#i just feel like everyone would’ve done well by imagining what their mama would say before sending things… to speak colloquially

[9w1ft]

It was absurd that those people ever tried to pretend it was about morality in the first place considering that they were the same people who were sending Karlie death threats all throughout the last four months of her first pregnancy 💀

see that���s the thing i don’t want to say everybody did everything but at the same time i think it would also be naive to say the venn diagram had no overlap

[weskerluvr69]

Would you write Huntress with an s/o that loves to knit please?

yesss I love huntress!! this turned out to be really long omg im sorry

-

Knitting is something you always had a knack for. It all started a long time ago, while you were at your grandparents house after school. Your grandmother took you away from the television and brought you upstairs, then placed a ball of yarn in front of you and some needles.

"What's this for?" you asked, confused and already bored.

"It'll come in handy one day," your grandmother promised, and smiled as she showed you the ropes.

From that day on, it's just a force of habit. You're bored? You start knitting. You're anxious? You start knitting.

It brings you peace of mind, especially nowadays.

"Damn," Jake mutters, looking at his torn scarf. You sit next to him and hold your hands out expectantly, and he raises an eyebrow at you. "What's up?"

"Your scarf. I can fix it," you say. Jake shakes his head with a smile like he doesn't believe you, but he hands it over anyways.

A few hours later, when you hand him scarf back, Jake looks the happiest he's been in years.

"How–?" he asks, admiring your handiwork.

"I don't know, I just kinda... Appeared with them?" you answer, holding up your sewing tools. "Every time I get a new outfit, it comes with a new ball of yarn." You shrug.

"Can I see?" Jake asks, and you nod. You take him to your tent, and show the array of rainbow balls of yarn, as well as an almost endless supply of knitting tools.

"Cool." Jake grins at you, puts on his scarf, and walks off. You smile, thinking that's the end of it.

Evidently, Jake has a bigger mouth than he lets off. And by the end of the next trial, you have dozens of requests from your fellow survivors. David wants a cool patch on his jeans sewn in, Nea's looking for a new style of flannel, and so on and so forth.

It lifts the mood of the campfire just a tiny bit, as everyone shows off your handiwork.

What you never expected, however, was your work catching the attention of a killer.

It happens randomly in the red forest, once a hatchet just barely misses your head. Unfortunately, the holiday sweater you knitted for yourself isn't as lucky and is torn by the blade.

You stop running abruptly once you feel the chilly air on your shoulder, frowning. "Damn. I don't think I have anymore red yarn," you grumble to yourself as you inspect the tear. You knew you shouldn't have made Dwight an elf costume...

As footsteps and humming approach you, you suddenly remember "oh shit, I'm going to fucking die" and stare fearfully up at Huntress.

She looks down at you, and from the half of her face that's visible, you see a frown.

What?

"Uh," you say awkwardly, waiting for a hatchet to the face.

She raises her axe and you brace yourself, squeezing your eyes shut, but no hit comes.

You hesitantly open one eye, and see Huntress pointing at the torn seams.

Her humming slows to a stop. "Sorry," she says, very slowly, like she hasn't spoken in years. Her accent is thick, and she has a softer voice than you would've imagined.

"It's okay," you reassure her, with a small smile. This is probably the weirdest thing to ever happen to you (saying a lot because you're literally in limbo hell) but hey, might as well enjoy not running for your life while bleeding out! "It's an easy fix."

"Like it. Looks warm," Huntress says, with a nod of approval.

"Do you want one?" you ask impulsively, and immediately feel like slapping yourself.

Instead of a mocking laugh or even raising her weapon to hit you, Huntress seems to brighten up.

"Really?" she asks, and there's a hint of excitement in her tone. You nod, and she smiles widely. "Yes!"

Huntress leaves you alone for the rest of the match, and happily goes back to humming her lovely tune. She does end up slaughtering you and your team, but in your final moments on the hook, you do see her waving goodbye at you.

It takes you what feels like weeks to finish the sweater you're making for Huntress, partly because you wanted to make it really special for her. You're not sure why, but you really want to see her smile again.

The next time you hear humming in a trial, instead of running away, you actually run towards the source of the sound. Upon seeing you, she puts her hatchet away quickly and grins.

You grin in return and take your hands out from behind your back, revealing a baby blue sweater with a white deer outlined onto the front.

"So, I don't really know your exact size or your favorite color or–" you start rambling, but Huntress grabbing you into a big bear hug cuts off the rest of your sentence.

"Thank you," she says sincerely, and your brain short-circuits momentarily.

"You're welcome," you say quietly, flushing from the proximity and how oddly intimate this whole situation is. Not to mention the fact that you kinda... Like it.

After she releases you from her grasp, she immediately puts on the sweater you made. You sigh in relief at seeing the nearly perfect fit–your grandmother always did say you had a seamstress eye.

Huntress ends up letting you all live that trial. Throughout it, you spend a lot of time talking to her and getting to know the real her: Anna. Your cheeks hurt from how much you smile and laugh while hanging out with her.

When asked, you tell your teammates that you were distracting her so they could get the gens done. It's not entirely a lie, just an omission of truth.

Being Anna's... Something, has given you some benefits. Certain killers don't sacrifice you in fear of making "mama bear upset" whatever that means.

And whenever you see Anna, she's proudly wearing the sweater you made and makes sure to give you a big hug and kiss– right before purposely missing all of her hatchets.

[justfandomwritings]

honey, no callsigns was amazing! i’m a sucker for a good angst, and you definitely broke my heart and then put it back to together in this one. addie being super protective of jake all the time? brilliant. the hint at the no callsign rule? groundbreaking. the fact that addie only meets friends jake is willing to die for, which is also a reference to her meeting rooster and the dagger squad in the future? just *chef’s kiss*. he was so excited to see her, and you know that i’m a whore for a man who’s whipped for their partner. reading this story in your words is always a pleasure! i also love they way you built addie’s relationship with his sisters and his mom. debbie was so sweet to her and you just know that even if their feelings are not a verbal conversation, it’s like they all came to the agreement that what they both need is each other. debbie just knew jake needed her by his side, and i think that’s beautiful. getting to see the beginning of his and javy’s friendship was also really nice, and i feel like javy will now be also protective of jake as well. he saw the crack in his facade and i’m sure he’ll pick on more stuff as time goes on. thank you so much for writing it, dear! <3

natrace

Yes! Thank you to the anon who sent in that request. And I am working on your requests too natrace! Pinky promise! Also, everyone else requests are open for Jake and Addie or just in general.

You are objectively too nice to me! This is so sweet! Thank you! Every single story you leave me nice thoughtful feedback, and I cannot thank you enough. It really means so much for authors to get feedback like this you’re a gem!

The “we don’t use callsigns in this house” policy that the Seresin’s had was always because of something like this in my head. I just never wrote down how it played out. I really think she and Coyote met while Jake was in training and hit it off and would’ve been friends, but nothing ever came out of it because of the distance. And Jake who knows Addie SO well would also know that they could and should be friends and that’s all he thinks about when he hears Coyote in trouble.

Jake in the movie apparently has a medal for valor I don’t know anything about navy medals. I just know what people say in the analysis of them, and I’m imagining this is when he got it, doing something insanely heroic the day he almost died for Coyote, the same day he and Coyote become best friends, and the same day Addie outlaws callsigns.

As for Debbie, I think it’s safe to say that she never actually verbally communicated with Addie that Addie was the one staying the night. I think Debbie just knew that Addie was going to stay in Jakes room or sleep in the waiting room if they didn’t let her stay or if Debbie wanted to be the one to stay. And Debbie knows her son well enough to know he’s in love with Addie and to know that much as Debbie loves him and much as he’s a mamas boy, Addie is the love of his life and his soulmate and really his wife in all but name. And Debbie knows Addie is the one he wants to stay so she just got everything in order and made Jake sign off which he would’ve done willingly when he heard Addie was waiting outside to come in.

Yeaaaaaah I have plans for Javy and Addie (the whole squad and Addie really) at the wedding if I ever end up writing that. But suffice to say that Javy knew the whole time where the crack in Jakes armor was. (He knew Addie wasn’t a plane lol).

[lovenhlboys]

From a Distance (E.Pettersson x Reader)

Chapter 5

Masterlist

Be added to series taglist

A/N: I have finally graduated!! now I have time so I can work on this until its finished, and trust me, it won't take too long, I'll release the other chapters on a faster, more regular basis since I don't have much else to do, and cause I've had the plan and ideas for the rest of this story for so long. I thank you for your patience with me and I hope y'all love it!! And as always Ash is my savior and I love her @imagines-r-s

change in POV is signalized by:

Y/N= regular ELIAS= italics

(any other info is on the masterlist)

Warnings: cursing, Mentions of Psych, baby & baby talk, loving of dogs, goalie being essentially psychic

Words: 3.3k

Summary: some reflecting on prior events happens.

Well, it has been quite the day for you. You never would have thought anything like this could have happened. “Freaking out” isn’t strong enough to describe your current state. You need to talk to someone, god you’re so happy right now. So you call Quinn.

“Hey, Quinny!”

“Sup Y/N/N?” he answers

“I’m picking up from work, and I'm about to head home, where you will be there too, with a bottle of our favorite wine and some take-out.”

“Got it, something important happened?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” you still couldn't stop smiling.

“Ok how important, expensive wine or REALLY expensive wine?”

“Uhhh in between,” you decided.

“Ahhh ok, can't wait. See you there, bye!!”

“Bye, Huggy”

You finish packing up and text Brock to tell him that you and Quinn are having a wine night, to make sure he knows to be somewhere else.

As you’re walking out, you call Holly.

“Hey, Babe!”

“Howdy!”

“God I always forget you interned in Dallas,” she says laughing.

“You pick that shit up quickly, I’m telling you. even the Fins were saying 'y'all'"

“So what’s up?” She asks.

“Are you free tonight, cause I have some very big news so it’s a wine night.”

“Umm, let me see if Bo wants to have the guys over and watch Gunnar” you hear her call her husband and ask him. “He said sure!”

“Okie Dokie! Text Quinn that you’re coming too, so he knows to get your usual from the take-out place” you tell her.

“Will do, and Y/N/N?" she says before you hang up.

