#homesick reader

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

may i request for LWA ursula x croix x reader where it's reader's first birthday away from home and they felt homesick and sad all day until both ursula and croix notice and they surprise them after class? thank you <33

Happy Birthday

|| ursula callistis x croix meridies x nonbinary!reader

|| Warnings; reader feeling homesick, Ursula comforting, Croix flirting, hints at later hook up, short drabble

|| Summary; when Ursula walks into her class, she finds reader sulking at her desk.

Requests closed!

Started; November 20th

Finished; November 21st

Author Note; maybe a part 2? 👀

~~~

Home felt so far away today. It was all you could think about. Your friends, your family... you were supposed to be enjoying today. Not sulking in your girlfriend's empty classroom. Ursula watched you with a frown, the way you slumped at her desk in her chair. She had gone to get some books for her next class. Only to find you, one of the newer teachers to the school.

"Y/N..?" Ursula's voice was soft, her heels clicking as she walked over to you. Setting her books down and running her fingers through your hair. Pulling it behind your ear before cupping your cheek," what's wrong, my love?"

"Missing home..." You murmured and a look of understanding crossed her eyes. That's right. Today was your birthday. It only made sense you would feel this way. She wondered if this was your first birthday away from home, with how you were acting. As far as her knowledge about your past goes, you were homeschooled. You never went to Luna Nova; so becoming a teacher was a pretty big change for you.

Ursula kneels down in front of you, gently turning your chin to look at her. After making sure no students were close, she placed a soft kiss to your lips. Looking into your eyes. "Happy birthday. I know it must be tough but you, Croix and I will do something special tonight. Just for you. You know... Croix may or may not have gotten reservations at your favourite restaurant~" Ursula hinted, which peaked your interest. "You didn't hear that from me, though." Her finger went to her lips as she winked at you.

Ursula knew it was supposed to be a surprise. She couldn't help herself though when she saw you so down. Croix, your other girlfriend, had planned a nice evening for the three of you. At your favourite restaurant, no less. And you couldn't wait.

"Really?" Your eyes lit up as you sat up in Ursula's chair.

"What's this I hear about restaurants? Chariot, you didn't tell them, did you?" Croix walked into the classroom. Hands on her hips as she looked at the two of you, that classic smirk across her lips. It didn't take her long to make the connection of why Ursula had told you. She noticed the lingering sadness behind your eyes. The way Ursula seemed to have been comforting you just moments before. Croix was smart; she knew how to read a room.

"I- um-!" Ursula's face flushed, looking suddenly embarrassed as she looked to the ground. You couldn't help but laugh a bit, resting a comforting hand to her shoulder. Thumb gently rubbing across the fabric of her uniform.

"Oh well, can't be helped now I suppose. Surprise, Y/N. Happy birthday." Croix walked over to the desk. Her hands rested on the surface. She leaned over, placing a kiss to your lips. A little less softer, more rougher than Ursula's had been. But you didn't mind. When the kiss parted, Croix winked at you," there's still plenty of other surprises. So, save your energy. Have some water." With a wave of Croix's wand, a water bottle appeared in her hand. She handed it to you.

Your cheeks immediately brightened, reading between the lines of her words. Oh yeah. You'd need to save your energy...

[gojoshooter]

Homesick Husband: Gojo Satoru

Pairing : unsealed!gojo x wife!y/n

A/N : here's my contribution to the return of our beefy gojo satoru's headcanons! enjoy ^^

WARNINGS : crying, established relationship

Unsealed!Gojo whose first thought after being released is to look for his wife

Unsealed!Gojo who forgets he has powers to teleport, running & stumbling his way home

Wife!y/n who just like the past eighteen days, sits on the dining table resting her head on it as gojo's plate of food get's colder

Unsealed!Gojo who runs his frantic hands all along your body for any sign of hurt or injury

Wife!y/n who mirrors his expression and action with reciprocated feelings

Unsealed!Gojo who pulls you a little too hard towards himself and feels your head bump into his chest

Wife!y/n throwing weak punches anywhere she can on gojo and biting on his biceps

Unsealed!Gojo whispering gentle sorries and promises to never leave again in your ears

Wife!y/n who after a good hour of sobbing into his husband's chest realizes just how buffier his body feels against her

Unsealed!Gojo who realizes his wife has only got skinnier and weaker

Wife!y/n who asks if he'd like his food reheated clearly unable to think how to act in the moment

Unsealed!Gojo who would shake his head with a chuckle as he sits on your seat placing you on his lap instead

Wife!y/n who's still crying so hard she can't chew on her food

Unsealed!Gojo who rubs your back gently and slowly reminding you to take it easy as he offers another spoonful

Wife!y/n refusing to eat anymore of it and burying her face in the crook of the man's neck, taking in the comforting scent she so longed for

Unsealed!Gojo who finishes both their plates with silent tears and a fast asleep wife in his lap

Wife!y/n who unconsciously clutchs the front of his black tshirt as he takes her to their room bridal style

Unsealed!Gojo who puts you and himself in your favourite couple pajamas ready for the bed

Wife!y/n who wakes up crying and shaking profusely in the middle of the night whisper shouting, "please s-satoru, don't be a dream" along her many incoherent words

Unsealed!Gojo who snuggles impossibly close to your fragile figure pressing long assuring kisses on your face and lips knowing they calm you down

Wife!y/n 's futile attempts at scooting away from her husband because this wouldn't have been how he expected her to react

Unsealed!Gojo who only brings your kicking legs together with his thighs, telling you to breathe from your nose before diving in for a particularly long kiss that doesn't end until you're sleep and sound...

A/N : n that's it! hope u liked it ^-^ likes & reblogs are appreciated ♡

Tags : @nanamikentoseyebags @maybekoya @luckimoon

[fuji-sen]

Monachopsis; SAGAU Creator!Reader Headcanon

Monachopsis: the subtle feeling of being out of place.

c/w: angst, homesickness, slight cult genshin impact characters.

synopsis: The adrenaline and excitement had worn off, what replaced it was a sense of detachment and the feeling of homesick-ness slowly building up. No longer feeling joy at being treated like a God in your favorite game, you could only feel that subtle but persistent feeling that you did not belong there coupled with the sadness and grief at your past life.

divider credits: @enchanthings

✨ you wonder how things became like this, perhaps it was because you were constantly detained and kept inside a lavish palace, unable to see the outside world.

✨ or perhaps it was how your acolytes treat you.

✨ they did not harm you, but they might as well have all together.

✨ they treat you so full of devotion and reverence. Their touches stiff and light never holding you for longer than it is necessary, their manner of speech was always formal, never jovial even the bard of Mondstadt had a more serious and deep persona when it came to you.

✨ although their goal was simply to respect you for you were their supposed Creator, that very devotion towards you became the very wall that separated you from them.

✨ you could not get close to them, you could not pass that damned relationship between a Creator and a faithful believer.

✨ Furina had been closed to you at least, perhaps because she understood your plights. However your relationship seemed sinful in the eyes of the other acolyte.

✨ you no longer were able to see the cheerful girl.

✨ Buer or Nahida who's ability to read minds and the hearts of people worked on you, but it seemed she had learned from Fontaine's leader, she did not get close to you, however she left more sincere gifts for you.

✨ handwritten letters, books with annotations, even Aranara's were given to you on the guise of being servants.

✨ speaking of gifts, wealth, gems, lavish furniture, clothes made from the rarest fur and the softest silk had been presented to you. At first it made you overjoyed, to received the things you had long for, to become rich and wealthy.

✨ now seeing the pile of untouched presents all you could feel was cold, it was impersonal really. The clothes did not suit you, the gems and gold were useless for you could not even go out to spend it, the furniture as well for it was too big for you to used by yourself and you lacked the friends to even sit together with and have a chat.

✨ however upon seeing your favor towards the dendro archon's gifts, they tried to follow in suit. Yet their letters were simply filled with compliments of your visage, poems and tales about how great you were, talking about you as if you were a historical person they had studied and were doing a greatly embellished report on but never truly getting to know you.

✨ to fight off the feeling of sadness that began to wallow in you, you asked for them, desperately, "treat me as your friend, if you truly love me as your God then treat me how I want to be treated." you'd say.

✨ they looked at each other, before carefully and hesitantly agreeing.

✨ now you felt guilty, they spend their times on you. Chatting with you, telling you stories.

✨ you feast together, with food made by Xiangling and other characters.

✨ but even as they surround you, their conversations became white noise to you and the food seemed tasteless under your tongue.

✨ you did not feel like you belong among them. especially with that nagging voice in your head, snickering and whispering that 'they aren't your friends, they're just acting like it all because their precious Creator begged them to.'

✨ In the past, or your past life, doing something for yourself, by yourself seemed like a chore. The mundane chores, your job, studying even, but now that seemed like a luxury with the title of God.

