry daiquiris while you two talked. 

Natasha pulled your seat closer to her and she leaned down to whisper in your ear. "So how many more of those little smoothies do I have to buy to take you home with me?" Her hand slid up your thigh and gave it a firm squeeze. She could feel your dick twitching already. "I promise I'll only bite where it feels good."

You practically jumped out of your skin when Natasha kissed your neck. It was quick, but you could feel the pointed tips of her fangs brush against your skin. "Um..Can I finish this one first?" Before Natasha could say anything else you pulled out your phone and texted your friends. 'Leaving with a hot lady, ttyl!' was all you sent before cutting off your phone and downing the last of your drink. 

Natasha adored your enthusiasm. "I promise I'll get you home safe in the morning." She kissed your neck one last time before dragging you outside to her car. It was a good thing she brought her chauffeur along because there was no way she'd be able to keep her hands off you the entire ride home. 

You stumbled behind Natasha as best you could. Vampires were usually weaker than werewolves, but you were a little too tipsy to show your strength. You let Wanda push you into the backseat of her car. One sniff of the air and you could tell someone else was in the car. "You have a chauffeur?" Natasha covered your mouth and pushed you further into the backseat. 

"Home," was all she told the driver before closing the partition and focusing her attention on you. "Yes, but I promise the back of the car is soundproof." It certainly wasn't, but she needed to hear how whiny you could get. Natasha practically pounced on you after she closed the door. The kiss was hot and passionate. Your fangs bumped against hers every time your lips collided. "Can you taste what I drank earlier?" She asked with a giggle. 

A whine escaped your lips when Natasha pulled away. "Um…a lot of vodka and cooper..?" Your answer earned you another kiss. Natasha's lips felt like heaven against yours. She overwhelmed all your senses in the most delicious way possible. You didn't even notice how hard you'd gotten. "You smell…really good." You mumbled in the handful of seconds between kisses. 

She chuckled but didn't respond. You were too cute. "I'm going to make you feel so good tonight." Natasha's kisses moved down the side of your jaw until she reached the base of your neck. Her hands wasted no time undoing your belt and tossing it on the car's floor. One of her fingers circled around the tip of the tent in your pants while she watched you squirm. "You're so sensitive."

You opened your mouth to speak only to be interrupted by a string of cursing and desperate whimpering. "Sorry, I'm just new to all of this," you confessed. It was a little hard to imagine your first time going to a bar would take such a turn. 

"Don't tell me someone as cute as you is still a virgin." Your silence was enough. It was as arousing as it was disappointing. Natasha didn't want to go slow by any means, but the thought of getting to corrupt that innocent little mind of yours was exhilarating. "I promise I'll be extra gentle with your little friend." 

The car parked before Natasha could pull down your boxers. Natasha's lust-driven craze left you in quite an awkward position while waiting for her to unlock the door. Holding your pants up only made your bulge stand out more and there was an obscene amount of lipstick covering your neck. You hoped Natasha wasn't secretly vampire famous or else you'd be in real trouble. 

Natasha pulled you into her home and wasted no time undressing you. Your shoes, shorts, sweater, and T-shirt littered the soft carpet. Natasha had you completely naked by the time she pushed you onto the bed. "You're making a mess already," she whispered seductively as she crawled onto the bed. Her eyes focused on the way your member throbbed and leaked precum. 

Your eyes followed Natasha's as she began stroking your member. It was tortuously slow, but it felt good. A near-pornographic moan fell from your lips as your head tilted back. "Your hands are so soft," you whimpered pathetically. All your willpower went into staying still. You didn't know what to do with yourself. "C-can I touch you too?" You blindly reached out and grabbed the first thing you could feel. Mindlessly, you groped the soft flesh in hopes that it would make Natasha feel good too. Your face burned bright red as she moved your hand to where her breast actually was. “Sorry…I wasn’t looking,” you mumbled. 

Natasha kissed up the underside of your cock before licking all the way down to the base. “A good pup would pay attention to someone making them feel this good.” She waited until you looked down at her. Once she was sure you wouldn’t look away, she swallowed you down to the base. Her cheeks hallowed out as she began sucking you off.

Your hips twitched and your eyelids fluttered, but you tried your best to keep your eyes open. As your orgasm got closer, you found it harder to control yourself. An animalistic growl ripped through your throat as you tried to control yourself. Your fangs forced themselves out of your mouth and your claws had nearly ripped Natasha’s sheets. “W-wait, slow down,” were the only words you could get out before it happened. 

Hot white cum painted the inside of Natasha’s throat as she swallowed down everything you gave her. Natasha didn’t give you a break and continued until you pushed her away. “Is that all you have left?” She blew on your bulbous tip before giving it a kiss.

“N-no, I just…I need a second. That’s all.”

[camaelias]

Sunny Winter Day

CHAPTER 1: The Man Across the Hall CHAPTER 2 - The Winter Soldier Pairing : Grumpy Winter Soldier x Sunshine Reader

Tags : enemies to lovers, angst, slow burn Author's note : Omg, after more than a decade spent on and off this app, I finally mastered the courage to post something! Please be kind, but feel free to give feedback! especially when I make mistakes, English isn't my first language I hope you'll understand ^^ Okay so, here the story : PLOT :In a world still reeling from Hydra’s fall and the Avengers' rise, you are a new recruit—a burst of golden light in a team still learning to trust. You have light powers. They call you sunshine, a little too soft for war, a little too bright for shadows.

You thought you were finally safe. A new world, a new life, a place among the Avengers. But danger doesn’t always knock on the front door — sometimes it smiles from the apartment across the hall. And sometimes, the one sent to destroy you is the only one who might just save you.

- Post-Avengers 1, Pre-Ultron - Steve Rogers and the Winter Soldier have never met before. In this world Bucky Barnes is not yet part of Steve’s memories - Hydra has been publicly dismantled, but in truth, it still thrives in the shadows.

Chapter 3: Whispers in the Walls

The room was cold enough that even the walls seemed to shiver.

A long, black table stretched from one end to the other. Around it sat a dozen men and women, faces sharp, unforgiving. Papers were scattered across the polished surface — files, photographs, a few flickering video feeds showing grainy surveillance footage.

At the head of the table stood Pierce — or the man who wore his face now — fingers steepled under his chin. His voice was low, deadly calm, "The Avengers are too careful. Too well-guarded."

He flipped a tablet toward the center of the table. It skidded across the surface, coming to a stop with your smiling face beaming up at them, caught mid-laugh "but every fortress has its cracks"

A photo of you was slid out, this time with notes were scribbled along the margins:

Overly empathetic.

Unthreatening appearance.

Trusts easily.

High loyalty to team.

Around the table, a few agents smirked. Others simply nodded

"She is soft, predictable, and predictable means controllable " Pierce chuckled as he looked at your pic with a sinister amused smile- this was going to be so easy. He pushed the file toward the far end of the table — to the man standing silently in the corner.

Black tactical gear, combat boots, a metal arm gleaming dully under harsh lights. Blank, glassy blue eyes that betrayed no emotion.

The Soldat.

"Proceed with psychological proximity strategy. Emotional infiltration. Timeframe: undetermined. Do not escalate until full access to Vault-09 is confirmed.”

The screen of the tablet shifted —this time to the schematics of the vault hidden beneath the Avengers Compound.

There were no doors. No passcodes. No override. Only one way in.

Avenger-class biometric sequence, living tissue confirmation, no exceptions, no backdoors. Only someone with Avengers clearance—someone who was trusted enough, valued enough—could get close.

“She’s already on the team,” Pierce continued “Already earning their trust. They see her as something bright, something good... a glorified lightstick if you ask me" He smiled, small and sharp "She doesn’t even need to break, She just needs to let you in, Soldat”

The Winter Soldier didn’t blink, didn’t breathe. He simply nodded once.

--

The Compound

"Alright, let's start from the top," Steve said crossing his arms tightly over his chest. You sat at the long glass conference table, surrounded by the team.

Tony was half-slouched in his chair, spinning a pen through his fingers so fast it was a blur. Nat's gaze flickered between you and Steve, Clint leaned back, chair dangerously tilted on two legs, gum snapping in his mouth every few minutes, and Bruce hovered by the back wall.

You cleared your throat, "He was fast," you started, eyes flickering across the room "Metal arm, masked, had a collection of knives hidden in every pocket.. didn't talk, he didn't make a single sound and he just vanished in the smoke like a damn ghost"

You twisted your fingers together under the table, left out the part where your powers pulled

Tony snorted, tossing his pen onto the table with a sharp clack

"Yeah, sounds about right. Terminator Lite. Wonderful."

"Tony," Steve said warningly, but Tony just threw up his hands

"What? Sorry Cap, but how many times do we have to kill Hydra? Kill one head, two shall appear- oh fuck.off!" Steve sighed loudly, you know he had enough of Hydra as much as Tony did. You, on the other hand, you never really encountered any of their weapons yet. When you joined the Avengers there was only a couple of hiding nests to dismantle, but never super soldiers, never weapons like that.

Tony groaned again as he stood up from his chair, one hand in his pocket and one pinching his nose bridge. Nat raised an eyebrow at Tony but stayed silent, then her eye went back on you as she finally spoke “He didn’t try to kill you”

That made you blink

“He could’ve,” she continued, arms crossed now “The way you described it—he was strong enough, trained enough...but he left?”

“Maybe he was interrupted,” Steve offered “Maybe,” she said, but her expression was thoughtful. Pensive.

You cleared your throat “Could’ve been a recon op. Testing our response time. Our defenses"

Tony sighed and ran a hand through his hair “Or maybe we’re being watched and don’t even know it.”

Steve stepped forward, tapping the screen “What do we know about this ‘weapon’ they were after?”

“We’re still trying to figure that out,” Tony said “All I know is that building was on my list. Hydra-linked, last seen transferring tech from something called Project Uroboros. Not much on the files—just redacted nonsense and words like ‘containment protocol’ and ‘genetic lock.’”

“What kind of lock?” Nat asked

“Something that requires... organic access,” Tony replied slowly “The file mentioned ‘avenger-biometrics authorisation’ Which shouldn’t even exist, by the way"

“So... only an Avenger can open it?” Clint said

Tony nodded

“Great,” Nat muttered “So now we’re keys as well as targets”

You stayed quiet, but the words burrowed under your skin.