“Yep?”

“Do you want me to grab ice cream?” She asks, already knowing your answer.

“Of course!”

“Ok, see you there” she hangs up.

You drive home jamming out to your music, as everyone should. You still can’t believe what happened today. It feels like it happened last week but it also feels like you never left that break room. Hopefully, Elias won’t mind that you’re telling Quinn and Holly. As long as you tell them not to say anything to the other guys, all should be well.

Once you get home, the dogs greet you at the door, “Oh hi! Hi sweeties! Oh yes, yes hi Coolieee, oh you’re such a cutie,” you drop your bags and get down on your knees to get on their level. When you get on your knees, Milo knows it means you want him to hug you, so he hops up and puts his paws on your shoulders. “Hi, hi, hi, oh thank you for the hugs. Oh yes auntie loves you soooooo much mmwwaaa”

Quinn is there and has everything set up and ready to go, so you change into your sweats and grab your blanket, and sit next to Quinn on the couch, grabbing your glass of wine and food before you sit down. Now you just have to wait for Holly

“Sooo, what’s the news?” Quinn asks you.

“Holly isn’t here yet, we have to wait.”

”Oh so it’s that good?” He raises his eyebrows.

“What do you mean?” You question, taking a sip of your wine.

“Well, when the news isn’t that important you usually don’t care if she hears it after me, or I hear it after her. But when it’s super important news, you have the other one wait.”

“Hmm, well then yeah. It’s pretty fuckin’ great, I don’t think I’ve stopped smiling for like 5 hours.”

Just then Holly comes in the door with Gus under one arm and a grocery bag full of ice cream in her other hand, “hi puppies, yes I have your friend with me”

“Oh! Hi Burton!!” You say with your puppy voice.

“Ok, why do you call him Burton? I never understood that.”

“It’s from one of my favorite shows!” You exclaim

“Y/N/N I don’t know if you know this but you, your brother, and Quinn all have like 50 “favorite TV shows” I’m gonna need you to say more than that,” she says to you as she grabs her food from the counter, and heads to the couch. She sits on the side of you not occupied by Quinn.

“Ok, rude,” Quinn sassed.

“It’s from Psych. One of the main characters is called Gus, but his first name is Burton, and the police chief and one of the detectives calls him by his full name which is Burton Guster, so there.”

“Got it.”

“Ok, Holly no more distractions,” Quinn starts, sticking his tongue out at her, she returns the gesture. “So what’s the important news?”

“Oh, you didn’t tell him yet! So it’s really important!” she says.

“Hmm, I guess I do do that,” you realize, “I would actually like you guys to guess” you take a bite of your food, smugly. Knowing neither of them would even have an idea of what to guess.

“Hmmm,” Quinn hums, he looks like he has a mischievous grin “does it have to do with a certain Swede?”

“Wha-“ you choke on your bite of food, Quinn is giggling at your reaction, “the fuck? How’d you know that?”

“Well umm, a certain brother of yours may have asked me if he should do that plan.”

“Why would you do that?’ you whined, upset at your friends for teaming up on you. You couldn’t imagine what you would’ve done if that plan didn’t work out the way it did today.

“Did it work?” He asked with a grin.

“That’s not the point, asshole!”

“See but it worked! He doesn’t hate you anymore, now you can flirt your ass off and make him see you as more than a friend” he tells you.

You laugh, he has no idea what happened in that break room.

“Ok, I’m out of the loop here, what happened?” Holly interjects

“Ok, well my idiot brother and apparently my asshole best friend came up with this plan-“

“Actually Marky and Thatch knew about it too,” he stops you from interrupting, “AND, to be fair, you can’t blame Brock for going to us. I mean I’m your best friend, and the goalies are just good at planning and doing crazy things”

“WELL. Those dicks that I call my closest friends and family, decided it was a good idea to lock me in one of the Canucks break rooms with Elias fucking Pettersson because he hated me and they wanted us to get along”

Holly starts laughing, “oh my god, they did not” she continues to laugh and Quinn joins her. You roll your eyes at them both.

“Yes, they did. I was not a happy camper. But it worked out and he doesn’t hate me.”

“See, I knew it would work! And like I said, now you can work your moves and get him to like you as more than just a friend.” He grins again.

You grin “Oh, also that’s the other part.” You take a long sip of your wine, both Holly and Quinn stared at you wide-eyed, waiting for you to finish, “turns out he’s a great kisser”

“I’m sorry,” Quinn said softly, he took a breath “WHAT?”

“Yeah, would you like more details?”

“Fucking- yeah,” they said simultaneously.

You went on to explain the events that happened in that incredible breakroom

“How the fuck did he keep that a secret, and why?” Quinn exclaimed, clearly confused that he didn't know something so big about who he considers one of his best friends.

“I don't know, but both of you have to absolutely promise me that you won't tell literally anyone else, ok? Not Bo, not Brock, not Demer, Stech, Marky, nobody!”

“Yeah, yeah that's fine,” Holly said, waving her hand in dismissal, wanting to get past that and know more. “So how do you feel?”

“Like the luckiest girl in the world,” you said while giggling with a big smile.

“Y/N/N. I’m so happy for you.” Quinn says with a genuine smile.”

“Ok, enough about me. How were your days?”

“Not as interesting as yours, but Gunnar and I spent the whole day out and about with Bo, and now I’m having a great wine night with you guys so it’s been a pretty amazing day.”

“Yeah, well I spent the whole day waiting for Y/N to come to kill me cause I thought she’d find out I had something to do with that whole situation,” Quinn says.

“Well let me just tell you, Hughes, if it hadn’t ended up the way it did, I may have had a few words for you.”

“I know, that’s why I was panicking the whole day”

“OH MY GOD” Holly shouted as she looked at her phone

“What, what’s wrong?” You ask

“Umm, you are going to LOVE this shit, Y/N/N”

She thrusts her phone in your face. When you look down you see a picture of Elias holding Gunnar, with a toy you hadn’t seen before. Elias looks so happy, looking down at the baby Horvat. Then there’s another alert on Holly's phone, “ohmygod,” you mumble. The alert is another text from Bo, it’s a video this time. You press play. In the video Elias is playing with Gunnar, using a high-pitched baby voice “oh yes you love your new toy that the best uncle in the world got you! Yes, you do cause I’m your very favorite, yes I am. You are just so cute, so lucky you got your looks from your mama, yes you are.”

From behind the camera, you can hear Bo, “Hey, have you looked at him, he looks just like me”

“Daddy is crazy, isn’t he? Yeaaaaah” Elias says to the boy.

The video ends and you see what text Bo had sent along with the picture and video

Bowie 💙: Yes, he got him ANOTHER toy. If he keeps this up, we’re gonna need a bigger house just for the toys lias gets him

“This boy is going to be the death of me I swear to god,” you say, handing the phone to Quinn, and placing your head in your hand. That video was literally the cutest thing you’ve seen in about 5 years.

You continue to talk, you end up explaining what Elias had told you about not doing anything else yet, and what he had said regarding that. You all finish eating and eventually decide on watching some ’how i met your mother’.

After they leave, you spend the rest of the night replaying the events from the break room in your head. Imagining what will eventually happen with you two. You truly can’t believe it. You’ve never felt this way about anyone and you’ve only known he likes you for about 12 hours. Elias Pettersson is going to be a special, if not the most special person in your life. So you pull out your notebook and a pen that you always keep next to your bed and you write your thoughts down.

First, you write the date at the top then skip 2 lines

Elias Pettersson, I think I love you. I know it’s too early to say and we’ve only had one day together, but I need to write this down.

It looks ridiculous and cheesy now that I’m reading it but if my gut is right, which it normally is, I just had to write it down. I had to tell you. If not in real life, at least just in this notebook. As cliche as it sounds, maybe I can show you it one day. I mean I do love myself a hallmark movie, so maybe this can be like one of those.

You sign it at the bottom, close your notebook, and place it back in your drawer.

You’re such a hopeless romantic and you kinda want to make fun of yourself, like you would do if you found out any of the guys did this kind of thing. ( And if you’re being honest, you wouldn’t be surprised if your own brother would do something like this. Your parents kind of instilled a love of romcoms in you guys at a young age.)

So once your thoughts have settled, you close your eyes and drift off to sleep.

Elias’s night wasn’t that much different. He arrived at the Horvat residence with some snacks for the boys, and a new toy for Gunnar, as always. Every time he sees one he knows Gunnar will like, he buys it...it’s a problem.

“Petey!!” Stech shouts as he gets up to grab the snacks from him.

“So how was your daaaaay” Thatcher asks from the couch.

“I’m sure Brock has inform you of how my day went”

“‘Inform’ us he has. But OUR plan is what caused this. WE worked very hard on it” Thatcher says, chuckling.

“Wait, who all knew about it??”

“I didn’t!” Bo shouts from the kitchen!

“And neither did this little boy, he would never betray me,” Elias says, grabbing Gunnar from Brock on the couch and carrying him into the kitchen, the other guys follow. “And guess what Gunnar!!! I got you another toy, cause I’m the best uncle you have, yes I am.”

“Another toy Lias?? Really, I’m going to need to make a whole mother room for all of the toys you get him if you don’t stop”

“But why would I ever stop when he is the best boy ever! He deserves the world, yes he does,” Elias says, looking at Gunnar the whole time.

“Ok, now it’s time for him to have dinner,” Bo says, grabbing Gunnar from Elias.

“So… all of you knew?”

Stech, Brock, Demer, and Marky all nodded, with a guilty look.

“What about you? Elias said, looking at Nils. Nils looked guilty and nodded slowly “my own son? Really Hogs?”

“I’m sorry, I just wants to help you!!”

“We all just ‘wants’ to help you, Petey!” Marky said, mocking the youngest Swede’s mistake. All of them would do that to both of them, make fun of them when they messed up, they just wanted to help them, it’s all in good fun.

“Ok, I know but what if it didn’t work, what would you guys have done?”

“Elias my dear, the point is that it did work. And now Brock won’t have an aneurysm every time you and Y/N/N are in the same room together” Troy says, placing his arm around Elias’s shoulder.

“Yeah Petey, all we wanted was for you to like her as much as we do!” Thatcher said.