✨ they did not ask you to do anything, you did not participate in state of the nation addresses, you could not change laws or fight for the people. . at least they didn't let you.

✨ you could not even clean your own room or dress yourself, Noelle took care of the cleaning, Chiori took care with choosing a set of clothes each day for you to wear like you were a kid and Xiangling did the cooking.

✨ It left you with nothing to do, like you had no purpose other than sitting still and looking pretty like a piece of decoration.

✨ Nobody disagreed with you even, nobody argued with you, they were like yes-men. God you began to miss your parents and siblings, you missed your classmates/coworkers, you missed working, you missed being your own person!

✨ it was beginning to eat you up at this point,

✨ to the point you had became overwhelmed with sadness.

might make a mini-headcanon series for this or an actual series revolving around this idea/angst.

do you want a series like this tho? it'd be heavily angst and might just have a bad ending or good ending.

[4ranghaes]

myung jaehyun x reader [fluff, fem!reader, reader can speak english and korean -> italicised speech from reader is english, rest is assumed to be korean]

a/n - this is COMPLETELY self indulgent cause i feel the most homesick today that i have since arriving in korea

22:42 - “where’s y/n?” sungho asked, tapping jaehyun on the shoulder as the six boys got ready to have their usual weekly movie night. they’d now got used to having your presence beside them too, so as the movie had been decided already, they were wondering where you were.

“i called her. i think she’s in bed still,” jaehyun hummed, already getting up to enter his bedroom, “i’ll get her.”

he opened his bedroom door slowly, wondering if you were asleep still. he saw your figure in the dark, your phone screen lighting up your face between the blankets.

“hey my baby,” jaehyun smiled, walking in and sitting on the bed, flicking on one of the side lights as he did so. he stroked some hair out your face as you turned to look at him, “we’re starting the movie now.”

you sighed, mustering up a smile before responding, “okay! i’ll be out in a second.”

“oh?” jaehyun paused, looking at your melancholy face with concern, “what’s wrong, my love?”

“nothing,” you shook your head, sitting up. your phone fell on the bed beside your body, jaehyun looking at the old pictures of your home country open.

“talk to me,” he murmured, holding your face in his hands, lowering his eyeline to meet yours.

“house-illness,” you spoke, the new language coming across broken as you tried to translate directly, especially with the lump rising in your throat.

“huh?” jaehyun asked, looking between your eyes with worry.

“homesick! jaehyun, i’m homesick!” you cried, tears beginning to fall from your eyes as you chuckled despite yourself, “i love it here so much and i love being with you, but i just– i can’t help it. i miss home so much.”

jaehyun nodded, his learnt english ability carrying him through your words, “i know, my love. i wouldn’t expect anything else, to be honest.”

you nodded, head falling onto his shoulder as he pulled you into his arms, beginning to let it all out. your body shook with sobs, his white t-shirt staining with makeup and tears as he rubbed your back soothingly.

“do you still want to do movie night?” he murmured, kissing your head supportively, “i could get them to change the movie to something you love.”

you drew in a shaky breath, not responding as you dried your tears.

“love actually?” jaehyun offered, “reminds you of home, too.”

you laughed, nodding as you dabbed your face with a tissue before scrunching it up in your hand. you both stood, jaehyun wrapping his arms around you from behind as you shuffled into the living room where the boys cheered at the sight of you, presumably having been pre-warned of your tears from the loud sobs that had come from jaehyun’s room.

“noona! finally!” woonhak smiled.

you chuckled, smiling, “sorry, guys.”

“she’s homesick,” jaehyun said, a sad smile on his face as you finally learnt the word, “so… i was wondering if to cheer her up, we could change to love actually?”

“of course!” taesan exclaimed, “i love that film!”

“me too,” sungho smiled.

“we already got your favourite snacks too,” riwoo said, motioning to the display of various snacks on the table, your new favourites among them.

“wow!” jaehyun gasped over-dramatically, moving the two of you forward, “go on, sit, i’ll get you a drink.”

“it’s okay, i’m going to the kitchen anyway,” woonhak shrugged, already stood up as he pushed jaehyun to sit next to you.

jaehyun chuckled, as you laid your head on his shoulder. you watched as taesan held the remote, changing over to netflix and queuing up love actually.

you sniffled, “thank you, guys. it means a lot.”

jaehyun’s arm wrapped around you as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, woonhak returning with your drink and taesan pressing play.

[imsofreakingtired]

sevika x korean reader

(aka the most self indulgent hc list i will ever write that probably no one will read lol)

compARING HAND SIZES AS FLIRTING DFKJDSKDJ

south korean beauty standards are rough as hell. sometimes you get insecure about the shape of your face, your nose, and wonder seriously if you should get plastic surgery. when you tell her, she takes your chin in her hand and tilts your face up to look you in the eye. "the face you have now is the face i fell in love with. don't change it."

you whisper all your deepest feelings to her in korean so often that she understands and replies “i love you too” in accented korean and instead of giggling you correct her pronunciation to tease her (your heart's melting on the inside) "it's NA-DO SA-LANG-HAE." "bitch-- i tried."

you call her “sevika 오빠” (oppa, “older brother”, the korean equivalent of “daddy”) when you’re feeling coy and want to make her flustered, but usually “언니” (unnie, “older sister”, affectionate term a younger woman uses for an older woman)

other things you call her in korean: "네 강아지" (my puppy) "멋있어" (handsome) "자기야" (babe) "바��" (dummy) (your favorite)

you never do aegyo to anyone but her, she pretends to hate it but always snickers when you pull the "pretend to get something from your pocket and shoot her with a hand heart" move

you teach her every conceivable korean curse word and she memorizes them at a genius pace. whenever she drops something or burns her hand you hear her whisper “ssibal” (fuck) in the most perfect non-accented korean and you lose it every time

taking long walks beside the han river, watching the cars pass by on the bridge and the glimmer of seoul 

picnicking in the mountains and feeding her kimbap (she will not eat it unless you hold it out to her like she’s a little kid)

she’s also obsessed w shin ramyeon like every time you go grocery shopping she just throws like three packs of those spicy instant noodles into the cart 

she also loves kbbq and insists on grilling the meat herself because she supposedly knows the “secret” to making perfectly grilled samgyeopsal

if she's drunk enough on soju she will consent to you dragging her into a private karaoke room. she sings like a professional but claims to remember nothing the next morning, so you desperately wish you had recorded her.

she will never be caught dead taking one of those cute couple pictures at touristy locations but when you ask her to take pictures of you she takes the job as seriously as if she’s a professional photographer

you manage to drag her into a photo booth once. just once

she tries on men’s hanbok and OH MY GOD 

the neighborhood kids love her like they jump around calling her “sevika 이모” (ee-mo, auntie sevika) and want to hang on her arm and tell her to flex her arm to feel the muscle, they follow her around and she sometimes gives them melon candy if she happens to have some in her pocket

swears she does not cry at k-dramas. she cries at k-dramas. 

also swears she does not like k-pop songs but then you hear her playing "antifragile" while working out

CAFE DATES CAFE DATES 

once had to hold you back from beating the absolute shit out of a guy who said a racist comment to her. you beat him up anyway. 

figures out the complicated-ass subway system after two tries. this amazes you to no end. she knows exactly when to get off and where to transfer trains even though every announcement is in korean or japanese. 

on rainy days: she holds the umbrella as you walk down the backstreets of seoul, watching the water slide off the leaves and listening to the lonely calls of cicadas, your arm wrapped around her waist, leaning on her shoulder.

...yea,,,, sevika x korean reader....... ...

divider by @cafekitsune !

[tetzoro]

kuroo is just so beside himself whenever he’s on a business trip and has to lay down for the night. how could he sleep when you’re not there curled by his side? securely tucked into his embrace? sneaking in just one more goodnight kiss?

all he can do is toss and turn, trying to find someway to get comfortable. hugging the pillow feels like a insult, using them to drown out the world doesn’t help either. his hands itch to run along your sides, fingers dying to caress your face, legs restless without your limbs to weave into, lips begging to press against your forehead.

the only thing that helps take the edge off, even just a little, is facetiming you. kuroo needs to see you. to hear your steady breaths throughout the night, the soft snores you adamantly refuse to admit you let out.

you’re his greatest comfort and when he’s away from home — away from you, he feels so lost. propping you up on the pillow beside him in the far too big, disgustingly empty bed brings him a fraction of what he’s yearning for. it soothes something deep inside of him and allows him to finally wind down for the day.

in a matter of moments, he’s fast asleep, content smile on his face as he counts down the days until he can hold you closely in his arms again.

[filmstarved]

have we discussed doesn't know how to handle emotions but can't help but being altruistic when it comes to you logan???