Only an Avenger can access it.

And Hydra just tried to steal it.

You could almost hear it, like a whisper at the back of your skull: They think you’re the weak link. They sent him for you.

Steve turned back to you, his voice warm but firm.“You held your ground, Y/N. That’s what matters"

You gave him a small smile “Didn’t really have a choice.”

Tony start pacing back and forward, the bridge of his nose still pinched between his finger. You could see a slight irritation vein pulsing on his forhead. He shook his head in frustrated denial

"I don't know folks, I just think maybe, I don’t know, we should be a little more concerned that Metal Mickey out there is gunning people down and we don't even know what model he is!"

Clint shrugged lazily "Could be worse. Could be two of them"

Bruce's eyes flickered towards the glass door of the briefing room, an exasperated chuckle left his lips "I am afraid it will be worse, Fury is coming"

And before anyone could say more, Fury’s voice rumbled from the doorway.

“Let’s make this quick," he says without preamble, his voice sharp enough to slice through the room. He stands near the head of the table, trench coat flaring slightly as he shifts his weight, posture as stiff and unyielding as always “Effective immediately, you’re getting a new head of security.”

You blink. Clint blinks. Even Steve shifts slightly, frowning deeper.

“Security?” Clint echoes, incredulous “For us?”

Tony throws up both hands "Oh, fantastic. Are we getting babysitters now? Should I go get my crayons and nap mat?" Fury’s eye sharpens into something lethal "You’ll keep your sarcasm to yourself, Stark"

Tony scoffs under his breath, muttering something about “micromanagement at its finest” and you follow him with your eyes as he flops dramatically into a chair, raking a hand through his messy hair. His hoodie bunches awkwardly at the elbows — black, some band logo half-faded. You catch the glint of frustration in his eyes, though. It’s not just sarcasm. He’s angry.

Steve steps forward, calm but firm, a deep frown etching itself between his brows “With all due respect, Director... we can handle ourselves”

"Clearly" Fury’s deadpan doesn’t leave much room for argument. “New threats. New vulnerabilities. You’re a high-value target team. You don’t get to like it — you get to live with it.”

You feel your fingers curl unconsciously against your thigh, tension coiling tight. Something about this— It’s wrong. It smells wrong.

And then the door hisses open.

You hear the footsteps before you even turn. Measured. Heavy. Familiar.

Your heart stumbles once, twice. Your head snaps around instinctively.

Standing just inside the threshold, casual as anything, is your neighbour.

James.

His dark hair is slightly mussed like he ran a hand through it on the way here, and he’s wearing a plain black long-sleeve shirt tucked into tactical pants, leather gloves and combat boots laced tight. His shoulders are broad and straight, posture deceptively relaxed—but you can feel the discipline bleeding from him. His eyes—deep, winter-cold eyes—flicker across the room once, calculating. Landing on you. Lingering.

This must be a joke.

Natasha catches your expression. One arched brow, a knowing tilt of her lips that says, you okay, sunshine?

“Mr James Buchanan Barnes,” Fury announces, oblivious—or uncaring—of the sudden current running through the room. “He’s your new head of security”

Dead silence.

Tony blinks, then leans forward slowly, palms splayed flat on the table. "I’m sorry, did you say Barnes?" He snorts "What, were all the real candidates busy? Is this Bring Your Neighbour to Work Day?"

A chair screeches as he shoves back from the table again, starting to pace, gesturing wildly "This guy—he's what? An army reject? A ‘thank you for your service’ card and a pat on the back? How exactly does this help us?"

James says nothing. Stands perfectly still. Takes it.

You don’t miss the faint tension in his jaw though. The way his hands stay loose at his sides — controlled.

Steve exhales sharply through his nose, stepping closer to Fury “We’re soldiers. We’ve fought gods, aliens, robots. We’re not civilians. We don’t need a—” He bites off the word. Babysitter.

Fury just levels a hard, steady stare at the room "I don’t care if you fought Loki in a tutu. Orders stand. Barnes reports to me. You work with him—or you deal with the consequences"

You glance at James again, heart hammering. Weeks. You’ve been living across the hall from him for weeks.

Was that coincidence? Was any of it?

You almost laugh, a short, disbelieving sound you have to swallow down quickly. Of all people... it's him.

You can feel the unease twisting low in your gut, your light humming just faintly under your skin, your instincts nudging you harder now. But you force yourself to stay still. Smile. Make a good face for a bad game.

Tony claps his hands sarcastically, spinning back to the table "Awesome. Great. Love being outvoted. Democracy's dead anyway"

Clint mutters something under his breath about “spooks running the show,” scratching at his jaw again, the picture of skeptical disinterest. Natasha just watches you, sharp-eyed.

James finally steps forward, slow and unthreatening. His voice when it comes is soft, careful.

“I’m just here to make sure you’re safe,” he says, looking right at you when he says it. Not Steve. Not Tony. You.

You swallow hard. Your hands feel too empty. Your smile feels too tight.

Safe.

Right.

The second Fury dismisses the meeting, you’re out of your chair so fast it scrapes against the floor. You murmur a quick excuse — bathroom, fresh air, whatever — and bolt before anyone can pin you down with concerned looks or worse, questions.

The compound’s hallways feel colder today. Your sneakers squeak faintly on the polished floor as you move quickly, tugging the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your palms, trying to ground yourself.

It’s fine. It’s just a coincidence. You’re overreacting.

You push through the stairwell door and start up the stairs two at a time, heart hammering a wild rhythm against your ribs. The thick silence around you only amplifies the racing of your thoughts. Your building neighbour is now your bodyguard. The man you almost trusted with your spare key last week is now guarding your life.

You press your back against the cool concrete wall and squeeze your eyes shut. You can still feel his gaze—like fingerprints on your skin.

And then — footsteps.

You snap your head up just as James rounds the corner at the landing, casual as anything. He slows when he sees you, tilting his head slightly, a look of almost disarming concern passing over his face

“You left fast," he says, voice low, smooth, almost tentative

"I needed air," you answer too quickly

He stops a few steps away, close enough that you can smell him — that crisp, clean scent you’ve learned to appreciate. He doesn’t close the distance, doesn’t trap you. You dart your eyes past him, searching for an exit. Anywhere. He notices.

"I don't want to cause problems," he says gently "I'm here to help"

You bite your lip, you feel your powers slightly burning your fingertips

"Yeah, sure...it's just... a lot to take in," you say with a shrug that you hope looks casual. James steps closer carefully, giving you plenty of time to move if you want. You’re about to make another excuse to slip away when a new set of footsteps thunder up the stairwell.

You don’t even have to turn to know it’s Steve, you would recognise that heavy determined stomp anywhere

"Y/N," Steve calls, voice clipped, protective

James straightens subtly, squaring his shoulders, but keeps his hands visible, palms loose by his sides. No sudden moves, no hostility.

"Barnes," Steve says, voice all soldier now, stiff and wary. He steps up beside you, close enough that his arm almost brushes yours, "You good?" he murmurs toward you without looking, his posture broadcasting say the word and I’ll remove him

"I’m fine," you answer quickly, voice flickering just a tiny bit

Steve’s jaw tightens, you see the muscle jump near his ear. James meets his gaze, unflinching, respectful

"I was just checking in," James says, polite to the point of almost military deference "Sir"

Sir.

He plays the good soldier so perfectly that even Steve has to hesitate. He studies him for a long, grinding moment — Captain America measuring the unknown variable.

Something unspoken passes between them. Not quite trust. Not quite threat. A truce, maybe.

"I should, um... get ready for training," you mumble, backing up a step.

James gives you a slight nod, that same careful, disarming half-smile on his face.

"I'll see you around"

---- AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hello hello! a few questions for my reader! how is the pacing? too slow? too fast? any ridiculous english mistake? it's my very first time writing something so really looking on ways to improve! hope you enjoyed!

[learningfromlosing]

Yellowjackets Finale: card draw to tarot meanings.

Idk if anyone else did this and I'm late to the party, but I was thinking in the finale about what their card draws could mean.

So I fucking paused and got the cards, looked em up, and this is what I found.

It'll be imperfect, could be scattered, and it might not be complete. Good luck to us both.

Misty - 10 of Hearts - 10 of Cups

10 of Cups in tarot can mean: Happy families, reunions, homecomings, gatherings, stability, harmony, long lasting friendships, achieving your desires. It can also mean trying too hard to achieve them, and when you do get them you find it wasn't what you wanted.

For Misty to have started all this by having that fucking transponder. For her to have been so desperate to be a part of the team. Even as an adult she gets treated as a pest instead of how incredibly reliable, intuitive, loyal, and dedicated she is. She's so hopeful, she's so desperate. After the crash, she saw her opportunities line up one after the other. Coach Ben in a vulnerable position, the girls suddenly seeing her value, seeing the transponder. She took those opportunities by the throat for the hope of a spot in the group. To feel that community. Until seeing what that community turned into.

But she's still able to know what she needs to do to try and make it better. That's all she's ever tried to do. Make it better. To help. Whatever she needs to do to get that community back on its path. She knows she fucked them over. She knows she needs to redeem herself for the sake of everyone involved, even if that means she's no longer in the group she was barely a part of to begin with. For greater good, for the team.

Van - 9 of Diamonds - 9 of Pentacles

9 of Pentacles in tarot can mean: Independence, wisdom, maturity, self reliance, working too hard, deceit, need for caution, feeling trapped, building a life you no longer want but now need to maintain, dependency, a need for discretion.

Van stacking those cards. Van not wanting to stack those cards. Tai convincing her to stack those cards. Tai telling Van she doesn't think they're going to be able to be together after they're rescued. Van knowing if she doesn't stack those cards any one of her friends will be killed, even though they're fixing the phone. Van doesn't want to do harm, she just wants to survive. She doesn't want to lie to her friends, she just wants herself and Tai to make it, she wants them all to make it. Van doesn't want to let the love of her life go. Van can see that Tai is not lying when she says she doesn't know if they can be together after they're rescued. Van can see her time with her dwindling, and is more open to being convinced. She is still, in her heart, hoping Mari will get away. She knows she had her part in building Lottie up into the priestess she is. That too was for survival at a point. But she knows she can't keep letting this happen. Not after the hikers. Not after trying to call her mom. She knows she has to stack the cards in order to put an end to it. She needs to keep playing to finally be able to stop. She of all people knows, the show must go on.