“Ok, I never hated her, I just-”, he paused trying to come up with what he was going to say next, “I don’t socialize well, it’s hard for me to talk to people, ok?”

“Which is exactly why we did this. Y/C/N/N is a sweet girl, we just needed to give you both a push since you’re essentially the same person” Marky said.

“LITERALLY” Brock shouted, “ I swear, the more and more I hang out with you, Petey, the more I realize you and my sister are the same. Like sure, she and Quinny are best friends. And like they’re both similar like they’re both shy, awkward, nice, and stuff but you two have the same humor, need for attention, sassy bite, etcétéra etcétéra.”

“Oh my god, you’re totally right! And their fake self confident-ness thingy!!” The other guys shouted assorted affirmations to Nils’s comment.

“What do you mean ‘fake self-confidence thing’?” Elias was confused.

“Both of you do a something where you say stuffs like “well I’m hot, so..” or “cause I’m the best” and my favorite “because the people likes me better than you” but neither of you feel that way far down. You both just like to act like you more confident than you are really.”

“Damn, he called you two out, and he’s so right” Bo chimed in with a chuckle. “Ok, well now that he’s done eating, Marky, can you and the baby Swede go out and pick up the pizza?”

“Yes sir, captain sir!” Marky said saluting Bo.

The rest of them talked while they waited for Gunnars stomach to settle.

“Hey Petey, wanna go grab drinks from the store with me,” Thatcher asks.

“I think we’re good actu-“ Bo starts

“Petey” Thatcher insists with a look that says that’s not exactly the reason why he wants Elias to come with him. And he knows better than to say no to a goalie who gives him that look.

“Yep,” he gets up and follows Demer out the door.

They get in the car and that’s when it starts “so,” Thatch says, “how long have you liked her?” He asks.

“I- uh what? What are you talking abou-”

“Oh save it blondy, I have a 6th sense about this shit.”

“Damn goalies. At least Marky doesn’t know,” Elias mumbles under his breath.

“Oh he definitely does, he just hasn’t said anything for some reason” he laughs.

“How do you know he just doesn’t know?”

“Cause I know this shit, bro. He may have even been messing with you since he and Y/N/N are cuddle buddies and shit. Just to get you to make a move or something”

“HE MADE ME DO THE OPPOSITE! I thought they were together for the longest time until she told me TODAY” That made Thatcher laugh, you know, Elias’s pain and suffering is just HILARIOUS.

Once he calmed down he continued to talk, “Ok, well you didn’t tell us the whole story of what happened in there, so spill” he said as they walked into the store.

“We may have talked”

“....bitch that’s not it, keep going”

“And we kissed a little,” Elias said, face turning red.

“That’s my boy!” Thatcher clapped him on the shoulder.

“You're only 3 years older than me”

“And you're only a year older than Nils, who you claim as your ‘son,’ so shhh” he retorted, “so I assume you two talked about it after, actually knowing you two, that may not have happened,” Thatcher said as they checked out.

“Ha ha ha, yes we talked about it Douglas,” Elias said with an eye roll. “I just told her that I can’t do anything till I do something” he said as they got into the car again.

“What’s that “something” you have to do?” The goalie questioned.

“Talk to her older brother that may just kill me if I tell him so, I’m not too pumped about that.”

“Have you forgotten how much Brock loves you? You’re each other’s work husbands, I think if you tell him he’ll be shocked, but he’d be ok with it.”

“But you didn’t hear what Brock had said about his friend chad in high school! He beat him up and cut him out, I don’t want that to happen to me”

“Petey, if you feel as strongly as I think you feel about YNN then I think you have to tell her, or that would be an extreme disservice to you, her, and honestly my mental health, so you have some work to do.” He said as they finally walked into the Horvat house again.

“Yeah, Petey you have to work on some stuff, like your hair!” Brock quipped.

“Shut up, frat boy, not all of us can have a luscious flow like you.” Elias jabbed back, “oh hi, how’s my favorite person here? Is your tummy settled now, can I finally give you your new toy?”

“Yes, you can,” Bo says, handing his child off to the blonde Swede.

Elias took Gunnar down to the floor, where his new toy was, and played with him while talking in his baby voice, at some point Bo took a video and sent it to Holly, and also his insta story. But that’s ok, he loved his little ‘nephew,’ and honestly, his day couldn’t have gone better.

Tagist: @calgarycanuck @suffering-canucks-fan @2manytabsopen @lovethepreds @callllumhood @mellany1997 @yourlocalgranolagirl54 @all-time-fanatic @Fitnessfreak498 @mysoftboybowen @peachyotps @kale-makar @kentjohnsons @iwantahockeyhimbo @aeyyy-ohhhh @peteysimp @nhlindblom @mitchsmullet @dolphinahabsfan @starswin @heunderwoo @hockeymockeryandlove @peteysimp

[slasherhaven]

Hi!! Could you please write an Otis x reader one shot where the reader is into him and doesn’t think he knows but he totally knows and he’s kind of thrown off because most girls find him disgusting and just idk I’m really in the mood for some good Otis content 💕💕💕

Of course!

Why Does he Hate me? (Otis Oneshot)

Word Count: 2425

You had been a friend of the Firefly family for quite some time now, knowing all the dirty little details of their lifestyle but you still hung around. Baby had become your best friend quickly, Mama treated you like one of her own whenever you came round to the house, but it was Otis that captivated most of your attention.

Something about him just pulled you in.. You couldn’t even explain it but it was killing you because he seemed completely oblivious and you wouldn’t dare approach the subject with him when you were so sure he wasn’t interested. 

"I'm out" Baby pouted as she tipped her beer can back, quickly realising it was empty. "Mind grabbing me another one?" she asked you, batting her lashes as if that would convince you.

"Aren't I supposed to be your guest? Shouldn't you be getting us the drinks?" you raised an eyebrow at her.

"Oh please you pretty much live here. I think Mama might even like you more, she won't yell at ya for drinking the beers" Baby scoffed, waving you off dismissively.

"Fine" you chuckled as you rose from the couch, stretching your back before placing your own empty beer can down on the coffee table. "Could you possibly throw these in the trash?" you asked.

"Sure" Baby nodded, her attention focused on the old horror movie playing on the Tv. You laughed again and shook your head before leaving for the kitchen.

Stepping into the kitchen, you teased for a moment when you saw Otis at the fridge. The effect he had on you was ridiculous but you tried to push it down every time you saw him, reminding yourself that he was not interested in you.

"Hey Otis, you mind passing me a couple beers?" you asked as you walked up behind him.

Apparently he hadn't heard you enter the kitchen because you caught the small flinch before he turned to you. "You got hands, get them yourself" he snapped, making your eyes widen. He must have been in a bad mood...

"I would but...you're kinda in the way" you pointed out, gesturing to the fact that he was standing right in front of the refrigerator.

Otis huffed, glancing back at the fridge before turning back to it properly. He grabbed himself a can of beer before slamming the door shut. "You're just always here aren't ya?" Otis turned back to you with a glare.

"Uh..." you didn't know what to say, didn't know how to respond.

Sure, Otis could be really unapproachable and definitely knew how to make you nervous. You were used to his short temper and bad days but that didn't make it hurt any less when it was directed at you.

"Sorry" you whispered as you shuffled around his figure, pulling the fridge door open.

You only heard him mutter something under his breath before leaving. You sighed to yourself as you grabbed the two beers, closing the fridge door before returning to the living room.

With a huff you flopped down onto the couch beside Baby, handing her one of the cans and noticing that the two empty cans were still sitting on the coffee table.

"What's wrong with you? You only went to the kitchen?" Baby asked as she took the drink, laughing softly but you knew that she was genuinely concerned. She could sometimes come across as a little insincere but you knew her well enough to know how she really felt.

"I think your brother hates me" you mumbled as you popped your can open, bringing it to your lips for a quick gulp.

"Why ya think that?" she opened her own can, sparing you a small glance.

"He's just always glaring at me or snapping at me. He just did it in the kitchen because he was in the fridge and I asked him to pass me some beers. Seriously, what's his problem?" frustration was clear in your voice at this point, "I ain't done nothing to him!"

"He don't hate ya" Baby shook her head as she drank from her can.

"Yeah well tell him that" you rolled your eyes, unconvinced.

"He's an idiot, don't let it bother ya" Baby knew that you had feelings for Otis, she could see it on your face whenever he was in the room.

She also knew that your feelings weren't unreciprocated. Her brother was stubborn and hard headed but she was one of the people who knew him better than anyone, and she knew that he liked you more than he let on. If he really didn't like you, you wouldn't be welcome in the house, he wouldn't let you go out with him and Baby, you wouldn't just be frustrated by his difficult personality.

-----

The next time you visited the Firefly residence was only the next day and, as usual, you were visiting Baby but when you knocked on the door Otis answered it instead.

"Oh, hi. Is Baby here?" you asked, quickly collecting yourself to not make a fool out of yourself in front of this man.

"Nah, thought she would've told ya that" he shrugged, sounding completely disinterested in the conversation.

"Did she say when she would be back? Y'know what, never mind, I'll just come by later" you shook your head, turning to walk away.

"Shit, hold on" Otis huffed as he caught your arm in his hand, making you turn back to him. "C'mon, you can wait inside" he offered, releasing your arm and stepped to the side to let you through the doorway.

"Thanks" you smiled politely as you walked into the house, realising just how quiet it was as Otis shut the door. "Is anyone home?" you glanced back at him over your shoulder.

"Everyone's out" he told you simply. You nodded, nervously picking at your fingernails at the thought of being home alone with Otis. "You're going to make yourself bleed" he chastised, staring at your hands. You instantly stopped picking at your nails and folded your arms to resist the urge to keep doing so. "See ya later then" Otis nodded before beginning to walk past you, apparently just planning to leave you alone in the house.

"Otis" you spoke before you could stop yourself, making the man turn back to you. "...why don't you like me? I mean obviously you don't have to like me, I just...have I done something to you?" you asked, glancing around the room to avoid looking at his face.

"I don't...not like you" was all Otis said but that just confused you even more, making your gaze snap to his face.

"Then why do you always seem mad when I'm around?" you asked.

"Why are you always around?" he responded with another question rather than giving you any clear answer.