word count: 1,047

info desk: gn!reader, emerging friendship, insinuates possible bed sharing, logan is an awkward cutie that just wants to help

it's late at night at gifted youngsters, halls are eerily quiet and logan can't sleep again. he's entertaining himself with the prestigious knickknacks and photos arranged around the mansion. as he meanders to his dorm, he initially walks past your door but hears a strange noise from inside. he stops and comically backs up to get closer to the sound, pressing an ear gently on the door.

you're sobbing. logan can't tell if you're that upset or if it sounds loud because of how quiet everything else is. part of him wants to just give you space and check on you at breakfast but he can't. he can't ignore the only person who has consistently showed him kindness and grace since they've been here. he lifts his fist to knock with his pointer finger knuckle but hesitates and withdraws before lifting it again.

knock...knock...knock

the sound of your sobs halt and he feels awkward now. there's a shuffling inside and he can see from under the door that you've clicked a lamp on. he can also see your shadow as you approach the door slowly.

"it's me...y'okay?" he asks, kind of wishing he wasn't the one that had to walk past your door at this moment. but alas.

you open the door slightly. it's dim but through the crack you've allowed, he can see that your eyes are wet and you're sniffling.

"hi logan, thanks for checking in...'m alright. goodnight," you say rushed and hushed. before you can close the door, his boot is wedged in it.

"you're not though. let me in for a minute," he says, almost in a beg that nearly shocks him internally.

you open up, letting him step into your melancholic cave. he plops down on the edge of the bed next to your tear stained pillow. logan can feel the awkward tension between someone who was just caught crying and someone who'd rather not be the one to ask why.

he pats the mattress beside him and you take the seat.

"gonna tell me why you're boo-hooing at two in the morning?" he asked cautiously, eyeing your profile in hopes to read the severity of your trouble.

"just feeling homesick is all...not used to being here yet i guess. haven't been sleeping well either and with trainings and the professor...i just...i don't know," you explained, throwing your hands up exasperatedly in the air and dropping them in your lap. "i guess i'm just ov–"

"overwhelmed," logan finished. "yeah, i felt similar my very first day here, heh." he could see that his words weren't really helping or hurting but he felt...happy that you even let him in. "but hey, it gets easier. trust me."

you started to sob again which instilled panic within your usually feral friend. his eyes widened and his hands reached out to physically comfort you but he voted against that and quickly scrambled for the tissue box on your nightstand.

"did i say something wrong?" logan asked as he followed your puffy eyes with his.

"no...no you just...," you started, looking upon his concerned gaze. "you remind me of home." a smile cracked through your frown and matched the one that now sat on his lips.

"well...i've never heard that one before," he said, patting your thigh and using it to push himself to his feet. a heat rose to his face and he quickly moved to the dim doorway to hide his blush. "you'll, uh, *clears throat* get a hang of things around here soon. promise."

"logan."

"yeah?"

"will you stay with me?" you ask, sheepishly. "not in my bed, of course...i mean...unlessyouwantto...but i don't have a roommate yet and it gets kind of...spooky in here." you chuckled, remembering how you got scared the other night from the shadowed silhouette of the coat rack in the corner.

"uhh...," logan struggled for words.

"it's totally okay if not, i know it's probably a weird ask," you sniffled.

"no it's not that...it's just...i have this lavender spray that storm let me have and it's become ritualistic that i use it on my pillow before i sleep...i've also been having trouble. i have to go get it and then yeah, i'll stay in here with you."

"okay," you nodded, already feeling a sense of ease and safety wash over you. "i'd like some of that, too." you laugh, feeling the wet tears become dry stains on your cheeks.

"oh, i know, bub," he laughs, slipping through the door to quickly retrieve the sleep aide.

a/n: hii! i was having a not so good day yesterday and a shitty morning today and my brain conjured up this delusion to help me get through it because of course it did and i figured i'd share it with y'all! thanks for reading!! xx

[aventurineswife]

could i request aventurine with a homesick g/n reader? in the sense that they are from a different planet and are either visiting/living in penacony. i think it’d be interesting considering how aventurine might relate to their situation.

Home is not a place, it’s a feeling

Summary: Aventurine finds himself drawn to you as you struggle with homesickness, feeling the weight of longing for your home planet while living in Penacony. As your sense of loss grows, Aventurine, who understands the pain of displacement and survivor’s guilt, offers a form of quiet support. Through small, thoughtful gestures and shared vulnerabilities, he helps guide you through your emotional struggle, while also confronting his own buried fears and regrets.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Homesickness, Emotional Support, Mutual Vulnerability, Internal Conflict, Subtle Romance, Hurt/Comfort.

Warnings: Themes of homesickness and isolation, Mentions of survivor’s guilt and trauma, Emotional angst, Mild manipulation (in terms of comfort, not malice), Subtle, slow-building romance.

The light of Penacony’s moon streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Aventurine’s lavish suite, casting fractured beams of light across the opulent room. You sat curled in a corner of the velvet chaise, knees drawn to your chest, staring out at the sprawling cityscape. Penacony was beautiful—its vibrant nightlife, radiant architecture, and bustling markets—but it wasn’t home.

A sigh escaped your lips as the glow of your home planet, so far away, weighed heavy on your heart. You missed the simple things: the scent of rain on your streets, the taste of your local delicacies, the way the sun dipped below familiar horizons. Being here, surrounded by decadence and strangers, only seemed to amplify your longing.

“You know,” Aventurine’s smooth, lilting voice broke the quiet, “I’ve seen a thousand starscapes, but there’s a certain sadness in how they all start to look the same.”

You glanced up to find him leaning casually against the doorway, his hair catching the moonlight. Dressed in his usual blend of ostentation and elegance, with his overcoat draped over his shoulders, Aventurine looked every bit the enigmatic gambler he was. But there was something in his expression tonight—something softer, quieter—that made you pause.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, strolling toward you. The faint scent of his cologne, something sharp yet sweet, lingered as he perched on the armrest of your chaise.

You shook your head. “Just… thinking.”

“Ah,” he said, his eyes narrowing slightly as if reading between the lines. “Thinking about home, aren’t you?”

The knot in your chest tightened. “Yeah,” you admitted softly. “I miss it. Everything here is so… different.”

Aventurine tilted his head, his smile faint but warm. “Homesickness is a peculiar kind of ache, isn’t it? It’s not just missing a place—it’s missing a piece of yourself that only exists there.”

You blinked at him, surprised. “You get homesick?”

He chuckled, the sound low and wistful. “Sometimes. Though ‘home’ is a rather abstract concept for me. Sigonia wasn’t exactly a paradise.” His tone was light, almost dismissive, but his gaze drifted to the window, and you caught a flicker of something—pain, perhaps, or nostalgia.

“Still,” he continued, “there are moments I’d give anything to feel the desert wind on my face again. To hear my mother’s voice calling me in for supper or to watch my sister’s silly little dances under the sun. Even knowing I can’t go back, the memories… they stick with you, don’t they?”

You swallowed hard, the rawness of his words resonating deeply. “Yeah,” you murmured. “They do.”

Aventurine leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he studied you. “You know,” he said after a moment, “there’s a trick to homesickness.”

“Oh?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He grinned, a flash of his usual bravado returning. “You carry it with you. All the things you miss—the smells, the tastes, the sounds—you find ways to recreate them. Here, there, anywhere. You make your own little pockets of home, no matter how far you’ve wandered.”

Your lips quirked into a small smile. “That’s… surprisingly practical advice for someone like you.”

Aventurine placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “Darling, I’ll have you know I’m full of wisdom—when the occasion calls for it.” His playful tone softened as he added, “Besides, I know what it’s like to feel untethered. And I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

His sincerity caught you off guard, and for a moment, the ache in your chest eased. “Thanks, Aventurine,” you said quietly.

He waved a hand dismissively. “Think nothing of it. Now, let’s make a deal.”

“A deal?” you echoed, narrowing your eyes.

He leaned closer, his grin widening. “I’ll help you make Penacony feel a little more like home—find the right food, music, scents, whatever you need. In return, you’ll owe me a favor.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Of course, there’s a catch.”

“There’s always a catch,” he teased, his eyes sparkling mischievously. “But trust me, darling—it’s worth the gamble.”

For the first time in days, the weight of homesickness didn’t feel quite so heavy. Maybe, just maybe, Aventurine’s gamble was one you were willing to take.

[dragonzfanfics11]

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~☆☆☆☆About me!!☆☆☆☆~

pronouns- she/her but don't mind other pronouns :3

Sexualaty- I'm am a proud bisexual 🩷💜💙

hobbies- writing (obviously), drawing, and im even slowly coming up with my own story!!