Nat - Ace of Hearts - Ace of Cups

Ace of Cups in tarot can mean: Unrequited love, imbalance in relationships, lack of harmony, withdrawal, pure emotion, love conquers all, trusting your intuition, trusting in your ideals, blocked connection, blocked feelings, disconnected spiritually. Make the best of your opportunities.

Nat has such an unconditional love for the team. She takes beating after beating. She feeds them, she hunts for them, she walks miles for them, she's blamed when there's no food, she's blamed when the coach isn't found, she's blamed when the coach is dead, she's stripped of her title even though she's fucking sweated and fucking bled for it. She never even wanted it. She knew she had to. That was it. She loves them, but they do not love her. Not always, and not ever in the way she needs. She was there every time she was needed. She took the punishment every time she was given one. But she knows when something is wrong, and she knows when something needs to be done. She cannot help but feel IT, but she knows she cannot dwell on it. She must try and keep reality alive. Hope. Rescue. Even if that means she has to carve up bodies, hunt her friends, and be pushed around by those she is saving while she does. She takes her beatings, does the right thing when she sees her chance every time, no matter the risk, no matter the punishment. She knows it needs to be done. She loves them enough to do it even while she's being spat on. She loves them enough to keep a secret that would have you killed and strung up in seconds. She's the leader fighting from the front lines. She's the ace up her own sleeve.

Lottie - Eight of Clubs -

Eight of Wands

The Eight of Wands in tarot can mean: Hastiness, action, exciting times, results, solutions, thinking on your feet, energy rising, being swept off your feet, meetings, bad timing, missed chances, canceled travel, panic, impatience, impulsive, being unable to stay on top of things, gossip is dangerous, everything is going to take shape, insecurity, mental confusion, rapid change, not moving in the right direction, air travel.

Lottie and her wilderness. She embraces it and it lets go of her. She claws desperately to get it back. She was searching for meaning and found it, but it wasn't their salvation. It wasn't their solution. It might have helped them survive, but it won't let them live. It got out of hand, very quickly. She was shown the face of rescue and she forced an axe into the back of its head. You can't miss an opportunity more than that. She thought about going back, and couldn't comprehend how it could be better. How it could go well. How she could be well. This is where she was meant to be, all of them. To her, this is their haven. Where they can be free, finally, away from the rules and constraints of the outside world and all their judgement. But that isn't a vision the rest can stomach anymore, they can't stand it anymore. They're going to work around her if that's what it takes. They'll go behind her back, they'll make her believe the visions were true, they'll make her believe that they believe. If that's what it takes to be free. Lottie even finds herself disappointed when she sees this card, and not the queen of hearts, because deep down, she can't stomach it anymore either. She wants to be taken, just not home.

Tai - Jack of Clubs - Knight/Page of Wands

The Knight/Page of Cups can mean: Hasty, charming, confident, rebellious, brave, taking risks, hot temper, flirt, arrogant, hyper daredevil, overly confident, fearful, abusive, cancelled travel, getting the job done, change of home, level of commitment that isn't what it could be, demands immediate action, burnout, frustration, aggression.

Tai is always the person who thinks she can get a job done until it's time to clock in. And the job is different now, and when Steeve can't hack it, Stephan tags in for her. She knows this. She doesn't need to worry, Stephan will help her get this job done even if no one agrees with the plan of action. Whether it was tripping her lesser teammate so she can't go to nationals, for the good of the team, breaking her bones and shedding blood in the process; or if it means stacking the cards against that team for the greater good. Even if it means it gets fucked up and someone she values is picked instead. She thought it would protect them, but it singled them out and hunted them down instead. Van is the one who can stack the cards, not her. If she wants to be with her this is what she has to do right now. She's willing to take this risk. Even though it wasn't true, Tai had convinced herself they couldn't be together back home. She isn't willing to commit to Van back at home even if it ends badly like other obstacles in her life have, but still, Tai doesn't want to lose Van either. She doesn't just want to stay where they can be together, she demands it. And she'll do whatever she has to to make that happen.

Shauna - Two of Clubs - Two of Wands

The Two of Wands in tarot can mean: Lack of planning, restricted vision, missed opportunities, discontent with achievements, getting what you want and still being unhappy, limited options, staying put, cancelled immigration, sudden reaction, anticlimax. The world is in your hand. Taking a look at your life and questioning your priorities. Having a need to take over with a fiery passion. Hollow success, being closed minded, lacking courage, not wanting to change. Basically, the dictator card.

Shauna, with the world in her hand. Only to feel it biting her. She is fearless, until it comes to looking at the hard truth. The hardest truth of all. The one of herself. She never told Jackie how much pain she was in, she never told Jeff how much guilt she had, she never told Callie how much she loved her, she never told Melissa how much her appreciation meant to her, she never told anyone how she really felt. She never told anyone a truth that was hard for her to tell. Ones that needed to be heard, to be accepted, so she could be accepted. She felt overlooked, underappreciated, undervalued. She is strong, she is fearless, she is powerful; until it means personal growth for the good of everyone involved. She never felt fully loved, because she never felt like she could fully be herself, so she'll never fully love again. She didn't get it, so why should anyone else? She flourished even though she didn't have it, she was a fucking queen, mind you! If she had to take such a long, hard trip around getting what she wanted, to finally be able to have what she needs, then everyone else should too. It builds character! It makes you interesting! It gives you the world! Too bad having and operating the world takes much more planning and foresight than clocking a card trick. She was never able to weigh and measure real value, only what was interesting and what was boring to her personally. She tried to build a world with that, only to realize it was as hollow as she is in that crown. She was willing to put in the work until it came time for her to dig deep within herself and find a genuine compromise. A real sacrifice. But she can't. She's drowning. And she'll take everyone else down with her if they can't save her. If it means taking the world away, just so she could rule these people in her cave, with shadows she conducts, so be it. At least that's a narrative she can control. For now.

Mari - Queen of Hearts - Queen of Cups

The Queen of Cups in tarot can mean: Psychic, loyal, loving at all costs. Someone with your best interest. Someone who overlooks abuse for the sake of love. Obstacles, stupidity. Putting in your best effort. Could mean you deserve better. Loving mother. A woman who can be a friend. Nurturing, serenity, deep compassion. Dependence, overly sensitive. Caution. Constant manipulation.

Mari, the dupe. Mari, the decoy. Mari is constantly showing us that she will lie, she will fake you out, she will juke you. She will fight you, even if it's not the smartest idea. Mari, the scrap. Mari, the defiant. Mari, taking one more chance at that knife before she takes off. Mari, you're gonna get what's coming to you Ibarra. Mari, using her clothes as decoys. Mari, putting herself into positions that aren't well thought out, but are telling of her will to survive. Are telling of her age. Are telling of her personality through and through. Mari, who will love you enough to distract and run from death herself while you make that phone call. While you work on assassinating that dictator. While you win the game. Mari, clawing and biting to find a way to survive. Mari, the teenager who looks for guidance in the dangerous new world she's found herself. Mari, who will follow the ones she believes in. Mari, who changes her mind based on what she believes, not what she's told to believe. Mari, the clown. Mari, the taker and the giver. Mari, the abuser and the victim. Choosing her own fate. Even though she deserved a better one.

[am1dnightdreary]

I know everyone has likely come to the conclusion that Lottie is speaking to Nat's antler queen in s2 when she hallucinates her therapist. But may I present my theory that Lottie was actually talking to Shauna's antler queen?

(s3x06 spoilers under the cut)

In one of Lottie's meetings with the female therapist (or her vision of one) in season 2, she tells her that something primal is reawakening in her like it hasn't before and I think this is referring to the second winter, the one we're about to see. And since Lottie hallucinates the antler queen's final form (aka the antler queen with her face covered and the hair tufts hanging on her white robe), I'm willing to bet she is hallucinating Shauna, who will likely be the last antler queen before they are all rescued.

Lottie has had precedents with needing to speak to the wilderness vicariously through someone else. We see her trying to grip onto Shauna and trying to convince her. When Shauna shuts her out, she turns to Travis and then to Akilah. Anything to feel that connection with the wilderness again, the one she lost late in the first winter. I believe, since the girls in the teen timeline are finally embracing the wilderness and embracing that they are all collectively losing their minds (especially after eating Ben for no reason other than following some sick ritual), we will soon see them completely lose it and reach the second winter, the one that we see in the Pilot episode where Pit Girl is killed.

This is what Lottie was referring too when she said something "ancient and primal" was reawakening within her. She is talking about whatever they became and whatever they did in that second winter.

Now, why do I think she's talking to Shauna. As I've mentioned, I think Shauna will be the last antler queen before they're all rescued (unless Lottie ends up becoming the queen herself) and not only that, but the way the female therapist talks to Lottie at their "last session". She starts saying "Isn't there anything of value in this life that doesn't come with risk? Or loss? Or consequence?" to be followed with "Does a hunt with no violence feed anyone?" Initially, I brushed it off and thought nothing of it, but seeing as s3 Shauna has significantly changed as a person, becoming more uncaring and level headed when it comes to violence, not flinching from blood or from what she thinks has to be done, these could be things that Shauna would say. It's definitely something I don't see Nat saying, not after losing her place as the queen.

I believe that's why adult Lottie was freaking out about these visions, because she was afraid of going back to the person she had become during the second winter and we're already slowly seeing her sanity decaying right now.

[letomills]

Download skins: SFS / Mega

A set of 22 geneticized & townified skins, including defaults for S1-S2-S3-S4 and the alien skin. Credit for the original skins goes to @whysim, Nat / @theboldandthebeautifulsims, @pooklet and Tea Leaf, thank you so much to them!

I did however make substantial tweaks and additions to all skins: • everyone TU-EU has the appropriate fat, normal and fit states (for the alien textures to show up as they should, please use Argon's alien and zombie fitness fix) • all elders have wrinkles, except on the alien skin (I used @simnopke's subtle wrinkles) • all toddlers have the cute toddler teeth and babies have no teeth, • teeth from Nat's, Pooklet's and Tea Leaf's skins were replaced either with ones from the Whysim skins or the ones used on @serabiet's Those Darn Skins, just because they're less bright and I like that better • all skins are compatible with sexyfeet (I just had to cover up a watermark on one of them iirc) • lowered the color temperature on Whysim BuffyHP Tan Skinblend TG (S2).