"I...I don't understand..." you shook your head.

"You're just always...here. Always around with your damn smiles and stares" he began to walk towards you with a slight glare, sounding like he was annoyed at you.

"Otis...I'm sorry if I-" you began to apologise as you stepped backwards and away from him.

"Baby said I should apologise" Otis cut you off as your back hit the wall behind you but he still stepped closer to you.

"What for?" you asked, watching him carefully.

"For upsetting you. I told her to fuck off because I didn't upset you" Otis scoffed, making you chuckle a little as you imagined the argument that must have broke out between them. "But I did upset ya, didn't I?" he asked, earning a slightly confused look from you. "Yesterday when I snapped at ya, I upset ya" he reminded you.

"I...just want to know why you always seem so annoyed when I'm around" you sighed, remembered how he had snapped at you. You weren't mad about it but you did want to know what his problem with you was.

"'cause you frustrate me" Otis told you but that just made you look away from him, you still didn't know what you had done to him to frustrate him. "I just don't get it" he moved closer to you, now being far too close to be considered a friendly distance.

"Get what?" you asked quietly.

"Why you're at all interested in me. You should want to put as much distance between me and yourself as possible but you don't" he squinted at you.

"I'm not scared of you, Otis" you told him honestly, your voice soft as you met his gaze. Even if he should, he really didn't scare you.

"Shit, I can see that" he scoffed.

"And...that frustrates you?" you asked, trying to understand but only feeling more confused.

"It confuses me!" his voice raised, making you flinch a little but only from surprise not fear. "Ya ain't scared of me, ya ain't disgusted by me, ya just ain't like anyone else" he seemed to move closer to you but you could have been imaging it.

"I've known the family for a while now...kinda takes a lot to freak me out these days" you shrugged.

"Obviously so. Instead of being disgusted by me, ya have damn feelings for me" Otis muttered, making your eyes widen in shock.

"What? Did Baby tell you that?" you were going to kill her!

"She didn't need too. I ain't stupid and I ain't blind, I see how ya look at me, always smiling at me no matter how much I push ya away" he shook his head, seemingly unfazed by your reaction.

"I'm sorry" you hung your head, embarrassed that he had been aware of your feelings this whole time. For some reason you just felt like you had to apologise for that, maybe that was why he was so bothered by you all the time.

"You ain't gotta apologise, I've already said that I'm the one apologising for upsettin' ya" Otis sighed.

"It's fine" you assured him quietly.

"It ain't but I'm good at fuckin' up. Would like to make it up to ya though" he admitted sincerely.

"You don't have too. It's fine, really" you repeated.

"I want too" Otis insisted, his finger hooking under your chin before lifting your head and making you look at him.

"Otis?" you whispered, caught off guard by the gentle action and trying to supress your blush.

"Y'know...not many women would look twice at a man like me. And any that do realise their mistake once I open my damned mouth. You ain't like them though, are you?" you weren't sure if you were supposed to answer so you just shook your head, hoping that was the right thing to do. "Y'see, that's why I like you" he hummed.

"You do?" you asked as you found your voice again, looking up at him curiously.

"Always have. But havin' those sorts of feelings was overwhelming enough, and then you had to go and throw me off by returning them. Not many people surprise me but you did, you always do" his fingertips trailed up the side of your jaw, making sure you kept looking at him.

You had seen this side of Otis before. The soft side, the more normal side, the human part of him. And that had played a large part in your feelings for him, knowing that there was so much more to him, and all of him you loved, even the sinister parts.

"Well...I do like you, Otis. I like you a lot, I just thought you'd never feel the same" you confessed as you timidly rested your hands against his chest.

"Now, how couldn't I feel the same about someone like you" he smirked slight as he fully cupped your jaw in his hand.

"I'm not too boring for your tastes?" you asked a little playfully, making Otis chuckled slightly.

"You know exactly what is hiding in the basement and you're still here, you are far from boring, darlin'" he assured you, making you smile.

You watched him carefully, gaze scanning his face, as you waited for him to make a move. He had you between a wall and his body, his hand was still against your jaw, and he didn't look like he planned on moving anytime soon so surely he was going to kiss you.

You finally had him so close at last, knowing that he felt the same about you, and you needed him to kiss you but...he just wasn't moving.

So, taking matters into your own hands, you slipped your hands up to the back of Otis' neck and pulled him down until his lips met yours.

Once again, Otis was taken back by you. By how much you genuinely wanted him, cared for him, and felt for him.

But he quickly took control of the kiss, the hand on your jaw moving to the back of your head to hold you in position. His other hand found your hip as he pressed you up against the wall, hand sliding up your waist as he slotted a leg between yours.

Your fingers tangled in his long hair as he pressed himself closer to you, feeling you arch into him as he wrapped his arm around your waist, his hand landing on the small of your back to hold you even closer.

"Otis!" Mama's voice rang through the house, neither of you had heard the back door open and close. You braced your hands against Otis' shoulders as you pulled away from the kiss, both of you turning see the woman stepping into the room. "Oh...well, don't you two mind me. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me, alright?" she smiled kindly, looking between you both, making you blush before slipping right back out of the room.

"C'mon" Otis snatched your hand in his before tugging you towards the stairs.

"Shouldn't Baby be home soon?" you asked, glancing back at the front door but didn't fight him in the slightest.

"Who cares?" Otis asked, muttering slightly, probably already annoyed by the possibly of somebody else coming in and disturbing you both. You just shrugged and smiled, letting the man guide you up the stairs as if you hadn't been in the house so often.

"Glad you two finally got together!" Mama called from the kitchen when she heard footsteps heading up the stairs.

"Fuckin' hell" Otis rolled his eyes, making you laugh. You liked these moments in the Firefly residence, the moments were they really did just seem like a somewhat normal family. And you were happy to be a part of that family.

[imagineredwood]

Request:  Reader hides her feelings for Angel but EZ knows, something happens where Angel finds someone else and introduces them to the club. Reader is heartbroken and distant to the point EZ has to explain why she is when Angel is upset at her for blowing him off

Pairing: Angel x reader, EZ x reader (platonic)

Warnings: Heartbreak, angst, emotional hurt, crying 

Word count: 2.6K

**What do we want to see happen here? 👀***

“You should just tell him.”

You looked up from your lunch to look at EZ instead, the prospect still eating his food.

“Tell who what?”

“Tell Angel that you love him.”

EZ looked at you then, seeing as you opened and closed your mouth, trying to come up with an excuse or defense. EZ cut you off before you could though.

“Don’t even try to lie. I know you. I can look at you and tell what you’re thinking. You’re in love with Angel, and you should tell him.”

Shaking your head, you looked back down at your plate, messing around with your food.

“It’s not that simple, EZ. Angel is so…he’s got such a different life than me. I can’t see him ever loving me. Not in the same way that I love him at least.”

EZ wanted to keep encouraging you, but he could see that your love for his brother was complicated. You did not get giddy and doe eyed like most people did when they spoke of the one they loved. Instead, you seemed down. Unsure and frustrated. No doubt yearning for someone that was not yours could do that to a person. With a sigh, EZ reached across the table, stroking the back of your hand in comfort.

“Just…talk to him. Hint around, see where he’s at. I know it can be scary when there isn’t much being reciprocated. You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

You nodded quietly, taking his words to heart.

“I’ll try.”

At that, EZ smiled.

“Good. We’re having a big party this Friday. Come by. You can spend some time with him and see where things go.”

With a smile of your own, you nodded. You still had time to plan a nice outfit that would draw his attention.

“I’ll be there.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Friday rolled around before you knew it and you had gotten yourself dolled up. Nothing crazy or extravagant, but you had been more particular. Put it more effort, and it shows. You had even managed to find a dress in the deep, gorgeous green that Angel liked. The dress was as close of a match to his bike as you were going to get, and you hoped that he would notice the effort.

Shoes on and keys in hand, you left your house and got into your car, making thee drive out to the clubhouse. Your hands were shaking the entire time, tense on the steering wheel as you drove. You felt confident and beautiful, but that did not do too much to soothe the anxiety you felt in the pit of your tummy. What if he said no? What if he decided that you were better as friends? Or that you just weren’t what he wanted? The thoughts were almost enough to have you make a U-turn and head back home, but you were already so close, the lights from the clubhouse illuminating the yard. Swallowing, you pushed through and pulled into the yard, parking by the other cars.

You stayed seated in your seat for a few moments, taking deep breaths, in through your nose and out through your mouth. You were nervous yet excited. Sure, it could end with you getting shot down, but the idea that there was a possibility of Angel caring about you the same way that you cared about him was enough to tip the scale. You had been friends with him for a while now. You trusted each other, looked after each other. Checked each other when needed. Angel was absolutely your best friend. But you wanted more.

You imagined Angel loving you more. Loving you romantically. Loving you in the way that elderly coupled loved. The way that he coupled loved in your favorite books. You would always take whatever love Angel would give you, but it would be a lie to say that you did not want more. You wanted more of Angel. You wanted him to spend more time with you one on one, going on dates with you. Kissing you, being there with you when you really needed someone. To share a home with you. To think of those things made your heart skip a beat. You loved Angel more than anything, and all you wanted was for him to love you back.

Taking one last deep breath, you steadied yourself and hopped out of your car, smoothing down the front of your dress. Looking around you saw that EZ had been right. It was a bigger party than usual, more Mayans from other charters present and even more women. You felt better as you saw many of them in dresses as well, thankful you hadn’t gone too over the top. Locking your car, you started walking through the lot and going up to the clubhouse entrance. You looked over at the bikes and noticed that Angel’s was not there, but you didn’t think much of it. He had probably gone with someone else to pick some stuff up for the party.

You entered the clubhouse, the music much louder now that it was not muffled by the walls. Stepping in, you looked around, eyes scanning. You saw Coco off to the corner and he raised his arm, waving to you before motioning for you to come over. Just seeing the people that had become your family was enough to soothe your tummy a little bit more and you walked over to them, Taza wrapping his arm around your shoulders before kissing the side of your head.  

“Glad you could make it, kiddo.”

You made your way around the table, greeting the members of this charter and some from others. You stopped to stand by Coco, the one you were closest to, after the Reyes brothers. He stood from his seat and gave it to you, waving his hand when you tried to argue.