I enjoy writing my silly character x reader fics and posting my art here on tumbler I'm so happy yall like my blog >:3

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School bus graveyard

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[mysunshinetemptress]

Coal

Leah Williamson x singer!reader

Warnings: TW suicide, past abuse, child abuse, alcohol abuse, funeral. If I missed anything let me know. Also thank you to @pers1st for first of all listening to my idea and telling me to write it when I had my doubts about it and secondly for reading over it and helping me, I hope it doesn’t disappoint

You knew the minute he didn’t answer the phone and the unnerving feeling of dread filled your chest that this was it, that you were the last man standing from a life you thought you had both out run, out lived but this, what your brother had just done showed that no matter where you went, how fast you ran you couldn’t leave the sick and twisted past you both had lived through it was a heavy bag you would be forced to carry for the rest of your life.

You and your brother Luca had been born twins in a quite little, middle of nowhere town in New England to a mother who would end up leaving you both in the middle of the night with a heavily abusive father, who would never be charged for the unthinkable things he had inflicted on both you and your brother as he was to high in the police force in your stupid little town, best friends with the Chief had some perks it seemed.

You and your brother had grown up constantly relying on one another to get through the hard terrifying nights, where all you both could wish for was for someone to whisk you both away from it all but this is the real world and the only people who could save you from the nightmare was yourselves.

You had a talent that you had only discovered when you where 13 after a teacher had approached you hearing you singing in the hall, before asking if you wanted to join the choir, you began thinking an extra hour away from home wouldn’t be so bad agreeing only on the lines that Luca could come and sit in the pews as you practiced not wanting to leave him alone to face your fathers abuse alone.

As you both got older you found ways to escape through singing and music, Luca taught himself the piano and you learned guitar before teaching the instruments to each other before you both began recording videos of yourselves and posting them to YouTube while also beginning to write your own songs.

It would take till just after your 19th birthday for both you and Luca to make it out of that stupid little town in New England, both of you deciding to get as far away as possible flying to London England just as your first ever song written by you and produced by Luca blew up “Homesick.” Loving the way stories could so easily be told through country music you decide that it would be the genre you both would focus on, you writing and performing and Luca writing and producing stating he was much to bad of a singer to ever try.

Living in London was a cultural shock for you both coming from a quite town to a big bustling city sure was a change but you couldn’t help but enjoy the fact that not everyone here knew everyone and that you both got to start fresh.

Your label had rented a small two bed apartment for you both in Islington, just north of Central London where you both set up a small studio from the equipment supplied to you both and began working on an EP.

The EP was called Horizons both you and Luca had looked out on a same horizon every morning your entire childhood and hoped it would bring about change, only when you left to London did your Horizons change and so did your life finding it fitting you brought it to your label along with six songs on the EP one of which had already been released as a single.

Horizon

Track 1: Homesick

Track 2: Northern Attitude

Track 3: False Confidence

Track 4: Heavy Eyes

Track 5: Heading South

Track 6: Something in the Orange

Your label loved it approving a date that saw you and Luca able to preform at Country to Country in the O2, with your small set and unknown names your both were one of the first to perform, but feeling the rush of the crowd just after leaving the stage singing songs you both had written about parts of your childhood and leaving it behind felt magical and the crowd seemed to love it.

But that night wasn’t just the night you had both agreed that this is what you wanted to do, it was also the night you swore you found a four leaf clover. Leah had been standing in the crowd with Lydia Williams both big country music fans when she felt her breath hitch in her throat at the sight of you. You stood on stage in a simple pair of black jeans, white top with some red writing she couldn’t make out and a guitar smiling at the boy at the piano before nodding to the band and when you began singing Leah swore she had felt her heart stop from how quick it was beating.

You and Luca had made your way down to the crowd Luca nudging you saying he was going to get a drink as you nodded making your way to stand at the back keeping an eye on him as a blonde girl strutted over to you ever so confidently “Hi.” You turned taking your eyes off of Luca as you turned meeting deep blue eyes “Hi.” You smiled back “I’m Leah.” You grasped her hand shaking it your cheeks beginning to hurt from smiling at the blonde-Leah “hi I’m Y/n.” You didn’t notice that Leah seemed to forget to let go of your hand as you both began talking the English girl complementing your set as you complemented her outfit.

Luca turned back from the bar after downing yet another shot and beer looking to see where you had gone chuckling at the sight of you talking happily to a girl still holding her hand, sighing he grabbed three more beers and began walking over to you before clearing his throat and putting on a stern face “Y/n.” You unhappily tore your eyes away from Leah turning to see Luca “Luca this is Leah, Leah this is my twin brother Luca.” Leah’s shoulders seemed to relax at the confirmation he was in fact your brother and not your boyfriend “Beer.” You smiled thanking him before letting go of Leah’s hand and taking it before turning to look at him in surprise as he handed one to Leah “what can’t let your future girlfriend be left out of it can I.” You shoved him slightly as Leah choked on the beer coughing slightly as you apologised rubbing her back. Leah stood up shaking her head “well I better ask you out first then.” You laughed nodding agreeing to give her your phone number before saying goodnight and walking back behind the stage.

In the coming months yourself and Luca travelled promoting your EP both in the Uk and Europe as well as in the States refusing to step foot in New England just incase your father decided to show up, during this small tour you and Leah began talking nonstop either texting or FaceTiming and although Luca wanted to throw a pen at your head and tell you that there was an album that had to be written he couldn’t help but smile at the way your eyes lit up and your entire mood changed when the English girls name appeared on your phone.

Once the small tour was over and you had settled back into London, Leah had worked up enough nerve to officially ask you on a date. You had bid Luca goodnight telling him to not wait up as you ventured into Central London with the blue eyed girl excitement building for your date.

London was everything you ever wanted, you and Leah had been dating for a few months now and not wanting to keep secrets you had sat her down and told her everything, everything about how your mother had decided she couldn’t take it anymore and left both you and Luca stood crying on the porch step as you watched her run down the driveway aged four in the middle of the night, how your fathers abuse only got worse from that point, how as you got older you both felt so hopeless as no one would do anything as he was a police officer and best friend to the Chief of police, how he thought he could change you from being gay when he saw you walking holding another girls hand. Leah had sat eyes pooled with tears grasping your hand so tightly as you told her eyes racking your body and zoning in on every little scare she could see before pulling you into a hug “I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry Angel you don’t…you didn’t deserve any of that.” You didn’t cry but simply went limp against her as you felt the weight be lifted off your shoulders now that she knew, Luca had come in a short while later and Leah had moved you off her gently before grabbing him and pulling him into a hug, you watched eyes soft as your heart swelled they way she held him just as tight apologising for his trauma too, trauma she had never inflicted but felt so sick that no one in your town would help you both to scared of the consequences.

You had called Leah your four leafed clover, she was the luckiest thing you had ever found and while your relationship grew and your introduction to both her family and teammates saw that Luca turned to alcohol more than he ever had before.

You were both working on your first album when you had noticed how bad Lucas dependency on alcohol had gotten, writing songs often turned into nights you had to put him to bed he was to drunk to continue, or he wouldn’t show for meetings with the label, or dinner with you and Leah, or Leah’s family to busy sitting in a bar in London. You had called the label after a particularly bad day at one of Leah’s games at the Emirates, where your brother spent the entire match inside at the bar since he couldn’t drink alcohol in view of the pitch, drunk and moody you bid the Williamson’s goodbye apologising for your brother and sending Leah a quick text before dragging him home. The next morning you decided enough was enough and sat him down surprised when he broke down in your arms apologising over and over again that it was the only way he could find peace from it all even for just a few hours, that music simply wasn’t enough at the moment and in a way you understood, Leah gave you the same peace alcohol gave Luca but you knew it wasn’t a healthy option so you gave him an ultimatum, rehab and therapy or no more music, no more writing no more tours nothing. Agreeing to your ultimatum you rang your label telling them that the Album was on hold till Luca was healthy again before dropping him off.

You spent the month Luca was in rehab leaning on Leah and her family’s support, you had told them about yours and Lucas past the same day you dropped him off, and for the first time you knew what it was like to be loved by a mother and father. You cried into Leah’s chest that night until you fell asleep,nothing she said or did could make you stop and she quickly realised you needed this you needed to cry so she let you holding you tight and just reminding you of where you were, with her, with her family both you and Luca were safe. Amanda came up after you had fallen asleep to check on you her own heart breaking at the sight of you, you a girl who had the worst childhood imaginable handed to her and still found away to find love and make her daughter feel so loved, you a girl who was trying desperately to hold everything together for her brother because “he needs me, I’m fine I’ve got Leah but he, Luca needs me to be strong so strong is what I am.” Amanda placed her hand on your head “she’ll be ok Bubs, they both will, we got them.”

Luca had been allowed a visit half way through his rehab, the Williamson’s had all asked if they could come but his sponsor Danny had said it may be to overwhelming and asked for it to just be you, that didn’t stop them from waiting in the car park as you went in to visit him. He was different, brighter, happier and you almost cried at the sight for the first time ever he looked to be enjoying life not just trying to get by. You had ran straight for him sighing as you picked you up into a bear hug squeezing tight “Orlov.” You sighed relaxing into his arms at the use of your nickname.