Complete previews of AU-EU faces and uncensored bodies (fat, normal and fit) are included in the download, which is why it's such a large archive (the skins themselves aren't particularly heavy, don't worry). Teens get the same textures as adults; children, toddler and babies have their own.

More details below.

Skins and links to the originals:

Whysim Misc Skin Blend 32TG - Whysim Tifa 57 Edit TG

Default S1: Whysim Misc Skin Blend 30TG - Whysim Misc Skin Blend 40TG

Whysim Misc Skin Blend 37TG - Whysim Misc Skin Blend 31TG

Default S2: Whysim BuffyHP Tan Skinblend TG (my edit: more pink, less orange) - Whysim Ashleydoll Blend Edit TG

Nat Bambi Expanded 7 - Whysim Misc Skin Blend 19TG

Whysim BuffyHP Dark TG - Default S3: Whysim Misc Skin Blend 29TG

Whysim Misc Skin Blend 7TG - Nat Bambi Expanded 10

Nat Bambi Expanded 12 - Pooklet My Poor Lover 06

Nat Bambi Expanded 14 - Pooklet Mouseyblue Dusk Skin 03

Default S4: Pooklet My Poor Lover 07 - Nat Bambi Expanded 18

Pooklet My Poor Lover 08 - Default alien: Tea Leaf Stargazer MPL Zoen Blend

These skins are townified, meaning that new townies and NPCs that spawn can get them. They are also geneticized, meaning that they have genetic values that inform which skintones will be given to babies born in game. Basically babies will always get skintones that fall in between or on the skintones that their biological parents have, as is the case for the four default skintones.

You can see the genetic value that I assigned to a skin at the end its file name. Example: "1_Whysim_MiscSkinBlend32TG_0.05.package" → this skin has a genetic value of 0.05. The skins that are S1-S4 default replacements have respective genetic values of 0.1, 0.3, 0.6 and 0.9. For more info on that and to learn how to change a custom skin's genetic value, see Rikkulidea's tutorial.

If you don't want all 22 skins but just a selection, feel free to pick and choose and it won't disrupt anything when it comes to genetics (if you want to mix them with other skins however, you may want to make sure that all the genetic values really are in a sequence from lightest to darkest). If on the other hand you think 22 skins isn't enough, check you @esotheria-sims's 97 geneticized skins 💖

Please let me know if you encounter any issues or have any questions.

✨Future plans for body shapes: these here skins are regular skins linked to the standard Maxis body shapes. I will be working on showerproof skins for custom body shapes that will be repo'd to these skins, starting with Momma Lisa/Melodie9 fat male (edit: it's here!). It may take a while but in the end all 22 skins will come in showerproof versions for as many body shapes as I have the mental fortitude to do (making showerproof skins is an excruciating mix of requiring focus and discipline while being extremely tedious).

~

The F hair used on the titlecard is @fakebloood's SClub Haruki in dynamite - the M hair below the cut is AlmightyHat's Shorn in dynamite - the eyes in all previews are from this set by @serabiet - the eyebrows are defaults by Cavernosims.

[thelastevilregal]

The comment I made in the tags of the last post is making me think of Swan-Mills DnD family game night but instead of roleplaying they all just play as themselves

Emma likes to multiclass so she's pretty well rounded. A jack of all trades master of none type. Her wisdom is ass tho

Snow is a rogue but for some reason decided to make her best stat charisma

David can hit things. He can also take a hit. His background of growing up on a farm means he passes nearly all nature-based and animal handling skill checks with ease. Unfortunately he is outclassed in just about all of this by some of his companions, rendering him a bit redundant

Regina dumped all her stats into intelligence, wisdom, and charisma. She's always getting one-shotted due to her low constitution and needing to be revived. Emma is constantly nagging her about putting some points into dexterity so she's not solely relying on magic all the time, grilling her about what she's going to do when she runs out of spell slots. "Cantrips, Miss Swan, cantrips," is all Regina ever says in response. And yes, she does abuse magic missile, why do you ask?

Belle is a non-magic user who poured all her stats into intelligence and wisdom. Because of this, everyone thinks they're going to have to carry her during encounters but she almost always manages to hold her own through clever use of her environment and an intimate understanding of all the monsters they face

Killian multiclasses as a rogue and a bard, and is content to either talk his way out of conflict or fight his way out. His keen senses for finding treasure and disarming traps, skills with both a pistol and a rapier, and convenient support abilities are valued by his companions. However, his party always becomes quickly annoyed by his attempts to fuck anything that moves

It's always a good time when Red makes it to a session. As a path of the beast barbarian with high strength and high constitution, she makes any combat encounter a walk in the park. Her sensitive nose also allows her party to bypass certain puzzles/encounters they would have otherwise spent hours on. The only downside to having her around is her wolfish appetite and subsequent strain on the group's resources

Robin is a rogue who the party calls in for stealth missions. Emma resents him for it, since when he's not around, she's the one who is relied on for all things related to stealth and thievery. But the real reason she doesn't like him is because he keeps flirting with Regina's character

Mulan is a fighter class and can do basically everything David can do but better. She has abysmally low charisma though so the group has to be careful to never allow her to be the one to talk to strangers they come across

Despite having +10 modifiers in all stats, Rumple still can't help but cheat and gets kicked out of sessions for it repeatedly. The party ends up caving and bringing him back for more challenging missions since his skillset as the Dark One is so useful. He has a bad habit of rolling crit fails at high stakes moments, setting the party's progress back months in some cases. When he isn't cheating or rolling nat 1's, he has a tendency to turn on his companions. No one knows why they keep inviting him

[natsmagi]

I really share a lot of your sentiments, the frustrations and especially the grief regarding enstars— I'm a relatively new enstars fan, well if 2022 is still "new" and for so long I avoided the game because it seemed so massive, the kind that seemed almost too big to fail and would lsst years down the line. I was kind of the type that found old franchises years after their original creators had moved on or abandoned those projects.

This to say, I usually can't imagine how heartbreaking it is to have been a long-time fan of a franchise... but actually you've helped me understand it since I actually learnt a lot about Switch and the Eccentrics through your posts, and it probably started from the post you had about recommending some stories to an anon that helped me appreciate the unit in general. ( Seeing your comments after events was also a blast, I think you were one of the people I followed for a long time ? I've changed accounts and all often but I kept coming back for the art too <3 )

So I can't believe people would say that "we're just hating for the sake of hating" because it's very clear how much you love and appreciate enstars, and I think people forget that you can't feel betrayal for something you always hated, there had to have been love and trust— trust that was squashed away in that act.

It's really devastating to see that the Enstars that first drew me in is slowly changing into a whole different thing altogether, that the devs have decided that they don't value their most loyal and dedicated fans since they keep carelessly handling the idols we've grown attached to. When they keep reusing old schticks and tropes in one moment to appeal to older fans only to make some needless change to try and garner a newer audience. And it always seems like they keep gambling away any sort of coherency just to try and be hip with the younger generations even if most of their income is from young adults.

It's really just so jarring, and I get others trying to tnink positively or make light of the new situation but happy ele isn't even being subtle about it at all.

Sorry for the long ass ask, I hope you've been doing alright though nat-san 💖

WAAAA it makes me so happy to hear i managed to have a positive impact on ur fandom experience!! q__q and im actually a somewhat "new" fan myself funnily enough! though maybe 2021 isnt new anymore... but the sole reason i even created this account is because at the time there was a huge lack of switch content, esp in the eng speaking fandom, and i really wanted people to love this unit as much as i did!!! i hadnt been consistently drawing for quite a while, but this drive got me out of that slump and made me try learning rendering (as id usually just do sketches)

i also just love gushing about little knickknacks i notice here and there, and it has genuinely been such a delight getting to share my thoughts with the fandom, even if i sometimes am most certainly reaching AJKSHDF BUT THAT WAS KINDA WHAT MADE IT SO FUN??? what i adored was how things would be implied but never outright said. how even things like the designs carry so much meaning. The symbolism of it all. but i just dont see any of this featured in the new stories.... at least for switch. And that really upsets me because everything about them had always genuinely felt so "magical." and a rule of magic is to not explain it or it ruins the mystic. If your text focuses too much on explaining why things are the way they are, it becomes purely informational and by proxy loses any and all magic and splendor.

"it works instead of plays" to quote byung-chul han. This is what the recent writing choices have felt like. And thats bad story telling imo!!!! i love when things are left ambiguous!!!!! you do not need to explain every little detail!!!!!!!!! some things are not MEANT to have concrete answers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! but happyele insists on explaining shit anyway!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! literally what was the fucking point of telling us that natsumes weird fucking hairstyle means literally nothing and is just a fun hairstyle when its SO BLATANTLY a reference to the red string of fate if not so they can go ahead and chop tsumugis hair off, to name one example?????? or tsumugi mansplaining the meaning behind the unit name "switch" in tri-lights, having the dumbest nonsensical explanation known to man because how the FUCK do you come up with the S in switch standing for sports before even realizing it has WITCH IN THE NAME???? you DO NOT NEED TO EXPLAIN THESE THINGS. YOU ARE ERADICATING THE WHIMSICALITY OF THE UNKNOWN. IF THINGS ARE LEFT UNKNOWN THAT MEANS THERES ENDLESS POSSIBILITIES AND ITS FUN TO SPECULATE. ITS FUN TO NOTICE THINGS. THESE ARE DESIGN CHOICES, YOU DO NOT NEED TO RECOGNIZE THEM IN THE DAMN STORIES!!!!!!!! but the writers CANNOT come up with ANY real substance anymore so THIS IS WHAT THEY RESORT TO.