“Sit, mama. I’m good.”

You fell into conversation with the men, some of the club girls coming up to say hi and hug you. EZ could barely get time away from grabbing new beers to sit with you but that was alright. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, genuinely enjoying the company. It was not until the door opened and you saw Angel enter that you remembered why you had been so nervous in the first place. You all looked as Angel started making his way over, shaking hands with members as he walked up. By the time he got to the table, your heart was already thudding in your chest. Of course, you weren’t going to tell him as soon as he got in. You would wait until much later. Once he was finally at the table though, he turned behind him and let a girl that was standing there come to now stand in front of him. They both smiled as they looked at the group, Angel’s voice excited and proud.

“Sup, guys. This is my date.”

The girl smiled somewhat shyly having all the eyes on her, but she waved nonetheless, everyone wearing wide grins as they greeted and welcomed her.

You on the other hand felt like you had been shot.

The blow to the chest practically knocked the wind out of you and your stomach felt like you were on a roller coaster. You tried to keep your face neutral but as you looked on, Angel standing behind her with his hands on her shoulders watching happily as the Mayans complimented his new girl, you felt like the world was crashing down around you. You could hear your blood pumping in your ears, and you stood from your seat, no one noticing as the attention was on the new addition. You slipped away quickly, heading to the bathroom praying it was empty.

It seemed that the universe had taken pity on you and thankfully the bathroom was empty. You had barely gotten the door closed and locked before the heavy tears started to stream down your cheeks. The music was loud, and you knew no one could hear you anyway, but that didn’t stop you from covering your mouth to muffle the sobs.

Never in your entire life had you felt both so broken and stupid at the same time. You did not expect Angel to be single forever. You knew at some point he was going to want to get a girl that he could settle down with. You just didn’t think it was going to be so soon, and you sure as hell didn’t expect him to bring her on the night were you had finally gathered the courage to tell him how you felt. It was as if the world was playing a sick joke on you.

With your back against the bathroom door, you tried to steady your breathing, bulky tears still rolling down your cheeks. Reaching for the toilet paper, you grabbed a wad and turned to the mirror, trying to wipe the tears before they made any bigger of a mess. Just then, a knock came from the other side of the door and you cleared your throat, trying to make it sound as if you weren’t in there having the breakdown of your life.

“I’ll be out in a minute.”

You expected it to be one of the girls or maybe another member. You were surprised to hear EZ’s voice on the other side.

“Open up, querida. Come one, let me in.”

You hesitated, not wanting him to see you like this, but opened the door against your better judgement anyway. As soon as his eyes landed on you, he tilted his head with a pout and came into the bathroom, closing the bathroom behind him and locking it again.

“I’m sorry, y/n. I…I didn’t know he was bringing someone. I never would’ve asked you to come if I knew he was doing that. I wouldn’t have done that to you.”

You shook your head and tried to force a smile, still dabbing at your eyes and cheeks.

“I know, EZ. I know. It’s not your fault. It’s not his either. I’m happy that he found someone, it’s just,”

You couldn’t complete the sentence before a fresh wave of tears was brought on, EZ snatching you into his arms. He held you tightly, one hand stroking your hair as he cooed at you.

“It’s ok, mama. It’ll be ok. You’ll find someone. You’ll get over him in time and find someone for you and then this will all just be a memory.”

You knew that he was trying to comfort you but hearing him say out loud that having Angel just wasn’t a possibility anymore only deepened the crack in your heart.

You cried on his for a few minutes more before pulling away, your hiccupping sobs gone. Turning to the mirror though, it was still painfully obvious that you had been crying. Eyes puffy and your top lip a little swollen from all the rubbing your nose. You turned toward EZ and the pain on your face and in your voice made his heart clench.

“I just wanna go home.”

EZ nodded and started to open the door for you.

“Head out through the back, I’ll go and grab your purse for you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

It had been nearly two weeks since that night and you had yet to see Angel. He had texted you the morning after the party to see how you were doing. EZ had told everyone that you had gotten sick and had to leave early. They had bought it but now Angel was wanting to hang out like you both usually did. You were normally inseparable and now you had barely spoken. You would answer his texts, but they were short. He had tried to make plans and you had come up with excuses why you could not make it. You had just been spending your time at home trying to heal from the heartbreak.

It was your first one, and while you knew that the pain would not last forever, that did not make it any easier to deal with. Your tears still snuck up on you out of nowhere sometimes whenever he popped into your mind. It was like a grieving process, and as much as you wanted to try and get back to normal, you just could not face him. You figured Angel wouldn’t even really notice your absence, too caught up in the honeymoon phase with his new girl. The truth was the exact opposite was happening.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

“What the fuck is her problem? Every time I hit her up, she’s got an excuse.”

Angel angrily tossed his phone onto the table, both Felipe and EZ looking at him. The father and youngest son shared a look before Felipe went back to slicing up the pork. EZ looked at Angel who now sat back in his chair with an angry expression, arms crossed over his chest. EZ sighed and shook his head, looking out the window.

“Don’t be mad at her.”

Angel’s head snapped to him, an incredulous look on his face.

“What do you mean, don’t be mad at her? She’s been blowing me off for two fuckin’ weeks! No matter what I say we do, she can’t make it. I ask if I can go over to her place, she says she’s not in the mood for company. She barely comes by the clubhouse and when she does, she makes sure I’m not there. What the fuck is that about? I haven’t done shit to her and now she’s avoiding me like the plague. Some fuckin’ friend.”

Angel huffed as his finished ranting, EZ looking directly at him now.

“You broke her heart, Angel.”

The older brother stared blankly before shaking his head as he blinked repeatedly.

“What are you talking about?”

EZ sighed, turning his body to his older brother.

“She’s in love with you, Angel. She has been for months. It’s not a crush or wanting to sleep with you, she fucking loves you. She thinks the sun shines out of your ass like you’re the most perfect thing in the world. That night? When you brought your new girl? I had convinced her to come by and tell you. She went out and bought a dress to grab your attention and everything because I convinced her to just see how you felt. She showed up thinking that she might finally get a chance to be with you, and you came with another woman. You have the right to be with whoever you want, I’m not saying you don’t, but don’t be mad at her. She had her heart broken and was humiliated all within 5 seconds. That’s why she’s ‘blowing you off’. She just can’t…she can’t look at you. It hurts her too much.”

All the anger in Angel’s face and slowly melted as EZ was speaking, but by the time he finished, Angel looked like a kicked puppy. Brows knitted, mouth open slightly in a frown. He had no idea. He never once thought that you held anything more for him than the love of a friend. He had been with plenty of Vicki’s girls and you had never really batted an eyelash. That was much different than having a girlfriend though. He shook his head in disbelief.

“Obviously I never meant for her to get hurt. I wouldn’t have shoved another girl in her face if I knew.”

EZ shrugged, nodding.

“But you did, and she is.”

Angel cursed, slamming his fist on the table, the saltshaker toppling over from the force before standing.

“I gotta go see her.”

General taglist @piccasoe​ @ateliefloresdaprimavera​ @gemini0410​ @woahitslucyylu​ @my-rosegold-soul​ @that-chick212​ @everyhowlmarksthedead​ @glimmerglittergirl​​ @elcococruz​ @fanaticfangurl21​ @ifoundmyhappythought​ @encounterthepast​

Mayans taglist @dazzledamazon​  @abunnykisses @briana-mishell24​

Angel taglist @cardenasarmy @ezekielreyes

[douxspider]

— 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐲 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐧.

‘ARVIN RUSSELL x READER INSERT’

( potential spoilers for “the devil all the time” ) —  Reader is new to town, working at a bakery ran by a kind old lady. Getting used to the ropes of the city, a man in blue arrives unsettled, holding a bloody rag against his knuckles and shivering just slightly. (occurs after arvin approaches the three bullies.) 

warnings: blood, mentioned alcohol abuse, bullying. word count: 2,330 published: 9/17/20 ao3 link — part 2, 3

— — • — —

You didn’t ask for much in life. You didn’t want much. Your entire life you let the sea take you where it wanted to take you, and if it brought you to a flourishing island with the most beautiful sunsets and the softest sand, you let it. If it wanted to take you to the dangerous, icy hurricanes where waves clashed and thrown against each other and you drowned in the salty depth, you let it.

You don’t have a will, the town would mock you.

You were new to Ohio, originally coming from New York, and they liked to call you city girl. Your accent was more urban compared to the rural dialect around you. You stuck out like a sore thumb. The community grew together, knew everyone’s names, and when a random strange girl with only a plastic bag of clothes arrived at the nearest motel, it was all the rage.

Luckily, you managed to find a sweet baker lady to take you in. She had a plump figure, rosy cheeks, and graying auburn hair that spoke of pies and sunshine. Her name was Marilyn McCann, she was in her late 50s, and she had lost her two dear sons in the Vietnam war, her husband previously passing from health complications. Marilyn opened the baker, naming it McCann Boys in honor of them.

You were seated behind the counter on a stool, picking at a lemon and poppyseed muffin, placing chunks of the bread in your mouth and eating slowly. It was a quiet day, rain splattering against the window, most people wanted to bake indoors.

While you fidgeted with the book in your lap, idly reading it, you heard the bell ring. You glanced up, and instead of the man moving to the counter, he only took a seat by the window, a rag covering his knuckles as his hat hid his face. He refused to return your eye contact, which was used as a silent method of do you want me to come to you?

You were running the shop alone. You couldn’t ask Marilyn who this strange fellow was. You had to take the initiative.

Getting up from your seat, the stool groaned against the hardwood beneath you, and you made your way towards him. He was bouncing his jean-clad leg excessively, winding the rag around his tightened fist. There were dark stains on it, but you paid it no mind.

“Sir?”

The man twitched his head in your direction, his cap revealing only an inch more of his face before moving back down to the table. “Yeah?” His voice was low, a bit hoarse.

You leaned to the side a bit, crossing your arms, crooking a brow upwards. “You good?”

“Yeah, ah,” he spoke, moving his chin upwards to look at you, and he stopped. You did as well, a silent, complex tension thick between the two of you, before he continued, “Just uh… needed to sit down, s’all. Do I…” he cleared his throat after a voice crack, “do I need to buy somethin’?”