Orlov a diamond, a cursed diamond and any time you tried to ask him why he had chosen it for you all those years ago he gave you one of two reason “Orlov, a cursed diamond that still shines through it all.” Or “Orlov, because pressure makes diamonds, and I just like the name of that one.” You laughed at the second slightly poetic but still funny just like him.

You had told him how supportive the Williamson’s had been for the both of you, how they were currently sat in the parking lot waiting for an update on him when he grabbed your hand “I’m glad you found people like them, to look after you.” You squeezed his hand “us, look after us they love you just as much.” Lucas didn’t want to believe you but you knew he did deep down, he knew it wasn’t just you that loved him anymore. You proceeded to tell him about you current life as a wag as well about the many songs you had been writing, some of them about your past, but for the first time ever you had also written about love and being in love with Leah. Lucas had told you he had also returned to writing and had a few stacked up ready to go when he was finished and for the first time he seemed happy about what he had written normally you had to tell him it was good, recording worthy and you couldn’t help the hope that bubbled.

15 days later Lucas got out of rehab with his therapy sessions block booked for the next while and for the first time in two months you guys began writing songs together trying to complete the album. Lucas was a changed man, he went to dinner without alcohol something you also did to support him, he attended Leah’s matches with you and actually watched and cheered instead of hiding in the bar and for the first time he seemed to be living.

Leah and her family had supported you both tirelessly and you couldn’t have asked for more, they were the family you had always wished would come and save you both as kids. Leah was around for nearly all of the album creation, Lucas teaching her piano and when he finally deemed her good enough you both agreed she could record it for the album.

Life was good, you both were happy in London writing and hanging out with friends and your found family so why had you woken up in the middle of the night with a feeling of doom looming over you as you untangled from Leah. You had gone into Lucases room to check on him something you had done since you could walk, wanting to make sure his chest would still rise and fall when your father had given you both a particularly hard beating. Only this time his bed was empty, walking into the hall you noticed all the lights were off so where could he be. You decided not to panic and not to wake Leah either instead getting your phone to call him.

You knew the minute he didn’t answer the phone and the unnerving feeling of dread filled your chest that this was it, that you were the last man standing from a life you thought you had both out run, out lived but this, what your brother had just done showed that no matter where you went, how fast you ran you couldn’t leave the sick and twisted past you both had lived through it was a heavy bag you would be forced to carry for the rest of your life.

As you recounted every move you both had made over the past three months it was obvious, Lucas had been getting all his ducks in a row, checking in on everyone and making sure the album was complete before leaving, but now it was done and set to be released next month he felt it was time.

You felt numb as you sat at the bottom of the stairs, you didn’t know how you knew he was gone, but you had all of a sudden just had the feeling of a missing piece, maybe it was your twin telepathy you both had so wished to have growing up, this was a sick joke if it kicked in now, now when he was gone.

You sat at the bottom of the stairs until you felt Leah’s hand touch your shoulder “Orlov.” Your heart clenched at the nickname, Lucas had given Leah special permission to use it, certain that she wasn’t going anywhere that you had her forever the engagement ring hidden in his dresser, not that you knew, certain that she knew about what you had been through, that she understood the meaning behind your nickname.

You didn’t have time to react as a knock came from your front door, looking at Leah smiling sadly you got up from the stairs and opened the door to two police men “Miss Y/n Y/ln.” You nodded, you didn’t feel Leah come up behind you as you listen to the police officers tell you about your brother, that you needed to identify him before they moved forward. You nodded along to it all before you asked “was he…do you think he was in any pain.” The officer looked at you softly “Hypothermia kicked in before he drowned, he simply closed his eyes and was gone, no pain, no struggle.” You nodded “no pressure.” You mumbled before turning to get dressed.

Leah couldn’t believe it, he was gone, Lucas was gone a boy she loved like a brother and she couldn’t understand why, he was happy, you both were happy with them, writing the album why, why had he done it. She had gone with you to the morgue and had said she would call her mum but every time she tried her fingers froze on the call button and words got caught in her throat. It was you who had done it driving you both to the Williamson’s house Leah unable to look at her family as you asked them all to come to the living room Leah sat beside you head buried into your neck as she grasped you tightly scared that if she let you go you would be gone too.

Amanda had let out a sob as you finished, Jacob got up and left the room and David just stared at you in shock as you held Leah impossibly closer watching this family, your family, Lucases family fall apart at the news, helpless you did what you had done since childhood and decided now was the time for you to stay strong, you could cry later and so you helped with dinner, helped tell the rest of the family, cousins, aunts and uncles and Leah’s grandparents who had adopted you both. The Arsenal girls had been informed all of whom made their way to your house along with the Williamson’s with flowers and food enough to stock the fridge for the next two months offering support and tears for you and your brother

In the coming weeks the Williamson’s helped you plan the funeral, you didn’t know how one went let alone one in England and you often found yourself and David talking to the undertakers for hours organising it. Until finally the day came, everyone had stayed in your house the night before and Amanda had started a big fry before you all headed to the church but you couldn’t eat, you were saying good bye to your brother, your other half, you were about to walk this stupid life alone and for the first time you cursed at him, you both had made it this far why, why did he decide he couldn’t take it anymore.

Leah had held your hand the entire way both of you following the coffin, with Amanda as Jacob, and David along with Leah’s cousins and Danny his sponsor carried him into the church. You got up and said a few words, talking briefly about your childhood before thanking the Williamson’s for everything they had done for you both, thanking Leah for being both you and Lucases rock when you felt like the world was to much. Heading to the crematorium you decided to swap out with one of Leah’s cousins wanting to carry your brother one last time, the sight made Leah sob as Amanda tried to hold her whispering into her ear, but nothing came of it you were saying goodbye to everything you ever knew and all she could do was hold your hand.

After it was all said and done and the after in the pub had finished you found yourself standing in the centre of his bedroom Leah lying asleep in yours. You looked at everything he had, all the pictures his rehab tokens, his guitar and piano, how were you supposed to do this without him, sing without him there beside you, live without him there beside you. You fell back onto his bed reaching your hand under his pillow when it made a crunch noise before finding a letter with your name on it “ORLOV”. You sighed knowing what it was you pulled it open.

Orlov,

I’m gone, I have left you on this earth alone and for that I am truly sorry, I’m sorry that I couldn’t fight any longer but I hope you understand how tired I am. Tired of living this lonely unforgiving life and I hope that someday you will understand, you have have been, my rock, my best friend and my twin sister through the hardest life no child should have to live, But you have come through it stronger, you have come through the it all a diamond in the rough. You see you are a diamond, formed under the pressure of our childhood but me, I am coal a dark rock not meant to last long on this earth.

I hope you know I have decided that now is the right time to say goodbye as I know you are going to be ok, you have the Williamson’s, the Arsenal and most importantly Leah. She is it for you, she is the only person you will ever need, she is your alcohol (bad comparison I know, she’s a lot healthier.) you are ready, ready to take on this life and conquer the world, but remember it’s ok to slip as long as you don’t fall.

One question you always asked me growing up was what did I think heaven looked like and I always told you I don’t know, but I do heaven is watching you fall in love with that girl sleeping in your room, watching you find a family who loves you the way you deserve that is heaven I love you always and forever.

I’ll be watching from stars Orlov .

Lucas TB

For the first time in weeks you cried, no you sobbed gut wrenching sobs and Leah found herself sprinting from your bed room catching you as you fell from the bed holding you tight whispering reassuring words into your ear crying along with you as you cried and cried, cried for your younger self, you cried for your current self but mostly your cried for him, for Lucas until you cried your self to sleep. Leah carried you back to bed before coming back into Lucases room and picking up his letter turning it over and finding a second one attached to it, opening it she found lyrics to a song and reading over it she felt her heart clench at the meanings behind them all.

The next morning Leah showed you the lyrics and before she even had time to ask if you wanted a coffee you were on the phone with your label canceling the album instead stating you had a different one.

Leah watched you tirelessly in the studio scared that if she left you alone in there you might never come back out, regretting her decision when you had dragged her in to record a piano piece.

A month later you handed your label a brand new album written mostly about you and Lucas with track six being for Leah, the label loved it and pushed for it to be released sooner than expected.

ORLOV

Track 1 Stick Season

Track 2 Bitter Winds

Track 3 Condemned

Track 4 Revival

Track 5 I Remember Everything (Lucas Y/LN, feat Y/n Y/LN)

Track 6 Sun to Me

Track 7 Dawns (Lucas Y/LN, feat Y/n Y/LN)

Track 8 Tourniquet (feat Leah Williamson.)