you can have intent and NOT NEED TO MENTION SAID INTENT EXPLICITLY. AND ITS EVEN WORSE WHEN WE KNOW THE INTENT AND THEN THEY GO COMPLETELY AGAINST IT, LIKE TSUMUGIS HAIR LENGTH BEING MEANT TO REPRESENT HOW LONG HES LIVED!!!!!!! ONLY FOR THEM TO CUT THAT LIFE RIGHT OFF!!!!!!!!!!!! they keep explaining things which not only makes them lose their magic by proxy, but also EXPLICITLY GOING AGAINST WHAT MADE THEM MAGICAL TO BEGIN WITH. TSUMUGIS HAIR THING IS WRITTEN IN THE FIRST EVER ARTBOOK. HE WAS MEANT TO GROW HIS HAIR OUT AND HIS HAIR WAS MEANT TO GROW EVEN LONGER TO REPRESENT HIM FINALLY LIVING. BUT BECAUSE PEOPLE THOUGHT IT WAS UGLY THEY NOW DECIDED TO KILL IT TO TRY AND DRAW IN A NEW AUDIENCE. IM BAFFLED. AND IN WONDER GAME HE EVEN SAID "THANKS TO THIS NEST [HAIR] THIS BLUE BIRD CAN KEEP LIVING" OR WHATEVER. HIS HAIR IS DIRECTLY TIED TO HIS LIFE. PEOPLE ONLY EVER TALK ABOUT THE NTMG ASPECT BUT IT GOES SO MUCH DEEPER THAN THAT. YOU CANNOT CLAIM TO LIKE TSUMUGI AND CARE ABOUT HIS CHARACTER IF YOU LIKE HIS HAIR CHANGE. NATSUMES NOT THE ONLY REASON BEHIND IT.

anyway. ahem. ill leave my rant regarding the current writing state of enstars (aka specifically wish) for another day because theres genuinely so many contradictions in that story, even having dialogue WITHIN the story contradict ANOTHER dialogue within the story. Like you can tell that shit literally wasnt even proofread. but im saving my more elaborate thoughts on this story for when i read a full proper TL to ensure MTLs arent lying to me

but yea. another thing is how its so clear the reason theyre taking this sudden approach is to try and compete with project sekai/draw in that audience. a blatant example being esupuris very existence. But now you can also see it in the UI change, outfit customization looking the exact same as prsks, the airship park thing also looking like something ud find in prsk, etc etc. There has also been a sudden lack of care for established units, with them mixing and mashing so many charas together to release new songs that often have no grounds in canon. Just doing it for the sake of generating the hype shuffle units gave, not realizing part of what made shuffles so fun was seeing the characters interact with new people. and, since it was somewhat rare, it felt exciting every time it happened!! but i wish we got more unit content..... only getting one event per year is gonna stagnate so much growth......

i rambled on alot ok ill wrap it up now BUT!!!! i do wanna mention that i do still have SOOO many thoughts about so many things, and i notice new things every time i reread the older stories, and it fills me with as much joy as the first time i read them!! so if i can find a way to articulate myself id love to share my little findings with u all!! and, ofc, im still gonna draw the characters i love and adore!! despite my ramblings, im actually coping rather well with how enstars is. im surrounded by so many lovely people (including u guys here on tumblr!!) who make me feel less alone in my grievances, and that really helps me keep my head up high! plus, i have my friends who continue to discuss the things we adore about these guys together! the only downside is seeing others celebrate the current state of the game/defend it. its hard to believe they care alot about the game with how they talk. and artists are gonna continue to draw the new looks and such.... so i cant engage with the fandom like i used to. but thats ok i think.... ive bought fan comics to help cope with a lack of food!! would much rather support fellow artists than this company anyway!!!!

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

If You Met Me First - Rooster

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw / Warrant Officer!Reader (Callsign: Echo)

Word Count: 3.0k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warning: Confession of Feelings; Seemingly One-Sided Feelings; 'In Love with Someone Already in a Relationship' Trope; Bar Fight; Physical Fight; Threats of Violence; Not Healthy Relationship Dynamics; Jealousy; OC Boyfriend of Reader; Rooster Isn't Innocent Either; Female Reader with Callsign (Echo)

Summary: Rooster confessed to Echo that he was in love with her before the mission. One minor problem: she has a boyfriend.

A.N. This was inspired by "If You Met Me First" by Eric Ethridge, if y'all wanted to set the mood while reading this.

Part 2

Master List

Rooster leaned on the standing table on the edge of the Hard Deck, staring over at Echo in the corner. The warrant officer, who also just happened to be the love of Rooster’s life, was chatting with her boyfriend, Luke, who came to visit her after the Dagger Squad was officially stationed in Miramar for the foreseeable future.

“Stop looking at her like that, or he’s really going to knock your lights out,” Phoenix warned Rooster, keeping her voice low. “I’m serious, Bradshaw.”

Rooster broke his stare at Echo and turned to Phoenix, who shot him a knowing look in return. Rooster let out a light scoff and shook his head at her before reaching for his beer.

“Stop fucking around with her,” Phoenix continued, not letting it go. Not with that look in Rooster’s eye. “She’s in a relationship. With another guy. Not you.”

“I’m aware, Nat,” Rooster huffed, taking an aggressive swig of his beer.

“Evidently not.”

Phoenix glanced over at Luke and Echo, studying their interaction for a moment, before turning back to Rooster. Her gaze hardened a bit. She was growing tired of having this conversation over and over again with Rooster. The man wasn’t going to lose hope. Phoenix wasn’t even convinced that Echo actually getting married officially would. Not really.

Look at Maverick and Penny. The tenacity was in Rooster’s blood.

“You’re lucky that he hasn’t knocked your front teeth out for telling Echo that you’re in love with her.”

“You know that she told him?” Rooster asked, tapping his fingers on the table.

“It’s Echo. Of course, she told him. You know how much she values honesty,” Phoenix muttered, shaking her head at Rooster.

“I was just being honest. We all thought that we weren’t coming back from that mission,” Rooster doubled down, even if it made him into a bigger asshole. “I don’t regret telling her how I feel before the mission. I don’t.”

“And how would you react to some other guy telling your girlfriend that he was in love with her?” Phoenix countered, causing Rooster to look away. “Exactly. So, drop it.”

“I really do appreciate the reminder,” Rooster muttered, kicking at the ground.

“Rooster, you . . .”

Phoenix trailed off when she spotted Luke and Echo in the middle of a disagreement. Fanboy and Bob, who had been sitting with them earlier, seemed to have slipped away to the bar to get refills, leaving Luke and Echo by themselves. Luke was clearly agitated and Echo was trying to calm him down, but she seemed to be failing at that.

Because Luke stood up from the table and started stalking over to Rooster with a fairly murderous expression on his face.

“Oh shit,” Phoenix cursed, straightening up.

Rooster, however, maintained a sense of calm and stood at his full height when Luke reached him. Luke was fairly well built, but Rooster did have a bit of a height advantage between them, which only seemed to stoke Rooster’s own ego and ignite Luke’s fury.

“Can I help you?” Rooster asked sarcastically, squaring his shoulders.

“Luke,” Echo called, hurrying after her boyfriend. “Stop it. Now.”

“It’s fine, sweetheart,” Luke replied, instantly causing Rooster’s blood to boil. “I just have to ask him one little question and then we can go.”

“Luke, this isn’t funny,” Echo demanded, grabbing his arm. “Let’s just go home.”

“Did you tell her that you loved her?” Luke snapped, ripping his arm out of Echo’s grip. “Back before this ridiculous mission that you all worked on. Did you tell her that you loved her?”

“Whoa, whoa, fellas,” Hangman drawled, sauntering over.

He wore an amused smile, but it was clear by the glint in his eyes that he wasn’t playing around. He could sniff a bar fight brewing between Luke and Rooster and he was quite sure that it was going to be a fight to the death. And, so, the best thing for everyone was to prevent a fight from breaking out in the first place.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Because the second that Penny glances over here, she’s going to throw both of you out on your asses,” Hangman continued, gesturing over at the bar.

“Yes, thank you, Hangman,” Echo spoke up, grabbing Luke’s arm again. “Which is why we should just home, Luke.”

“Do not escalate this,” Phoenix warned Rooster. “They’ll pull your wings if you get in a fight.”

“Come on, let’s go,” Echo tried again, tugging on Luke’s arm. “Please, Luke.”

“Don’t play so fucking innocent,” Luke snapped, rounding on Echo. “I saw the way that you look at him.”

“Don’t fucking yell at her,” Rooster demanded, coming to Echo’s defense.

“Bradley, I don’t need—” Echo told him, which only set Luke off again.

“—Why do you call him by his first name, but not anyone else here?” Luke countered, causing Echo to frown slightly.

“Why did you even come here if you were just going to yell at me the whole time?”

“Because I’m trying to fight for our relationship, which you seem to have given up on. Because he,” Luke jabbed a finger in Rooster’s direction, “told you that he loved you and you got all fucking confused because you like him and you just won’t admit to it.”

“I’m with you, aren’t I?” Echo replied, standing up for herself. “And you know what? He did. But I turned him down and told him that I just thought about him as a friend because I was committed to our relationship. And if that’s not good enough for you, I don’t know what you want me to do. I can’t control what other people do.”

“I want you to look me in the eye and tell me that you have zero feelings for him,” Luke demanded, gesturing over at Rooster.

“That’s fucking ridiculous—”

“—Do you love him?” Luke interjected, causing Echo to glance over at Rooster. “Do you love him?”

“I don’t love him,” Echo replied, her tone and expression completely unconvincing. And the glance that she shot in Rooster’s direction all but sealed the deal.

Luke, his assumptions confirmed, whirled to face Rooster again with his fist clenched. And, in seemingly slow motion, he raised his fist, about to swing to break Rooster’s nose. But luckily, for Rooster’s sake, Hangman was faster than Luke.

And that was when chaos broke out.

Hangman all but tackled Luke to the ground to prevent him from swinging at Rooster, which immediately alerted the bar to the ruckus, if they weren’t already. Echo was about to step in to try and get Luke to stop but Fanboy, who she knew for the longest time, came up behind her and dragged her away from the scene before she could get hurt.  

Phoenix yelled at Rooster to stay back as Coyote ran over to help out Hangman with Luke. The bell rung and Maverick arrived at the scene with Payback right behind him. Bob hurried around Maverick to help Phoenix with Rooster while Maverick diffused the situation.