Shaking your head, you gave a quiet, slow, “No.”

Taking a better look at his hands, you noticed it was blood on the rag. So, he was getting that post-fight clarity. You moved to the back and grabbed some pure alcohol you and Marilyn liked to keep, pouring only a bit on a clean washing rag, before heading back to the mysterious man’s location. Taking his hands, he gave a quiet noise of surprise as you tore open his fingers from the old rag and placed it to the side.

“Lady, what are you— ow! Shit...”

Lightly sponging the rag against his knuckles, you then placed the new cloth in his hands, taking a seat in front of him.

The man in front of you seemed somewhat offended, clutching onto the rag and padding it over his knuckles, but also giving you a scowl. “The hell you do that for…? ‘Didn’t need that, I can take care of myself.”

“So, what’d the man do? Pissing contest taken too far?”

He removed the cloth from his hand and wrung his knuckles together, and you stared at the scabs. “Maybe you should keep your nose where it belongs, darlin’.”

You hummed, leaning over the table and resting your bare arms against the surface, looking out the stormy window. “Y’seem like a sweet girl,” the man spoke up, catching your attention, “but that kinda behavior here… askin’ too many questions, it can get ‘ya hurt.”

Eyeing him up and down, you tilted your head so it nearly rested on your shoulder. “Well… y’gonna hurt me, stranger?”

Brown eyes fogging over with clear distant memories, you watched his expression dampen, no longer seeming agitated but only conflicted. “No… no, I wouldn’t hurt ‘ya.” His voice was only a low grumble. “I was taught better than to hurt girls.”

Giving a hum as a response, you tapped your painted fingers against each other. “I’m not trying to be nosy,” you then confessed, “...just curious. Don’t hear much from this town regarding fist fights.”

“You’re the city girl?” With a wince, you nodded. “Ah.”

“That a bad thing, mister?” You asked, trying to analyze his expression. He seemed distant, staring off, before his eyes turned as round as saucers glancing at you.

“No, no, miss, I ain’t imply that. Lotta people know about you ‘round here, it’s rare for a cityfolk to come to this dot on the map,” he explained, “Just curious.”

Clearly that was an insinuation for you to indulge him on his question. Though, feeling smug, and honestly in your right, you told, “You tell me why you’re bleeding from your hands, I’ll tell you my harrowing tale of ending up in Ohio. How about that?”

Surprisingly, the stranger let out a quiet laugh. It was breathy, and for some odd reason you could tell he doesn’t do that often by the way it seemed foreign coming from him, the product from his lips being stopped with his mouth closing. “Fair. You’re good at this game, little lady.” He let his knuckles out into the open air before crossing his arms together, leaning back in the booth.

“My old man,” he started with a distant voice, grimacing at the latter, and you assumed there was a dark history there, “he taught me t’protect myself. To protect others. Now, he was no layabout, he was straight outta the war,” the stranger chuckled, “if anyone tried anythin’, he wouldn’t let ‘em. He taught me that with physical expression.” The jean jacket around his arms got tightened with his whitening grip. “Now, y’see, lotta folk in this town ain’t kind. They ain’t acceptin’, they don’t like new things. They don’t like concepts.”

You listened quietly, feeling your heart slow its pace within your chest, trying to silence itself to take in every word. “I got a sister. Step-sister. She’s sweet, but she ain’t like the others. They don’t like that.”

His jaw tightened as he looked out the window, his blue cap shading his eyes. “...Had t’put an end to it.”

An understanding finally settled in your head. You fiddled with the apron draped around your legs, chin tilted downwards as you took in the information. You looked back at him. “...That’s a good thing.”

“What?” He glanced at you from the corner of his eye.

“Protecting your sister. That’s a good thing.” You could tell he felt guilty only slightly, perhaps he was scared of himself, scared of what he did. “I never had a sibling growing up,” you told, “having someone there to protect me would’ve done me wonders.” The stranger moved his hand up to his mouth, rubbing the side of his index finger against his chin. You gave a weak smile. “People aren’t too kind here to me, so I don’t need to fantasize your sister’s reality. I can’t imagine what it must be like to be outcasted from your own town like that. Your sister must be a kind soul, being thrown to the wolves like sheep like that.” You shook your head. “It’s not right. I think you did what you had to do. Sometimes that’s the best you can do.”

He was staring at you, and you couldn’t help but to wonder if you said too much. If you were prying too much. You had never met this man before, he could’ve just killed someone for all you know for no rhyme or reason, he could be a sociopath, luring his next victim, but you trusted your gut on saying that this man was right in what he did.

The corner of his lips quirked upwards and he gave a quiet exhale through his nose, nodding his head before glancing at you, head tilted downwards. “Now, your story. Fair trade, little lady.”

With an amused smile, you shrugged. “Came from New York, had no ties. Father ditched when I was still learning my ABCs, mama abused alcohol, that’s what wound her up in the grave. Took that as my sign to go.” You recalled the dirty poor Manhattan streets you grew up on. “Manhattan… it’s a busy city. Too busy. No one knows ‘ya, but they assume they do.” You pointed at him to exaggerate, closing an eye, “If you’re in the wrong neighborhood, that’s what you are now. Wrong. I was a wrong, poor girl with no faith.”

“No faith?” The stranger asked.

“Faith didn’t keep me alive there. Only money.”

He nodded slowly. “Surprised to see someone here not lookin’ to God.”

You clasped your hands together and shrugged. “Well, when he brings me something nice, I’ll go to church.” Glimpsing up at him, you asked, “Do you have faith?”

“Only for my grandmama and sister. I ain’t got no interest listenin’ to a man for hours.”

“You seem like a family man, mister.” You smiled, leaning back. “Are they the only reason you’re here?”

A moment of hesitance resulted from him. “Yeah.”

You decided not to press further.

Taking in the quiet rain, you tapped your hands on the table beneath you three times and stood up, placing your hands on your hips. “Well, mister, do you drink coffee?”

He seemed so small in the booth, huddled up with his arms crossed, brown eyes that were no longer iced over with memories, but instead focused on you with a round childish charm to them. “Ah… yeah, I do.”

Smiling with a nod, you headed and started up the yellow coffee machine. You looked back at him, saw him staring out the window, and you finished up the mug of coffee and gave it to him, hot. Sitting in front of him with your muffin, you both indulged in your delicacies in a peaceful silence.

When his coffee was just about gone, he asked, “Mind if I smoke in ‘ere?” He wondered, and you gave him permission.

“Sure. The only thing I’m concerned about is the gross taste coffee and tobacco must have together,” Wrinkling your nose at the thought, the man laughed, amused as he placed a cigarette in his mouth and used a lighter.

He puffed in the smoke and then removed the cigarette from his mouth, pulling over an ashtray that rested on the table. Blowing through the thin slit between his lips, he murmured, “Arvin.”

“Hm?” You asked, wiping off your hands on your apron from crumbs.

“My name is Arvin Russell.”

Blinking at him, you smiled, testing out his name carefully. “Hi, Arvin. I’m Y/N L/N.”

Arvin seemed a little shy, his cap hiding most of his face before he moved his head up just slightly, catching your eye, pointing out, “‘Like that name. Suits you. A pretty name for a pretty girl.”

A little flustered, you pinched your bare lips together before giving out a breathy chuckle. He moved his cigarette to his lips, watching you closely, inhaling the smoke. “You’re sweet.”

Arvin smiled, the paper-wrapped cancer stick between his lips, he pulled it out with a quick huff and said, “You’re the sweet girl talkin’ to bloody strangers sulking in the corner of your shop and givin’ em free coffee, Y/N.” He was staring at the window when he said this, but his head turned towards you, relaxed against the seat behind him, tapping the ashes into the ashtray. “Y’deserve better than this place.”

Feeling overwhelmed with all the positive comments— you didn’t receive many— you tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Well, Arvin, I think you deserve good things, too.”

Arvin gazed at you, a soft expression on his face before checking his watch. “Have to head home.” You both stood and you began to clean up. Arvin went up to the counter and gave a few dollars, and you stared at the money, gawking before giving a nervous smile and shaking your head.

“You don’t need to do that, Mr. Russell—”

“Arvin was doin’ just fine, sweet girl,” Arvin said with a smile. “Y’helped me out today. Thank you. Genuinely. I wanna pay back however I can.”

You took the money cautiously, feeling shy.

“Take that money for yourself. Buy yourself another pretty dress,” he said, eyeing the one you wore and tipping his hat. He was about to leave before he turned, hand flat against the glass, the other tucking his old rag into his coat pocket and gazing at you. “...We’ll be seein’ each other again, Y/N.”

Feeling overrun with flustered emotions, you smiled and said, “I would sure hope so, Arvin. I liked having you around.”

Arvin looked to the side, murmuring, “Likewise.”

You were left in the silence of the bakery, the rain turning into a light mist outside. Pressing your lips together, you changed your weight from foot to foot, turning to lean your back against the counter and giving a sigh.

Each encounter with him from then on would slowly grow into something more.

[multifandom-girlie]

𝐅𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞

Imagine: "Can you do one where Daniel Gillies and the reader have an interview but they are divorced and have kids together *name doesn't matter*but the interviewer ask them why they divorce since it was unknown to why they did."

Pairing: Daniel Gillies x Wife!Reader

Warning: RPF, minorly angsty.

Words: 1813

A/N: I hope you like it anon, I will be honest it's not my best imagine but I really did try and make it the best I could. I hope you Enjoy!

The un-consensual ringing of my alarm tone triggered me to open my eyes. I glanced over to my phone and quickly made sure i didn't have any notifications before sitting up and wiping the crustiness of the sleep from my eyes. I decided to not wake the kids up yet, as it would be easier to get ready without two screaming children bouncing of the walls and begging for food. I chuckled the covers off and walked into my bathroom and heading straight for the sink to brush my teeth and wash my face. After I had, I heard two feet slapping against the hardwood flooring and I shut my eyes hoping for just two more minutes. I stepped out of the bathroom, guess we won't have a shower this morning then. Peeking my head out of the door, I saw two big brown eyes looking around my room. I put on a smile and walked over to them. It was my son, Tyler. I picked him up and sitting on my bed with him resting on my lap. I brushed his soft brown hairs out of his face and kissed him on the forehead as we hugged, like every morning.