Track 9 Orange Juice

Track 10 Coal

With Leah's unwavering support, you found the strength to honor Lucases memory during the small tour you quickly been sent on leaving the grand piano seat empty until Leah came on to play her part in Tourniquet. You decided to end the small tour in London, your first headline show sold out at the roundhouse already playing five previous dates here due to the demand. Knowing this would be the last time of playing a small venue and with that a chapter closing and you having to enter one without Lucas you sighed retuning the guitar as you spoke to the crowd “My twin brother Lucas wrote this last song I’m about to play.” You cleared your throat looking out into the crowd before turning to the empty piano seat “We had a very hard childhood, but I knew as long as I had him, I’d be ok. Lucas left me on this earth alone just a couple months ago, but he knew something I didn’t, he knew I wasn’t really going to be alone, that I had a family that loved me, a girl who loved me even more and that really he wasn’t leaving he was just tired of his adventures on earth and wanted to see what the stars were like.” You sighed turning back to the crowd “this next song is called coal, and it talks about the pressures of life and I just want you all to know that when you feel like life is to full of pressure that when you can’t seem to find the light at the end of the tunnel that maybe look down you might find your four leaved clover, I got mine she’s in the crowd tonight, but there is always someone nobody here is alone.” You smiled catching Leah’s eyes “this is Coal.”

[fallenprophets]

How can I make it OK?

Arthur Morgan x reader

PART 1 🌀 PART 2

Summary : you're homesick.

gender neutral reader, no use of y/n, not explicitly romantic unless you wanna read it that way, 3K words

Warnings : swearing, mentions of suicide, panic attack described in semi detail, not the jolliest thing i've ever written

A/N : first post that's actually writing in 2025 ! wrote most of this on the train while listening to house in nebraska by ethel cain and more than this by wolf alice so yeah. also this isn't arthur heavy in the sense that it's reader rambling about being homesick mostly. to be read in a southern accent as god intended

Of all the places I have travelled with the Van Der Linde gang, I think this is my least favourite. 

Living- or rather, camping- in the ruins of some plantation, bodies of the former owners stagnating in the pond. Sometimes I hear ‘em- the ghosts, in the walls, screamin’. I know it’s my mind, playing tricks on me; but it’s harder to have that rational thought when you’re lying alone in the middle of the night, wind whistling through broken windows. It’s not that I don’t like having a roof over my head. Shit, everyone in this godforsaken gang is happy to have a real shelter from the weather, even one as flimsy as this house. So I shut my mouth, hunt as I’m expected-which is what I am doing now, borrowed bow over my shoulder, quiver resting comfortingly between my shoulder blades. 

Hunting is familiar. Back in the Grizzlies, where my daddy raised me, we’d go out any time of day, in any weather, hunt for the coming storms. I’d do everything the way he taught me to- lay out traps, wait behind a boulder, bow in hand. It builds patience, he told me when I asked why the hell we didn’t just track the damn animal, instead of waitin’ in the cold for it to find us. 

Now, it’s not cold, and dear old daddy ain’t here to help. 

I left my horse hitched by a lake, with enough grass for him to be fed and well until I bring back something worthy of Pearson. It’s near sunrise; already, the heat is uncomfortable; my skin is sticky, my clothes uncomfortable. It’s moments like these that I long for the snow. 

I wipe my forehead with the back of my head. I’ve been walking for a little while now, waiting for a pack of deer to pass by. There’s something that bothers me about killing them- maybe it’s their eyes, so big and brown, caught frozen as they stare at you. Or maybe it’s their resemblance to this little girl I knew, at a local village at the base of the mountain where I grew up. 

I shake the thought of her big brown eyes and twitchy nose as I spot a herd of ‘em, grazing near a small stream. There’s enough light for me to count them- seven, big enough to feed us. 

I get on one knee, like my daddy taught me. Notch an arrow in the bow, pull it back. One of the poor animals raises its head, looks in my direction. 

Before I can hesitate, I let go, and the arrow flies; a fraction of a second later, it has notched itself in the animal’s throat. It falls; its friends, the rest of its herd (its gang, I think, almost laughing) scamper off, into the woods. I don’t go after them. Pearson will have to do with this, and whatever herbs or mushrooms I’m able to pick up. 

The doe is dead by the time I reach her. I kneel. Pull the arrow from her neck; thick, sticky blood gets on my hands. I almost reach for snow, to clean it off; curse myself when my fingertips meet grass and mud. The doe’s dead eye stares up at me, brown and empty as the sky. I resist the urge to close them. 

“Sorry, sweet.” I whisper it as I hoist her up, put her over my shoulder. She’s heavy. I must be getting blood on my shirt- it’s a shame, because it’s my favourite colour, and I’ve just bought it. 

I swallow any regrets I feel as I walk back to my horse, the weight of the doe uncomfortable against my bow and quiver. 

You’re the reason she won’t come home, a little voice whispers in my head. I stop, then, because my chest is tightening and I can’t really breathe. I say something incoherent. The fields around me are empty- it’s just me and this doe. 

I drop her into the mud and loosen my shirt, gasping for air. I want cold, I want crisp mountain air; not this thick, humid, barely-air that clogs my throat and makes my lungs heavy. 

I dig my fingers into the mud and grass, as I would have done in the snow, back home. Home. What a weird thought. I catch the dead doe’s eye again, and that’s when the tears come, thick and hot and nasty, blurring my vision. So stupid, I think, as I force myself to stare at her. She- no, it- is just an animal. She doesn’t have a home, not the way I did. Do. 

I think of crying out for help, but that’s pathetic, and I’m a lot of things, but pathetic ain’t one of them. 

I think I stay there, on my knees, fingers deep in the mud, for a long time- when my vision clears again and I’ve stopped gasping for air, the sky is clear, clear blue, no traces of sunrise left. If I focus hard enough on it, I can almost pretend I’m back in the mountains. 

I get up, teeth digging into my tongue to prevent any new feelings from resurfacing. I’m not in the goddamn mountains. All that’s left for me there is two frozen bodies deep beneath the snow, and a hut that’s probably been raided or taken over by some other gang. 

I pick the doe up, this time careful to avoid looking at her face. Its face. It’s an animal, not my goddamn sister. 

I make it back to my horse without another incident; strap the doe across his back and climb onto his saddle. His name is Coal, ‘cause of the colour o’ him- black and charcoal grey, a streak of white down his face. 

“Hey, boy,” I murmur to him as I flick the reigns. My voice is shaky, hoarse; it’s obvious that I’ve been crying. 

Coal begins to trot back to camp. I think of changing direction, of going to Rhodes, clear my thoughts. But I gotta bring this back to Pearson, or he’ll skin me. 

The camp is still there when I return, which is a relief. I don’t think I’ll forget the moment when I came back after a hunt and found everyone gone, everything burned to the ground. 

I shiver at the memory and get off Coal. “I’ll come ‘nd fix your saddle later,” I say to him, scratching his neck. He grunts, in a tone I hope is affectionate. I remove the doe, put her back over my shoulder. Make it to Pearson’s stand, where he’s angrily chopping vegetables. 

“Hey,” I say, dropping the doe in front of him. I angle her head- her eyes- away from me. “Got some meat.” 

“I can see that,” is Pearson’s kind answer. 

I ignore him and walk away again, into the derelict house we’ve been callin’ home for the last few weeks. My room is on the top floor; I wish I shared it with someone, but I got lucky (Dutch’s words) and got my own, private room. 

I tug off my bloodstained shirt and drop it on the floor. There’s nothin’ to be done about my trousers- they’re the only pair I’ve got (the others have just been washed, and hang soaking wet outside) and I don’t plan on walking around bare-legged. 

I change quickly. Sit down on the bed, stare at the wall. 

I don’t know how long I stay like that; starin’ at the peeling wallpaper, trying to pretend it’s the same white as the snow I used to see out my window. Obviously, the pretendin’ don’t work, because it’s not the snow, it’s a crumbling fuckin’ wall in a crumbling fuckin’ house. I stand, take a deep breath in (of hot, hot, humid, thick air), push it out. It ain’t cleansing- I don’t feel better once I’ve tasted the surrounding bogs- but it’s enough to calm my heartbeat, and make me feel somewhat human again. 

For the rest of the day, I help around camp, doing stupid, mind-numbing tasks. I try not to think of the mountains, and how much better than this godforsaken swamp they were. People talk to me, and I answer, polite and all. I eat Pearson’s stew, listen to another grandiose speech about Dutch’s plan (or, as far as I’m concerned, concepts of a plan). I finally find a moment of quiet sitting on a log, staring out at the swamp. Not the prettiest sight; all brown and green, with hints of yellow dust. 

I’m alone for only a few minutes before I hear footsteps. I turn, and find Arthur approaching, taking his cigarette packet from his satchel. I shift on the log I’m sitting on, making the split second decision that his company is something I want right now. 

He sits next to me, silently. Offers me a cigarette (I decline with a shake of my head and a wave of my hand) then lights his own with a match. He stays quiet for a little while, blowing smoke from his mouth, tinting the world blue and grey. 

It’s strange, sitting next to him. He don’t mind being quiet; seems to like my company well enough, ‘cause he keeps coming back here to smoke. 