“Stop, or we’ll call the fucking cops,” Maverick warned Luke, who simply glared up at him. “Are you alright, Hangman? Coyote?”

“Not my first bar fight,” Hangman returned, keeping a tight hold on Luke.

“You’re all such fucking sell outs,” Luke cursed, glaring up and around at the Dagger Squad. “If any of you were in my position, you would understand where I’m coming from.”

“That’s no reason to throw a punch and start a bar fight. Talk it out like adults. And you owe Echo an apology for your conduct,” Maverick scolded Luke. “Are you alright, Echo?”

Maverick, the rest of the Dagger Squad, and Luke glanced up for any sign of the warrant officer, but Echo was nowhere to be found. And neither was Fanboy. Bradley looked around frantically for any sign of Echo when Payback cut through the tension.

“I’m going to make a call,” Payback stated, pulling out his phone and stepping away.

“Take him outside,” Maverick snapped, gesturing for Hangman and Coyote to throw Luke out onto the sand for starting a bar fight. As Hangman and Coyote dragged Luke away, Maverick rounded on Rooster, who was still tense. “What the fuck is going on, Bradley? Telling Echo that you’re in love with her? What were you even thinking?”

Rooster opened his mouth to speak, but Maverick quickly cut him off with a wave of his finger.

“Don’t you dare,” Maverick warned Rooster, serious.

“It was right before the mission,” Rooster mumbled out as Bob and Phoenix finally released him.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Maverick sighed, rubbing his face tiredly.

“I heard from Fanboy. He took Echo to a safe place,” Payback announced to the remaining Dagger Squad. “But he’s not saying where that is.”

“To me, you mean?” Rooster guessed, causing Payback to shoot him a look.

“Who else?” Payback replied, somewhat coldly. “I’m going to meet them with the rest of their stuff.”

Payback walked off as Hangman and Coyote returned from outside, having deposited Luke onto the sand, and made sure that he left on his own accord. Rooster slumped down into his seat, holding his head in his hand, as the rest of the Dagger Squad stared at each other.

“Shots?” Hangman suggested nonchalantly, earning an immediate smack on the arm from Phoenix.

~~~~~

On Monday, the Dagger Squad reported for duty like normal. But the dynamics were clearly off.

Fanboy spent the duration of their classroom time glaring holes into Rooster’s head. Phoenix seemed to still be on Rooster’s side on things, but more on a technicality than anything else. It was clear that she still thought that he was an idiot. Payback, who knew Echo through Fanboy, also focused on glaring at Rooster with his WSO.

But the most startling difference was the fact that Echo wasn’t standing beside Hondo like normal.

It ate away at Rooster for the entirety of the day, until he found his boots leading him towards the offices. Passing various personnel, Rooster burst into Maverick’s office without so much as a preamble knock.

“Bradley, what—”

“—Where did Echo go?” Rooster asked, causing Maverick to sigh.

“Bradley—”

“—Please, Mav,” Rooster begged, sounding desperate.

Maverick slowly looked up at his godson. Frankly, with all the escapades that Maverick had during his life, he was really not in any position to criticize Rooster for his choices. But Maverick knew better than to mess with an existing relationship. Hell, he attended Penny’s wedding, even if he felt like someone was repeatedly punching him in the gut through the whole ceremony.

But seeing just how desperate and quietly broken up Rooster seemed to be about it, Maverick relented.

“She asked for a transfer. Filed the paperwork with Cyclone and it got approved immediately. She’s no longer part of the Dagger Squad. Not officially, anyways.”

“What?” Rooster breathed out, feeling his heart crawl up his throat. “Where is she going?”

“I don’t know, Brad. Really, I don’t. But, you should—”

Before Maverick could finish speaking, Bradley had already turned and ran out of the office. Glancing at his watch, Rooster ran through scenarios in his mind and sprinted faster through base with a set destination in mind. He spotted Fanboy and Bob walking out of their specific WSO training and made a beeline over to them.

“Fanboy!”

The WSO in question turned at the sound of his callsign, but immediately frowned when he spotted Rooster running over to him. It seemed that he still wasn’t a fan of Rooster after the shenanigans from the weekend. Bob and Fanboy shared a look before Rooster finally stopped in front of them. Though he was a little out of breath, Rooster quickly got to the point.

“Echo’s transferring?”

“Yes, she is. Because someone couldn’t keep their mouth shut,” Fanboy snapped, causing Rooster’s chest to cave in just a little more.

“Where is she transferring to?”

“I’m not telling you,” Fanboy replied defensively. “You’ve put her through enough.”

“I know I have, okay!?” Rooster yelled out, probably a bit louder than he intended. “And now I’m trying to fix it before she runs off and I never see her again!” Breathing rapidly, Rooster took a step closer to Fanboy, who continued to glare at him. “Please, Fanboy. I just . . . I just need to tell her that I’m sorry. I need the last moment that I see her to not be her crying because of me . . . okay?”

Fanboy stared evenly up at Rooster for a long moment. He noted the dark circles under Rooster’s eyes, the slightly fidgety way that he stood. The way that his breathing was still rapid and uneven. He looked like he was in rough shape and rightfully so, in Fanboy’s personal opinion.

But Fanboy never liked Luke and after what Echo confessed to him last night, he wavered for a moment.

“Her flight leaves in a little over an hour. Terminal 2. If you’re fast enough, you might be able to make it to see her before she leaves.”

“Thanks, Fanboy, I—”

“—Move, dumbass! You don’t have time!” Fanboy yelled, gesturing towards the parking lot. “What the hell are you waiting for? Go!”

And without another word, Rooster turned and sprinted off.

~~~~~

Echo was sitting by her gate, just scrolling on her phone. She had been texting back and forth with her mom, updating her on her flight so that she could pick her up from the airport, when she saw a familiar mustache hurrying down the hall.

With her heart nearly beating out her chest, Echo stood up from her seat and stared down Bradley, who seemed to instinctively feel her gaze on him. Still dressed in his flight suit, Rooster spun around to see Echo.

Calmer now that he found her before her plane started boarding, Rooster walked over to Echo, a softer expression on his face. Echo wrapped her arms around herself and stared up at Bradley, trying to keep up a face of calm.

“Hey,” Rooster breathed out, stopping in front of her.

“Hey,” Echo returned, just as awkwardly.

Rooster opened his mouth to speak, but he seemed to immediately lose his train of thought. Breathing in and out rapidly, Rooster stared down at the ground for a moment. Finally turning back to Echo, Rooster seemed to finally find the words.

“I just needed you to know . . . that I’m sorry,” Rooster replied softly, causing Echo to nod. “I . . . I didn’t mean to confuse you and I didn’t mean to put you in that position.” Echo nodded slowly, pursing her lips together nervously. “It was my fault. And I’m sorry, Echo. I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you,” Echo spoke softly. She glanced down at the ground before turning back to Rooster. “I’m sorry about Luke.”

“Don’t apologize for him. He’s responsible for his own actions,” Rooster stated, causing Echo to nod slowly. “He left you alone, right?”

“He left me a nasty voicemail and sent me a video of him with some other woman, so I’m pretty sure that’s over and done with,” Echo replied quietly, not looking that broken up about it. “I . . . we made it work for a lot longer than we should have. I should have broken up with him a long time ago.”

“I . . .” Rooster paused for a moment. “. . . won’t comment on that.”

Echo breathed out a quiet laugh and looked away from him for a moment. Turning back to Rooster, Echo stared into his soul, and Rooster stared right back at her, practically bowling over with how much he was drawn to Echo’s physical presence.

“Flight AA79344 will begin boarding shortly. Passengers, please . . .” the gate agent announced, shattering the moment.

“You’re not going to tell me where you’re being stationed, are you?” Rooster guessed, causing Echo to nod softly.

“I just need some space and some time. For myself,” Echo replied, causing Rooster to nod.

“Of course.” He glanced over at the gate before turning back to Echo. “But, if you . . . if you change your mind or clear your head . . . I’m all ears, Echo.”

“I know, Bradley,” Echo returned genuinely.

Pulling him into a hug, Echo buried her face into Rooster’s chest, memorizing the familiar feeling and the mix of gasoline and his faint body wash. Rooster rested his head on top of Echo’s own, holding her as close as he possibly could. He didn’t want to let her go. And she didn’t want to let him go. Not when the both felt like they finally found a bit of peace.

“We’d like to welcome our passengers who are active-duty service members to board.”

Reluctantly, Rooster released Echo, who took a step back from him. Gently cupping his cheek with her hand, Echo smiled painfully, rubbing his cheek with her thumb. Rooster grabbed her hand with his own for a moment before she slipped away. Echo walked up to the till with her backpack and scanned her ticket. Shooting Rooster one last pained smile, Echo headed down the tunnel for the plane.

Rooster watched, in near physical pain, as the plane backed away from the airport and turned for the runway. He stood there until he watched her plane take off and fly out into the great blue sky and didn’t turn away until he couldn’t make it out among the clouds.

Finally turning away from the glass, Rooster tried to discretely wipe his tears away before heading for the exit.

Part 2

[before-it-felt-like-a-sin]

do you ever get this with the yjs where you just wanna take care of them? Like the poor babies are just teenage girls in the wild 😣

Like staying by lotties side after getting beat up by Shauna, or bandaging Shauna’s knuckles, not saying anything because you know it’s a lot and just being there for her

or even better looking after Nat after she comes in from hunting, when half frozen to death and exhausted. just imagine washing her and brushing/ braiding her hair because it’ll get matted if not. just being gentle and loving because GOD she deserves it, even if she barely acknowledges it because all she can think about is the lack of food and Travis, but it’s the only way you can seem to show your affection for her (may or may not be in need of some angst…..)

but omg I just want them to be loved so bad, like if I was in that cabin, that is exactly what I’d spend my time doing

Oh absolutely. This is actually something I think about all the time.

Shauna:

When you first crash and Shauna realizes she's pregnant, just being with her and making sure she knows you'll help take care of the baby. Stroking her hair and holding her after the attempted abortion.

After Jackie dies just sitting with her all the time, checking on her in the shed, making sure she's eating when everyone else does, giving her extra food.

When the baby dies you're just holding her as she sobs, helping her bury him. Not saying anything just letting her cry it out.