"Good morning, baby. Are you ok ?"

He muttered a yes but still buried his head into my neck, I frowned. Of course I knew he was lying to me when he said yes but I thought it was just because he was tired from having just woken up. He's usually running around and screaming so loud you'd think he was getting murdered. The look on his face though wasn't just tiredness, it was a look he used to give me very rarely; when he was upset.

"I miss daddy, when can we see him ? Uncle Joe said that he wasn't sure if we gonna see him today."

I closed my eyes lightly. Damn you Joseph, making my job as a mom way harder than it already was.

"Don't listen to Uncle Joe, he's just playing around. I will make sure you see daddy today, I promise."

He made a big grin on his face, very similar to his father's and I couldn't help but smile back. God I missed that man, like crazy but I got two wonderful children and one on the way as a product of it. So, I will always have a part of him.

"Now, go and get your best clothes on to impress daddy when you seem him and tell your sister as well, okay ?"

He nodded running out my room and screaming to his sister, there it is...the screaming and running.

20 minutes later...

I was taking my first two aspirin of the day already and I had only been awake half and hour. Today was going to be a long day. I was sipping on the water when I heard the door knock and a bowl smash. I ran into the dining room to see that Lily's breakfast bowl was smashed into little pieces on the floor. She knelt down the pick it up until I spoke.

"Lily! Do not pick that glass up, I will do it. Go and put your shoes on baby and help your brother please. I need to go answer the door, hurry up."

I walked out of the dining room and over to the front door. Opening it I came face to face with Joseph, Paul and more importantly Daniel. I let them all in and as I was hugging Paul to say hi. I hear a bang followed by some crying in Lily's room. I widened my eyes and raced upstairs to her room. As I arrived, I saw Tyler standing in the doorway with a sheepish smile on her face.

"What happened ?"

"I haven't done anything, mommy."

"What was that bang then ?"

I moved him out the way and walked over to Lily, who was sat on the rubbing her bleeding knee. She started crying more as I went over to pick her up.

"Oh, baby what happened ?"

"T-t-tyler pus-sh-shed m-m-me o-o-ov-v-ver."

I hated seeing my kids cry it broke my heart. However, I managed to pick her up and take her downstairs whilst grabbing Tyler's wrist with my free hand. As we were walking downstairs, I asked Tyler what happened.

"She was trying to help me put my shoes on and being a bossy pants."

"Tyler, I asked her to help you. She wasn't doing anything wrong. Was that really want a good enough reason to push your sister over ? Look at her knee."

"I'm sorry, mama."

"Your saying it to the wrong person, baby."

As we walked into the kitchen and he saw everyone he screamed and ran into Daniel's arms. I would be lying if I said the sight didn't make my heart swell a million times but he had been naughty.

"Tyler James Gillies!"

Daniel looked up confused. Most likely thinking that I was trying to make sure Tyler didn't hug him.

"What did I just say ?"

I sat Lily down on the island and went to the medicine cabinet to get the band-aids, he trudged towards his sister and put his head down.

"I'm sorry I pushed you over."

She smiled at him in acceptance as I cleaned her knee and put on a band-aid. I lifted her down and I finished saying hi to everyone and walked out the door and then realised I didn't clean the glass up. I'll do it later.

At the comic con, 40 minutes later...

When we arrived, we were screamed at by millions of fans that had come from everywhere.However, if my kids weren't here covering their ears because of loud noise, I would've stopped and greeted a few of them. Not only that but since we were late, we didn't have much time but we did have a tight schedule.

5 minutes later...

Most of 'The Originals' cast had finished their interviews for a day but me and Daniel had been roped into to doing one more, just us. So, I let the kids spend time with all their 'aunts' and 'uncles' and we headed off. Wasn't looking forward to this.

"Hi Guys, I'm here with the lovely Y/N and Daniel Gillies. Who portray the sexiest vampires on 'The Originals' and we are going to be answering your questions that you've sent in on twitter."

I couldn't help but feel slightly awkward as he said 'Y/N and Daniel Gillies'. I thought everyone had been told now but it's okay.

"Okay so our first question comes in from @vampirefiction333 who says 'I really love Elijah and Aviana but will they ever have a relationship with each other because I NEED it.'"

"Um, I'm not entirely sure. We have certainly pushed in the past but I feel as though it just wouldn't end well."

"Yeah, I think what Y/N said was absolutely right. Considering her past relationship with Klaus I don't think it would end well for Elijah let alone Aviana."

“Okay, next question come from @y/n.y/l/n_ishot. Creative username, um so their question is ‘I know that Daniel and Y/N aren’t together anymore but I really want to know where they had their honeymoon because have you seen the pictures😍!!”

We both laughed despite the user making a spectacle of the mutual split.

“We had our honeymoon at ‘The Samaya Bali’ hotel in Bali and we loved it. We stayed in the one bedroom royal courtyard villa, which was just incredible.”

“Yeah it was wonderful because it’s quite a small and private hotel by it is beautiful and it was definitely worth every penny.”

“That sounds great. Okay, last question is from @Y/NandDanielGilliesShipper. Very long name but uh their question was ‘I really wish Y/N and Daniel stayed together and it hurts that I don’t know the reason why they got a divorce. Someone please tell me😭.”

We both looked at each other and smiled slightly before he nodded for me to go first.

“Um okay. So, it was a mutual decision, we just realised that it wasn’t working anymore. I think that first initial spark that we had kind of disappeared and due to that the relationship just felt like a burden almost. The last kinda months we were together we just spent constantly having small disagreements which would then lead to a much bigger argument. I don’t think either of us deserved that and so we had a talk and we decided it was just better off.”

He looked at me kinda sadly as we knew the main reason behind those arguments but for the sake of privacy we decided to keep it to ourselves.

“Yeah what Y/N said. I believe that there is always going to be a deep and passionate love between us, there always will be. I think that’s due to how young and naive we were when we even started dating and then not long after we met; we married and had kids so yeah there will always be some love there, no matter what. I just feel as though because of being each other’s first every thing it led us to believe that there was nothing else.”

“Do you believe there is something else ? Not to make you feel uncomfortable or pressure you into answering.”

We all chuckled.

“No honestly it’s fine. I do believe there isn’t something else out there even if I haven’t fallen out of love with Y/N. There always is something else out there.”

“I think there is a lot of truth in what Daniel’s saying but we both definitely need to let ourselves heal and let our children heal before even entertaining the idea of new people.”

“Talking of your children, how’d you tell them ? How did they handle it ?”

“They handled it quite maturely, I have to say. Which was quite shocking as they are both very upbeat all the time and they are never serious or truly upset. So, to see them so quiet was kind of worrying actually. I think they were in a state of shock for just a moment and then they had a little cry and they accepted it. It was quite sudden though, which I do regret. They literally woke up 20 minutes prior, I was drinking coffee, Daniel was making breakfast and it was normal but then we just sprung it on them whilst they were eating breakfast. So, if we could change that I would but I think the sooner they knew, the smoother and quicker the healing would be.”

He smiled at us. I looked at Daniel and we smiled at each other once again. I was happy for him whether he was moving on with someone else or not. Even if we weren’t together there was still and us and that was some hope and I love that.

I loved him.

No.

I love him.

Children:

Tyler James Gillies- 7 years old

Lily Aviana Gillies-5 years old

MASTERLIST

[sukumen]

Ohhhhhhhhh curse! Reader protecting her descendants is Gud Stuff™️!!

Imagine this tho: they can only see her until they turn roughly 5 to 8 years old, somewhat like an imaginary friend that is EERILY similar through the generations and likes to be called Mama

Imagine she’s the defender of the children no matter who or what the threat is. A child is retrieved perfectly unharmed from a housefire, as though they had been preserved in a bubble of safety. A rabid animal suddenly coughs up it’s insides and drops dead chasing a child in the yard. A deranged mother, CERTAIN that her husband cheated, threatens to kill their child, and when the police arrive they discover she’s thrown herself out the window instead...

Aside from that tho, would the reader be prejudiced to her own blood relatives? Or would she protect step-descendants as well?

warnings: animal violence / gore (in ask), violence / implied violence, murder

GOOOOOD THIS JUST GAVE ME CHILLS! like this is like my perfect horror movie scenario, i’m obsessed. 

everyone outside of the family scoffs or grows uncomfortable when one of the children starts to refer to this ‘mama’, but their parent who’s the descendant doesn’t even bat an eye. “ah,” they think, “it’s their turn now.” 

and can you imagine the rumors that must follow this family? beyond the things curse!reader does to protect them (the mother one! wowza!), there’s also the issue of that much cursed energy drawing other curses in, much like sukuna’s finger. there’s no way there aren’t lower level curses abound in the places they live. they never get close to their family for the obvious reasons, but they make good work of their neighbors, their teachers, their friends. there’s just always some destruction in their wake. not many connect the dots, but they never stay in one town more than a generation or two, just to be safe. 

i feel like curse!reader is definitely partial to those related by blood. it just falls in line with what they would have done in the harem / compound all those years ago, like did she actively dislike the other wives and their children? no, never. was there an obvious hierarchy and at times rivalry between all the women, trying to get more in sukuna’s favor to secure their place? absolutely. and i think all the mothers would’ve ultimately protected their kids at the expense of everyone else, so that mentality would follow reader as a curse. probably get a little twisted too which makes me think about step!siblings that bully a descendant and gets hurt...

maybe it’s the first time reader is manifesting for that descendant too. this step-sibling is older, bigger too, and isn’t taking well to this stranger in their home. so they’re a menace -- pulling hair, stealing toys, the typical things kids do when they lash out. it’s malicious and misguided, but overall not necessarily a major threat.

but mama doesn’t discriminate. she doesn’t see threat levels or nuance - she sees someone hurting someone she loves and she acts. 

i can’t say that she’d have it in her to outright kill the child, but they are certainly in no good shape. the doctors say they must have fallen on their arm at an odd angle for it to break the way it did, but the descendant -- and their step sibling -- know better. 

there are bruises in their arm - finger size - to ensure they do.