He’s the one who found me, all that time ago, on a solo hunt in the Grizzlies. It was at the edge of the mountains, where it starts to get warmer; where the sun melts away most of the snow. Was from Blackwater, he said- I asked if I could go back with him. Promised I’d leave ‘em all alone when I got there, I just needed a job, as far from my daddy’s corpse as I could get. He’d said yes, maybe reluctantly. 

Turns out, I’d found somethin' better than a job. Not quite a family, but a gang, people to rely on, people to distract me from the emptiness created by my father’s death. I suppose it’s these people keeping me here, in this swampy nowhere, sweating my socks off. Here, I’ve got people- back in the mountains, I’ve got two dead bodies and an empty house. 

My chest tightens again, and wordlessly, I take the cigarette from Arthur’s hand, take a long drag. I hand it back, still silent, and dig my fingernails into my knuckles. 

“You miss home?” Arthur asks me, his words marked by the smoke curling from his mouth. I take the cigarette from his fingers again, press it between my teeth, inhale ‘till I can blame the burning in my eyes on the smoking rather than whatever has grabbed hold of me; whatever old, buried feeling I’d thought long gone had chosen to make an appearance. Guess it must be more obvious than I thought, that I’m feelin’ odd, ‘cause he clearly smelled it on me. 

“I don’t know, I guess,” I say, softly, fiddling with the dirty fabric of my trousers as I hand the cigarette back; as if I don’t know the answer, as if I haven’t spent half my goddamn life thinking about this. I exhale, blowing out smoke from my nose.  “Never really thought about it.” The lie burns in my throat, so thick I can hardly breathe. 

It’s not the stability that I miss. The weather in the Grizzlies was nothin’ permanent, not in any sense- one minute it’s a blizzard, the next you’re standing staring at the bright blue sky, knee deep in snow. I guess it’s the wolves howling, it’s the comfort of a fire as wind rattles against the window panes; it’s even the way the stars look after three days holed up inside. There’s no one thing I miss or don’t miss- I just know I miss it, so much that my chest tightens at the thought. 

When my daddy got shot, three- no, four- years ago, I thought the one answer was to leave that place behind; pack up my clothes and go out into the Wild Wild West, make my own future away from the smell of his freshly dug grave, right next to my mama’s frozen bones. And when I came across Arthur, and later his gang of gung-ho outlaws, who seemed ready to take on the world, I thought that was it- my life was set. 

But I don’t like the constant moving like I used to. It don’t feel like adventure anymore; it feels like escaping, like we’re always running from something. 

“I don’t…” I hesitate, reach up to dig my nails into the dip of my collarbone, try to dig the feeling out, hold it up to the light to examine it. “I guess it’s different.” A veiled confession. Away from the Grizzlies (away from home) it’s hot, stiflingly so; I can’t climb onto my horse without breaking a sweat. It’s already too warm by the time the sun rises- clothes sticking to your skin uncomfortably, flies buzzing above, drowning in the smell of swampy nothingness as soon as your eyes open. I don’t hate it- it has become familiar, but familiar in the way the weight of a revolver at my hip has become familiar; the way the constant paranoia that clogs my throat has become familiar. 

“Different how?” 

Another pause, as I scuff the yellow dust ground with the toe of my boot. Different in a whole lotta ways, I want to tell him; even the colour of the sky isn’t quite the same back home. 

Home. I think of the snow as I stare at the yellowed leather of my shoes. Where there’s snow and wolves and no people to shoot at you unless you really look for it. 

“I don’t know,” I say, even though my whole body knows; it courses through me, the knowledge that a few days ride away is the mountains, and the snow. “It just is.”

The answer dissatisfies him, I think. “C’mon,” he says in that gruff voice of his. “You gotta be able to find one difference between here and the goddamn Grizzlies.” 

“’S warmer,” I say, the words followed by a short, slightly forced laugh. “Don’t snow as much.” 

He snorts, shaking his head. “Alright,” he responds, maybe a little condescendingly. “Think o’ anything else?” 

“You got less wolves down here,” I add, after a few moments. I don’t say that I miss the sound of them howling; that when I close my eyes, I try to picture it, try to pretend I’m back there instead of here. 

“Alright.” He says it kinder this time, like we’re getting somewhere. 

“The sky looks different.” I dig my fingers in deeper. He offers me the cigarette; I take it, repurpose the burning in my throat. The smoke flickers around me as I exhale. “It’s- clearer, up there. More blue.” Here, the sky is tinted almost yellow. It ain’t ugly, but it ain’t home. 

He doesn’t answer, now, staring out at the swamps. I don’t know how he feels about this place- about Rhodes, and the foreignness of Saint Denis, with its factories and smoke and cobbled roads. I wonder if he misses home- if he ever had one to begin with. “I guess I do miss it,” I say, to fill the silence more than anything. “But… I don’t know, I don’t think I wanna go back.” Alone is the word I don’t add. I think- maybe- if I had the gang, my new family, I’d go back to the Grizzlies. After we escaped Blackwater, and hid out in that abandoned town up in the mountains; that was the happiest I’d been for a long time. 

But alone isn’t something I want to be. Not the way I was alone, the few weeks after my father passed- just me and the freshly dug grave, me and the wolves, me and the gun that killed him, sittin’ on the table, an unwanted temptation. 

“I don’t wanna be alone again.” It comes out soft, hoarse, pathetic, the words grating in my throat, like sandpaper on my tongue. 

It’s true. Yes, home is in the mountains; I know that now, when my chest clenches at the simple thought of the snow. But home is also with these people- with Arthur, and Mary-Beth, and Pearson, and the rest of them. Hell, even Kieran, the O’Driscoll boy, has become home, in a way. Home is not just the place where I grew up (the place where my daddy now lies); home is also the people that have become my family; who have embraced me so kindly and warmly. I know deep in my stomach that if I were to leave now, take a horse back to the hut, I’d end up like my daddy, a bullet in my head and a gun in my hand. 

He did it ‘cause he was lonely. So lonely that even I wasn’t enough to stop him from pulling the trigger. Lived in the mountains his whole life, but he had my mama then, and his parents. I guess fifty years of snow and not much else can drive you insane. 

My hand goes to my temple; I dig my fingers into the skin, right where I found the bullet in his head. 

“Y’won’t be,” he responds gruffly. He’s finished his cigarette, and yet he’s not made any attempt to get up, leave me with my thoughts. I snort, wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. 

“Don’t know that,” I say. “With the Pinkertons on our asses, ‘nd all.” It’s meant to be lighthearted, but it comes out quiet, rough. 

“Yeah, but they’ve always been on our asses.” He puts a hand on my leg; it engulfs my entire knee. “Tell you what.” He hesitates, clearin’ his throat a little. Squeezes my knee. “I’ll take you huntin’, once a week- or twice, or less, if you want.” 

“I go huntin’ anyway,” I answer. “Not in the mountains, y’don’t.” My chest both tightens and loosens at the same time. I swallow; my heart is thumping in my chest. I put my hand to my collarbone again, digging my nails in. “C’mon, it’ll do you good. Cold air and all that.” 

I know there’s a deeper meaning to that. Cold air- he’s giving me the chance to go home, and not by myself. Even if it’s not for long, it’s enough- to feel the snow again, to hear the wolves. Maybe once I’ll camp overnight, ride back to camp in the morning. The idea fills me with hope- a feeling we’re all starved of, these days. 

“Really?” Is all I manage to croak out. 

“What, you don’t wanna?”

I laugh, and it’s genuine this time. “No, I- I wanna.”

“Alright then.” He gives my knee a last squeeze, then stands. I stand with him, smooth my shirt with the flat of my hand. “Tomorrow then?” Tomorrow. Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow. I’d sing, if my throat weren’t so damn tight. My eyes sting, and I wipe at my nose with my hand. 

“Thank you,” I say, quietly. He don’t respond, but he nods, and I think maybe he smiles a little. 

Tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll get to take a piece of my new home to the place I grew up- someone I love, to the place that holds my heart. 

I watch him walk away; and suddenly, the humidity don’t feel so bad anymore. 

[ms0milk]

uhh cowboy nanami? farmhand nanami? who showed up in town one day in a too-nice suit with nowhere to stay? who all the animals love inexplicably and who gets his hair nibbled on by hungry horses in the morning?? the same nanami that fixes old wagons before you might get hurt using them and looks way too good in a harness mending barn roofs?? who sometimes glares at empty spaces until the cold weight of them evaporates and your life becomes light again? the very same nanami you teach to collect eggs without losing fingers and who carries calves comfortably in two strong arms and who falls in love with you on sunny summer days under the shade of a willow tree???

farmhand nanami tag <3

[waitingandwishing]

waiting and wishing main masterlist

COBRA KAI

*:･ﾟ✧Oneshots: *:･ﾟ✧ Series: 1. Fists over Feelings - Miguel Diaz x Fem!OC *:･ﾟ✧ Incorrect quotes: - PART 1 OUT OF ??? - PART 2 OUT OF ???