Trying to hold her back when she snaps at Lottie, just telling her it'll all be okay and she needs to take a deep breath, not wanting anyone hurt. Not being able to watch as she hits Lottie, but gently bandaging her hands when the fight's over.

Lottie:

Knowing something's up almost as soon as the plane crashes, noticing her taking the last of her meds. Not saying anything but trying to communicate that she's gonna be okay.

When she sees dead cabin guy for the first time, waking up in the middle of the night like Nat did and holding her, telling her he's gone and it's okay. Making her lie down and go back to sleep even if she doesn't want to.

Holding her close after Laura Lee dies, knowing that there isn't anything you can say to make it better.

Doing her stupid wilderness bullshit with her even if you don't believe in it, wanting her to have your support.

Washing her and being the one to find her after the hunting competition, telling her how stupid it was while also just being so soft.

Being the one to take care of her after the fight with Shauna, forcing food and water down her throat, needing her to stay alive. When she even suggests dying you're telling her no, no way, she's gonna be alright.

Tai:

Going up to the attic with her the night of the seance, just making sure she has company, talking about stupid shit with her. Noticing the sleepwalking and doing what you can to stop it.

Going with her on the journey south and staying up to make sure she doesn't end up sleepwalking away from the rest of you, comforting her after the wolves.

Van:

Dragging her back to the cabin after the wolf attack, staying with her and Tai while the rest of the group goes back to the cabin. Holding her hand as she gets stitched up, hating her screaming.

Helping Tai make the doomcoming masks so she feels comfortable, always telling her how badass the scars make her look. Just wanting her to know that she's still her after the attack.

Jackie:

Giving her pep talks when she's all "it's so hard I can't do it", like Shauna would. Making sure she knows that she's still valued even if it doesn't feel like she is.

When she finds out about Shauna and Jeff, just comforting her and telling her that she's sure Shauna didn't mean it and she made a mistake, telling her to come back inside after the fight. Or staying outside with her and starting the fire so she doesn't die (I am convinced I could've kept her alive). Talking to Shauna about the whole predicament so they talk it out.

Natalie:

Glaring at Travis when they're first practicing with the gun because he's such an asshole, hyping her up when she goes again. Being pissed when Travis turns the gun on her.

When she and Travis break up telling her that who she's slept with isn't his business, telling her that she deserves better than that. Just holding her close because you know she doesn't want to get vulnerable. Telling her how hot she is when Travis can't get it up.

After hunting (or before) brushing and braiding her hair. She's always grateful but doesn't say anything to you. Wanting to kiss her but she's back with Travis and you know she deserves better than him. Just being someone for her to lean on when she's upset with him.

Like Lottie, washing her off and pulling her from the ice after the hunting competition. Telling her that moose isn't worth her dying.

You and Travis letting her get away during the hunt, but you following with the rest of the girls to pull her away from Javi. Standing by her as she gets crowned queen.

[slocumjoe]

Some random thoughts on who can or can't cook and how they do

Cait; cannot, period, eats packaged food if not fed by someone else. Unlikely to take food from someone else anyway. Steal, yes, but if its offered, fuck. No.

Curie; cannot, not because she's bad at it, but because she focuses too much on nutritional value rather than...flavor...or pleasantness...

Danse; can, but is only passable aside from a few things. Anything BBQ is mouthwatering, his pasta comes out either under or overdone. His rice is glue. Sees no point in cooking vegetables. His breakfasts have gotten him marriage proposals that he took as a joke.

Deacon; can, will, but his taste is peculiar. Experimental. He's a good cook, but he can never leave well enough alone. Sometimes it works. But only sometimes.

Gage; can, won't for anyone else. Come dinner, he vanishes to go make his own grub. He's one of the better cooks, if only because he has more years on the others, and more time to figure out what works. Cola pulled [insert meat here] is a specialty of his.

Hancock; thinks he can cook. Cannot. Putting chips on bread and covering it in hot sauce is not cooking. Hancock feeds himself, but he cannot cook.

MacCready; had to learn with the little guy. Duncan is picky not for his own taste, but because his father would literally never learn otherwise. MacCready has frat boy tastes buds. He thinks doritos and mountain dew is a gourmet luxury.

Nick; either five star chef or he's laying face down in a bowl of cereal, gnawing at the air until something gets in his mouth. The most mouthwatering food, or "life is pain, food is bullshit, and we're all going to die ignorant and regretful"

Piper; eldest sister, so she makes food that probably would upset a dietician, but is very nostalgic for anyone else. Sandwiches are great, soup is great, one pan dishes are great. Eats packaged if Nat isn't around though

Preston; de facto best cook of them all, was actually properly taught, enjoys it, and has taste buds that ask for something a little more substantial than whatever Hancock or Cait have going on. Also, likes rice too much to let Danse do...whatever it is he does to it.

X6-88; can't, but he talks so much shit you'd think he was Gordon Fucking Ramsey

[deeply-embarrassing]

dissecting shauna's trip in "purgatory" with her son in 2x06

okay so shauna's "hallucinations" with her son are devastating. the fact she'll never be sure whether she truly held him is already a lot, but 2x06 is even worse to rewatch if you believe in three theories**:

there's a purgatory, and what the person who's between life and death experiences depends on whether "it" wants them to survive

eating/drinking in purgatory condemns you

blood has value in the wilderness

just like with jackie, purgatory for shauna and her son is sweet and believable at first. everyone is there, everything is fine. purgatory is giving shauna everything she hoped for.

except it's not. because whenever shauna tries to feed her baby, it doesn't work. why? there were food/drinks available in jackie's and lottie's purgatories. whether shauna's body could realistically produce milk doesn't matter, as she does eventually manage to breastfeed him. and her son is hungry, he's so hungry he can't stop crying.

why isn't he eating? why isn't it working? maybe her son instinctively knows he shouldn't. maybe milk is not what he's hungry for, and she's offering the wrong thing. maybe she can't produce what he needs just yet.

meanwhile the wilderness is starving, "it" needs to be fed. "it" picks the people shauna trusts the most, and portrays them as annoyed by the kid's cries (tai) or as already condemning him to death (natalie). a clever way to goad shauna into trying to feed him more insistently.

frustrated none of it works, "it" starts to break the sweet illusion, creating more shocking situations appealing to shauna's fears. lottie taking her child away, becoming the child's mother. she'll feed him (physically and psychologically), unless shauna does it first.

from that moment on, "it" makes tea available to shauna. "we need to feed": it's going to be her or the baby. the tea or the milk. however, ideally, "it" would rather have the baby: the tea is easy to miss in this scene, just sitting there, undiscussed. probably because shauna would be more useful to the wilderness.

eventually, shauna sits with her son. for the first time, she tells him that she loves him, that she's sorry she used not to. as soon as she starts speaking to him, his "hunger-induced" crying stops.

(it might be another "physical hunger as the expression of psychological hunger, of longing for love and connection" yellowjackets moment. the baby hadn't been crying for milk, in this reality, but for love. and when hunger is psychological, you can only be fed by the people whom you're connected to. jackie was given tea by the group, after shauna brought her inside. lottie was given food by laura lee. love is "psychological food", and it's portrayed as literal food in these scenes.)

so, the only one who can feed the baby is someone who loves him. shauna explicitely does, now, and she asks him to drink for her. she says it's how they'll stay together. so he does. she kills him while trying to do the opposite.

""natalie"" comes in just a few seconds later, bringing shauna tea. the kid kept refusing to drink, so it was time to make the mother truly notice the tea. but then "nat" realizes the baby is drinking: it's finally happening. it's a miracle.

"she" directly wants to "tell the others", which probably is code for informing the trapper/hunter. it echoes with "so glad you're joining us, we've been waiting for you" in jackie's purgatory, or "i think we need to get you out of here" in lottie's.

shauna is so fcused on her son that she doesn't even acknowledge the tea. in every way, her son's death saves her life. loving him, feeding him, being awed by him, saves her life.

she asks for a bit more time alone with the baby, she has no way of knowing what she's truly asking for. the attention of "nat" has completely switched, though. "she" avoids looking at shauna and is focusing on the baby, a bit shocked, a bit hungry. and though "she" protests a little, eventually "she" accepts the request. it's not evil, just hungry?

then, she wakes up next to an empty crib, the tea and the group's offerings. and the group is eating her baby: all of them, including ben, who didn't eat jackie. the baby's dead, and "it" is eating him in front of her.

blood had been spilled in this world, all over the symbol, by eating the baby. and in real life, it's been spilled through the group's blood offerings and shauna's body. "it" isn't hungry anymore. shauna wakes up in real life.

-> we're not sure whether these death sequences are "real", if there truly are "wilderness entities" manipulating them towards life or death or if their minds are making it up depending on their own wishes/fears. but if it's real, then 2x06 shows us shauna being manipulated into killing her own child right in front of us. and just like her, we'll probably never know for sure if she truly held him. if it was all just hallucinations or something else, something both better and worse.

ps: severe placenta praevia kills both the baby and the mother during childbirth if you don't do a cesarian. from a medical point of view, shauna totally should have died. either the writers didn't look it up, either the wilderness heard them ♥

(**of course, said "purgatory" or "wilderness" don't have to be real things that exist within the show's universe. these death sequences can just be a way to explore further the themes of psychological hunger and consumption, though i personally find that hard to believe. why is food what kills them in these death sequences, offered by the people they love? perhaps the idea is that hunger means you're alive. you're not meant to have everything you want, complete comfort. only death will offer you that. didn't explore that much in this post, it's a super large theme, and there are parts of shauna's "hallucinations" which i struggle to explain without supernatural elements, such as the tea or ben also eating the baby.)

[bromcommie]

free verse poem for @catws-anniversary, day 4 | theme: natasha romanoff | prompt: favourite natasha quote, disguise, trust issues

The truth is a matter of circumstance -

this, you know. Or at least this is what you have been taught, your skin made to learn it over and over and over raw repetition, the mother of all knowledge:

The truth is not all things to all people, and you know this because you've seen men make a living of the truth - shaping and moulding it, a convenient tool to build up myths and nations and gods, break down empires, paint history a dull, inconspicuous color with it. (Blood is never red when it dries, but it does leave stains: dark maroon for the loving glide of Soviet slugs through the organs, overripe date for the shadows of American bombs in bright desert sand. You've collected more conflicting shades than any artist.)