UMBRELLA ACADEMY

⊃━☆ Oneshots: - Dancing - Five x Fem!Reader ⊃━☆ Blurbs: - I love you, I'm sorry - Five x Fem!Reader ⊃━☆ Series: 1. The Wisp - Five x Fem!Reader ⊃━☆ Incorrect quotes: - PART 1 OUT OF ??? - PART 2 OUT OF ??? - PART 3 OUT OF ??? - PART 4 OUT OF ???

HUNTER X HUNTER

彡☆ Oneshots: 彡☆ Series: 彡☆ Incorrect quotes: - PART 1 OUT OF ??? - PART 2 OUT OF ???

MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE

☆*: .｡. Oneshots: ☆*: .｡. Series: 1. Project Crimson - Bucky x OC ☆*: .｡. Incorrect Quotes: - PART 1 OUT OF???

DC UNIVERSE

Oneshots: Series: Incorrect Quotes: Blurbs: 1. eventual dick grayson x reader

PERCY JACKSON

:*.°★* 。Oneshots: :*.°★* 。Series: 1. The Clay Girl - Percy Jackson x OC :*.°★* 。Incorrect Quotes:

HARRY POTTER

Oneshots: Series: Incorrect Quotes:

SCHOOL BUS GRAVEYARD

Oneshots: Series: Incorrect Quotes:

HOMESICK

Oneshots: Series: Incorrect Quotes:

ARCANE

Oneshots: Series: 1. Parallel Lines Incorrect Quotes: Blurbs: 1. Viktor x Reader/Oc pt. 2

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

somebody better start writing for these bitches before i do, because oh my lord 🤧🤧

[velvetcloxds]

come over- more twd request for you, daryl and sunshine!reader braiding his hair and him forgetting to take it out before getting to work in the morning

OH, SUNSHINE | D.D.

word count: 1k

warnings: soft daryl my beloved, age gap, alexandria era, little suggestive at the end- not exactly as requested, also added some dbf!daryl, quickly proofread

You giggled as Daryl grunted for at least the hundredth time since he was very cruelly persuaded to take a shower with you, you being there the only thing that was convincing enough to let you wash his hair for him, a deep conditioning only allowed after the promise of letting him kiss you all over while you worked. His hair was longer than it was in the prison, very much so, and with the aid of the hair dryer his hair looked prepped for some fancy advertisement you’d have seen posted on a wall somewhere before.

“Stop that,” you cooed, the cigarette he flicked out the window long forgotten as soon as his eyes landed on you, you were sprawled out on the bed they’d assigned him, all clean and perfect in a shirt that should’ve been his, but he didn’t mind seeing it on you instead. He had half the mind to check if the door was locked again, knowing you shouldn’t be in here, shouldn’t have been in there with him either, but hell what a sight, he’d face whatever reprimand his selfish feelings would earn him for savoring the delicacy that you were. He fiddled again, trying to tuck his hair behind his ear but the softness was unfamiliar, slipping right back and earning another little huff and puff from him. “Come here,” you beckoned, sitting back against the wall, unfolding your legs so he could settle between them.

He was slow in his descent, hesitant, careful as always knowing who you were, who you belonged to, his best friend, your father, fast asleep in the room next door. But he moved still, on his knees in front of you, raking his eyes over your features as the most delicately hopeful smile rested on your lips. You were much less hesitant, gentle hands reaching out to smooth out his hair, the fuzziness from the conditioner making his grunting more understandable.

“Can I braid it for you,” you breathed though you knew he wouldn’t mind, ever the stubborn man that he is, he could never say no to you, never fuss as much as he is used to doing, not with you, it felt wrong to be anything but perfectly agreeable to your every wish and desire. “It’ll be less frizzy,” you had one of those smiles on your face again, like the one that coerced him into the shower, into his room, into his heart.

Now he wasn’t all that excited for the concept of it all, he’d briefly considered an issue coming up in the middle of the night and he’d have to face the dead or the enemy while sporting a braid but selfishly it would mean he’d get to feel your fingers digging through his hair, scraping at his scalp, cooing him in a way he’d only allow from you.

“Alright,” he gave in and he was putty in your hands in an instant, melting down onto his elbows to let you work, eyes full of disbelieved wonder as he watched you and he couldn’t fight himself placing a kiss onto your bare thigh, humming as he stole a few more, looking up at you through his lashes.

“Is this better, baby?” you sighed, performing some sort of magic with the end of his braid to tie it off and make it stay in place, fingers gripping his shoulder to guide him up, bring him closer, humming just the same as he gripped onto your waist. He kissed at your neck, trailed his lips up your jaw, your cheek, pausing as he hovered by your ear as he whispered inaudible praises- you fought a giggle at the softness of him, so unfamiliar yet so natural. “Dar,” you wanted to see him, unhappy with him hiding even as he was so close to you. He kissed the hair above your ear, grunting differently this time, a smug little sound as his hands drifted up your shirt, rough flesh scraping against your silky skin.  

“Yes, sunshine?” he shifted to look at you, not surprised when you cupped his cheeks, brushed your nose against his, and scrunched said nose when he pinched at your sides.

“I love you,” you knew you weren’t allowed to say that out loud, whisper it maybe, draw it in small hearts on his hand when he reached for you in secret, write it on notes to sneak into the pocket of his leather vest but never out loud- it was a dangerous thing to say, to admit, loving him shouldn’t be something you were bold about. “You love me too,” you added, and his brows dipped, he wanted to disagree, remind you that this wasn’t the plan, wasn’t what either of you signed up for but he couldn’t find the words to lie to you. So, he kissed you again, harder, forceful with the softest, gentlest reminder of love. You held onto him tightly, scared he’d leave if you didn’t, brave as you felt him guide you down into the pillows pulling lightly at the material of your shirt.

“Say it again,” he whispered into your mouth and you smiled when he pulled away, looked you over, the heat creeping over your skin, burning against his own and you knew it was crazy to be so caught up in him in the midst of it all. “Again, say it again.”

“You love me,” you dared him he had that smug smile again, tilting his head to demand more. “And I love you,” he hummed, pleased with himself, with you obliging him. “You going to show me how much?” how you managed to say that with such an innocent little expression was beyond him, but he wouldn’t stop giving you what you want now, and never would.

“Let’s hope this braid of yours holds.”

And it did hold, right up to the morning when he'd forgotten he had it in the first place, the night before having much more memorable moments that took root in his head. You were the last one up, making sure to sneak into your room to get some real clothes before going downstairs where you found a blushing Daryl eating a piece of toast. He was the center of attention, jokes coming from all around even from your dad, and your little hairstyle was to blame. His frustration eased ever so slightly when you ever nonchalantly stilled next to them.

"I'm sorry," you whispered and he knew you were, knew you felt extremely silly for making people laugh at him over what was supposed to be an act of love. He handed you the plate with his other piece of toast, shrugging as he licked his fingers clean.

"Don't be," he whispered right back just in time for Rick to come through with another joke that had you biting back a smile of your own as the kitchen filled with laughter. "Something funny, sunshine?" he dared loud enough for the room to hear and you were the one to shrug, hiding the fondness in your eyes by taking a bite of the toast, humming at the taste, content as he accidentally rested his shoulder against yours.

[cassidyysblog]

My masterlist:

PLEASE REQUEST IM BORED AS HELLL

Fandoms that i write for :

• Mr plankton

• Squid game s1/s2

Masterlist

• All of us are dead

Masterlist

• Fnaf/ Fazbear frights (books)

• Afton family

• The Walking dead

• School bus graveyard

• Stranger things

• Losers club / It / Bowers gang

• Blackphone

• Homesick

• The maze runner

• Young hearts

• The little rascals

•How to eat fried worms

Theres way more but if you request a fandom that i know then ill write :)

STUFF THAT ILL WRITE:

• Smuttt (only if the character is 18 or older/ or I'll age them up)

• angst

• poly

• Fluff

• Plantonic

• Headcanons

• Yendere

•Literaly anything just ask 🤷‍♀️

STUFF THAT I WONT WRITE:

• Incest

• Big age gaps (or illegal age gaps)

• Kid/Childx Adult (romantically)

• rape/sa

• you guys get my point

READERS THAT ILL WITE FOR:

(ILL WRITE ANY TYPE OF READER THESE ARE EXAMPLES!!)

• OLDERSISTER!Mc/reader

• OLDERBROTHER!Mc/reader

• LITTLESISTER!Mc/reader (plantonic)

• LITTLEBROTHER!Mc/reader (plantonic)

• Child!Mc/Reader (plantonic)

• GN!Mc/reader

• M!Mc/reader

• F!Mc/reader

• CHUBBY!Mc/reader

• dom!Mc/reader

• sub!Mc/reader

BYE HAVE A GREAT DAY/NIGHT !! ♡♡