The truth is not all things to all people, and you know this because you have been the clay in their hands and you have been the hatchet chopping away and you have been a footnote in the histories, but your name is not in any of the books. (You have never been any of the men pointing the stick.) Does that matter? What difference does that make? None, except for how sometimes you miss the paper trail you were taught not to leave, how you catch yourself missing the belonging inherent in Alianovna no matter how fabricated, catch yourself wanting evidence that you were ever Natalia before you were Natasha before you were Natalie - Nat - - Tasha - - Widow, with your face plastered all over glittering billboards and your Mona Lisa smile like an autopsy cut. There's really nothing the stars and stripes love more than a good, old-fashioned dissection. So go on. Spread 'em, belly up, label maker in hand ready to agonize over a name for each part, make it neat and palatable for public consumption. Murder Natalia Romanova in cold blood so that Natasha Romanoff can walk away with clean hands; drag the body around because, what - can't you take the silent weight? You weren't planning on living in it, were you? This vicious little animal thing, with sunken eyes and deformed feet? (common side effect of strained movement: hallux valgus. Common side effect of being stepped on one too many times: shrinking.) You wanted that to remain your truth? Forget it - it's too much work, anyway, explaining, and you've been wearing the face of English too long and still don't have all the words you need. (The ones in your head don't count. The truth is for handing out to the people out there, not for ruminating on inside the confines of your own brain.) So chop chop. Hack yourself down to a convenient size, an easily describable shape, a prime cut all juicy and tender. Fit it in the soft pink parts of your mouth where it's the least threatening, the most deadly, just another name to play at your ruby lips. (Most people usually miss the knife at their throat if they're looking at your smile. Most people don't know that all other animals only smile as a threat.)

You are not most people, but you'll pretend anyway because this is what you wanted, isn't it, here is what you ran to: something starkly redacted, something more black and white. A kinder guiding hand. A way to wash the blood off your hands with different, simpler blood, except that - Except that you got sloppy, didn't you. You got complacent and forgetful; all of it, the playing nice and playing parts in games that always somehow end logically, storybook and wrapped up in softened movement and all those eyecatching, carefully controlled curves, every Disney executive's wet dream. And all that carving, my God - it made you tired instead of hungry, didn't it, and you forgot. Forgot that there's value in being many things all at once, forgot that you were still holding the knife until you got carried away and drew real blood, let yourself bleed slow along with the familiar face on the other side of the glass of the OR room. You forgot what it's like to lose, is the thing, and so you let the many-eyed, many-headed sweet-tongued cancer grow and spread right under your nose, and you didn't even notice until it was too late.

It's a straight hit to where you live, isn't it. Second bullet with your ego's name on it, fool me once and all that nonsense, but forget about the anger for a second. Let's focus on the bleeding, on the sharp thing lodged in your throat, the aching pain in your shoulder: here is a reminder from your dead and buried. Here are all your ghosts coming back to haunt you in the shape of many deadly little hands, many false little platitudes, the burn of blinding sunlight off of unyielding metal; primal terror that used to be a kindness. Here is what you are, here is what every one of you has in common, the birthplace of the common denominator of all your truths: survival.

You forgot because it really was too much work, anyway, finding the right words to say, I didn't orchestrate the pain of the Department's stick over my spine or the War that burnt down all our apple orchards or the Long Cold One that came right after, I didn't set my finger to the trigger, but: I still pulled it. I still believed in the bullet, the future it was supposed to bring - no more children with concave stomachs, no more shrinking from being stepped on. I believed and wanted to impress and belong and be untouchable, maybe. Make my spine immune to the stick. So it was not me, you see, apologies for the confusion. It was not this me in front of you, except in all the ways that it was, will be, is still. I am my survival, I was that which I had to survive, and I will be that which will make its way out of the dark in the end. (You are not afraid of the dark. Like all children of war, you know that real fear is born of fire.)

There's the truth you know. You've seen its glowing eyes and its snarling snout in the soft golden strands of a girl grown from the foam of the Black Sea but grown hard in the oblivion white of the tundra, in the artillery midnight sun over Volgograd - Stalingrad - Volgograd, you keep forgetting, in the face of a deprived stray with its ribs sticking out in broad daylight, lips pulled back. Your own face in the mirror through fogged glass. Don't you recognize it? Don't you know this thing with too many teeth, hungry and frightened, like the times that birthed it? Don't you rememeber? (Which times? Does it matter? Any, some, all at once. The truth is not beholden to time, and it's not supposed to be.) Smile, krasotka. Don't we get a smile? Let me see that pretty face, baby, come on. Let me see those teeth bared, inspected like a show animal's, let me see if there's any blood on them. Turns out you're still a commodity, just for a different market. So: break yourself all over again, make yourself unmarketable, undesirable, ungovernable. Because the truth is white-hot, sometimes, the truth gets angry, the truth claws its way out under history's shadows and leaves marks of its own.

The truth is not all - The truth is that which -

The truth - well. The truth is just one of many, is that which you've been running from, is a shapeshifting beast, a useful weapon, a sign of the times. What does that make you? What's it matter? It doesn't. But sometimes you look at the blond man with too many obvious bruises and the soft eyes and the string-calloused hands that spell your name all chopped up T-A-S-H-A before they shorten it to a single sign just a fond blur and you don't even mind the boldness of that familiarity, and you think: maybe it should. Maybe it should matter.

You look at another blond man with the invisible bruises and the lonely guarded eyes and the slow but overwhelming trust in the human parts of you, asking the wrong questions that aren't questions and expecting plain answers, and you think: I should know better than to keep falling for this. You could scoop it out, you think. All the soft compromised parts of him, all that big emotion written all over the sky, expansive and wide: too obvious, too exhausting, too American, all that painful picturebook blue.

It's embarrassing, really. Undignified. You could tear it out of him and twist it into any shape you wanted to, and you wouldn't even have to try all that hard. (But you don't. You don't. The part of you that hasn't shut up in 70 or maybe 17 years sees his trust and says leverage, meaning opportunity. The quieter, braver part sees it and says badge of honour, meaning: something to hold onto. Something else to remember.)

So instead you look at the man with the invisible angry hurt and too much trust in all that is supposed to be human and you think: maybe you can stop believing in the bullet long enough to let yourself believe in something else. So run it through one more time, until it sticks like broken bones did, like knives stuck in moving targets, repetitio est mater studiorum - The truth is a matter of circumstance. It's not all things to all people, all the time, and neither are you.

Meaning, go on: Chuck all of your faces onto a funeral pyre, burn them at the altar of something unfamiliar, something you don't yet have a neat name for. Peeled back, cleaned out like this you still have all your hungers, but maybe you've earned the right to them now. Maybe you can get angry and get even and let the most rabid of all your truths out to stretch their legs, let them snap their jaws but to protect rather than to kill; to exist in all of their conflicting shades and still have a place to lay their head at night. Maybe that can be a cornerstone for something - Not permanent, certainly. Not real, either, because that's just another Americanism that snuck into your vocabulary when you weren't paying attention. Honest, maybe. Maybe you can let the vicious little animal that is you believe in a tomorrow that isn't promised by a myth or the legend of a moulded truth, but that you can still eventually, painstakingly slow put your trust in, and trust it not to break. Maybe.

Maybe seems like enough, for a first second third fresh start.

[liopleurodean]

Counter question: What exactly could the Jedi have done that falls under "done more for clone rights"? They're in the middle of fighting a massive war, spread thin as it is. Sad fact is lobbying for policy change, even for important stuff like this, is pretty low on the priority list when Dooku and his ilk are pillaging systems left and right. If Yoda and Mace and the others have choose between discussing military strategy and pushing for legislation in the Senate (which isn't even their job to do), 9 times out of 10 their priority is the former. Not to mention by the time the war had simmered down to a point where they could start advocating for clone rights, Order 66 was literally a phone call away.

hey, thanks for the question! and you're absolutely right, there wasn't a lot the Jedi could do in the realm of politics. in my post I mention the Jedi struggled with "limitations of the war and their contracts with the Senate and Kaminoans" which definitely affected what they were able to do for the clones. however, I was talking less about political value and more about public opinion -- by the end of the war, most civilians resented or even hated the clones and what they represents. while there was some backlash against Jedi, as well, for the most part the Jedi generals were seen as heroes and paraded across the Holonet. the Jedi could have done more using their influence of public opinion toward the clones, especially those more commonly in the spotlight like Obi-Wan and Anakin (both of whom are considered to have the best treatment towards their troops in the first place).

another realm of their influence is the ranking system. take, for instance, Rex and Tarkin: during the Citadel mission both were Captains, but Tarkin automatically held a higher rank by virtue of being nat-born (something Anakin inadvertently encouraged in his encounters with the man). while the Jedi Commanders were better about recognizing their inexperience in battle and letting the clone commanders take the lead, the Generals could have done more to crack down on clone racism (speciesism? clonism?) within the Republic Navy. not only is that their duty as Generals and therefore the top of the command chain regarding their men, but also the Jedi are the legal owners of the clones and are responsible then for their treatment.

which does come to my last point, if we want to talk politically. the Jedi own the clones. legally. (we're not even going to touch the slavery part of this, that's a problem for another day.) the Kaminoans talk big about "their product", but in the end the Jedi (and the Senate) are paying customers and therefore what happens to the clones outside of Tipoca City is none of their concern. yes, there is an existing contract that the Jedi have to honor, but considering that none of the Jedi knew it existed and the Jedi who initiated it is dead, there should have been a reevaluation of the contract terms and what kind of influence Kamino could have. a big part of the issue is that Senator Burtoni, a representative of a Republic system, would speak out to the Senate about clone issues when the clones no longer belonged to Kamino. the Jedi should have done more to crack down on that kind of behavior and reestablish their control over clone treatment. Shaak-Ti obviously did some work in that department during her time on Kamino, but it's truly depressing how much slid by her.

Anyway, I'd love to hear more thoughts on this! this was mostly just me rambling off the top of my head, so if someone has a more clear and concise point that they want to share, I'd love to hear it. I totally agree that the Jedi were cornered into an awful position and were limited in choices, but I do still believe that more could have been done for their men.