[peanutpinet]

Nine Percent scenarios my brain thought of when I first saw their pics

ALRIGHT FIRST OF ALL!! SILVER KUNKUN!! I’M DEAD!! NEXT OF ALL, I HAVE 2 DIFFERENT OF SCENARIOS WHEN LOOKING AT THIS PIC, MKAY!

SCENARIO 1: Kun saw you attending an event that he was also attending (let’s say mafia/gang meeting, which you have no idea of) and he asked for one of the staffs to guide you to another place so he could meet you and ensures your safety

“Please ensure her to the other room, I’ll be there shortly”

SCENARIO 2: So, second scenario, I can imagine Kun seeing a guy eyeing you from afar (let’s say it’s still the same meeting he was attending) and other men were either trying to come up to you/flirt with you (which, Kun does not approve whatsoever) and he requested permission from the staff so he can go to your side.

“I want them, in a room. Alive.”

ALRIGHT BOI!! THIS SMILEY SUNSHINE JUST FLIPPED 180 AND BECAME LIKE A CEO (NAHHH, ALSO THIS IS SCENARIO DOESN’T REALLY HV YOU BUT IT INVOLVES YOU, JUST HEAR ME OUT!!)

So, I imagine that Nongnong and you were very close, working under the same company and all. Then, our precious nongnong (because of his hardwork and sunshine smile) was promoted into the CEO of the company and he appointed you to be his assistant. THEN!!! Y’all had to attend this meeting with a business partner which was fine and all until the freaking representative of the business (a guy) was eye-f*cking you, would even discuss the business more with you instead of Nong (because let’s be real here, who would’ve thought this soft boi is the CEO). Time skip to after the meeting, Nongnong requested to meet this representative, alone!! 

Then, Nong was like “How about we talk real business here. Like how you were eye-fucking (OMO CURSE NONG) my assistant-girlfriend”

ALRIGHT, “BEATEN UP” CHENG IS LIKE HAWT?! LIKE HOW?! ALSO, THIS SCENARIO MAY BE A QUICK ONE BUT LIKE, THIS IS WHAT MY BRAIN THOUGHT OF SO YEA...

This pic, I imagine, something happened to you and Cheng was not going to let it slide that easily. After taking care of you and making sure you were safe and rested, he went out and hunted searched for the very people who hurted you. Not letting any of them to catch their breath, putting them down (not permanently, but feel free to imagine this), making sure they know who they were dealing with when they went out to hurt you, even if it means that he’s risking his own life.

“They should’ve gone for the head when they had the chance. Oh well, their loss. What’s done is done”

Alright, this may be slightly similar to Chengcheng’s scenario but not really. Let’s get to it!!

So, when I first saw this, I immediately thought of both you and Justin were held captive by another gang (9% is a gang of their own and Justin was just so happen to be with only you, not the others, and was busy protecting you, being outnumbered by a lot, hence why you both ended up being held captive). Both of you were in the same room and though it was just Justin getting beaten up for information at first (which he does not leak whatsoever), it wasn’t long before the gang decided to beat you up for information as well, or even to break Justin, making him leak something. INSTEAD!! What they got was a very pissed off Justin who eventually broke free (specifically, when his geges have arrived to save them and it distracted everyone).

Justin then had a one vs one fight with the one that beated you up and the building was starting to collapse. The opposite gang thought that maybe Justin was done for. BUT NOPE, CUE THE PICTURE!! HE SURVIVED

“I’m going to give you a light head-start. By the time I count to five, you better hope that you’ll be able to find an exit because, you’re nex7 (LMFAO CAN’T HELP IT)”

SOMEONE HELP!! I’M DED (AGAIN). QUICK TALK, THIS HAS GOT TO BE ONE OF THE BEST PHOTO SHOOTS HE HAS DONE!! LIKE THE HAIRSTYLE, OUTFIT, ACCESSORIES (THAT STICK) IS JUST *CHEFS KISS*. ALRIGHT, ONTO THE SCENARIO BEFORE MY BRAIN FORGETS

So, I imagine that (again, 9% was a gang/mafia of their own, that is for a good cause!!) Yanjun was supposed to meet up with a “business partner” which he was not excited to begin with. But when he heard the news that you were hit on by the “business partner”, something in him was just burning up that he decided to invite them to his (more like 9%)’s bar and have a nice talk fight.

“I heard that you like playing with people’s feelings and emotions. Well, I like to play too. I like to play with pool, drinks, *shifts to dark gaze* the items in this bar that will soon fly around and not to mention blood”

Alright, first things first, let us ignore the yellow fluffy jacket he has and imagine he was wearing a suit XD But alright, just like Kun, I have 2 different scenarios for Mama Ting!!

Scenario 1: He was fighting with a bad guy/person that “accidentally” hurt you and the guy ended up being limp, trying to escape Zhengting. Buth oh ho no boi, you mess with the wrong person. Thanks to his long flexible legs, he managed to get through every obstacle and following the limp guy in the escape stairs.

“You should really save your energy to say your last words instead of escaping from me. Because, let’s be real, you can’t escape. I (actually the whole 9%) own this building”

Scenario 2 (a bit darker/yandere-ish): you had just found out that your boyfriend, Zhengting was basically “obsessed” with you. He doesn’t mind if you were with your friends that are girls. No, he’s actually happy that you have a good social life and maintain it. However, when it comes to guys, that was definitely not the case.

Sure, it seemed that he was the typical “jealous” boyfriend and he tried his best to not let it get the best of him. But when he found out that you and one of your best friends (that is a guy) went out together with your other friends and play an escape room together, to say Zhengting was jealous was an understatement. 

He felt slightly betrayed that you didn’t at least let him know that you were going to play an escape room with your friends and one of them just so happened to be your guy best friend. Ho-hoh, beware my friend because you were in for a treat.

What seemed to be a fake horror/thriller escape room quickly shifted to a real one the minute you and your friends heard screaming, realising that the scream came from your guys friend, all of you decided to run for your life. Shouting for help. When you saw Zhengting in the escape room, you were first relieved that your boyfriend came to save you. But when you found out he was the one that killed your guy best friend, you knew you had to escape. Unfortunately, escaping Zhengting after what you had done was nearly impossible.

“Sweetheart, where are you going? You know you can’t outrun me. I think it’s best for you to just give up. I wouldn’t want to harm you”

SORRY FOR THIS SUDDEN TURN OF EVENTS!!

First and foremost, can someone cast Ziyi (along with his bros) in like an action movie or something like dayum!!!

Alright, this is going to be a short and sweet one. You were basically held hostage and Ziyi finally came (with his bros, don’t worry) to save you. He looked at the situation and quickly diverse a plan so you wouldn’t get hurt anymore.

“Alright, Xiaogui, Cheng, create a diversion. Once they’re distracted, Jun, Justin, take them out but not kill them, we need information to what it is they want from (Y/N). Then I’ll try my best to release (Y/N). Afterwards, Nong and Zhangjing, quickly take her to safety”

Can I just say, dayum Xiaogui!! Boi skipped motorcycle, car, truck and straight for the plane (JK)

Alright, for Xiaogui’s scenario, I feel that him and the others managed to rescue you and some other hostages/victims from the enemy. However, the enemy manages to “escape”. Well, not really, since Xiaogui and Zhengting already devised a plan just in case if the enemy does manage to escape. Which is basically hijacking their system and transport. In this case, their plane 😎😎

“Hi, yes, captain Linkai a.k.a Xiaogui speaking. Do fasten your seatbelt as we prepare to head to prison shortly *cue him putting on those shades*” 

OMO!! YOU ZHANGJING IN A BAR?! LIKE!! GUYS!!! HE’S NOT JUST OUT FOR THE FOOD BUT THE DRINKS AS WELL!! OKAY OKAY, SCENARIO!!

The scenario I thought of when looking at this pic of Zhangjing is that he was spying on you and your friends (who were out partying) when the opposing enemy of 9% were at the same bar. At first, Zhangjing would be subtle with the situation. Not really showing himself and all. But when he saw you sitting at the bar and an enemy of the boys decided to hit on you (out of all the girls/guys in the bar), he just bluntly went behind the counter (because let’s be real, I’m sure the boys have enough money to buy a bar, LOL).

“Hi, welcome to our bar. How would you like your drink? Hot? Cold? Or punch? Like what I’m about to do to you if you do not get your hands off of her”

SORRY SORRY, I JUST HAD TO INSERT THIS GIF XD

[auroras-blend]

The Enemy of My Enemy

Summary: Vittoria meets the one, the only, the woman who convicted her father, the ex-wife of her arch-nemesis, a dynamite lawyer: Marie Thibodeaux!

Notes: Told in Vittoria's POV. Marie is only a cameo 😢

A myriad of blue and purple puzzle pieces surrounded her skirt. Well, how am I supposed to do this in just an hour? Vittoria was more or less sour that her father left her with Sawyer in his office as he ran errands, because 1) she was with Sawyer and 2) she was bored out of her mind. When the door had shut, Sawyer had barked at her to be quiet and quite literally threw the puzzle box in her face and told her to play with it. It was brand new and she could only assume it was to go to one of the grandchildren he’d never seen. He barely has any photos of his family! There was a picture of him, his first wife, and two sons on his desk and another photo of his daughter to the side that both looked to be taken decades before she was born. I’d be sad if he were my father.

Sawyer was busy writing aggressively, his tone sharp and bitter as he was on the phone with someone. I should scream he’s killing me...that’d be funny. She giggled at the thought and earned herself a nasty scowl from the man himself. What was lovely about Sawyer was that he would swear around her because he knew damn well her mother did and he really seemed to be the only person who understood there was no more protecting her poor little ears, that he says stick out worse than Mickeys. They do not!

With a little huff, she began to assemble the puzzle of the sea, or at least that's what it said it’d be according to the box. And in her opinion, she was doing extremely well! “Look!” she pointed gleefully, “I’m almost done!”

“Wooooow,” Sawyer murmured, his eyes glued to his paper, “We should have you tested to see if you’re gifted…”

Vittoria pouted. “This is why you’re not married anymore.”

That little jab may have hit too close to home because he flung a paperweight at her that hit her in the face again. It wasn’t too heavy and it most certainly didn’t break anything, but the hate and suddenness of it made her start crying. “Keep your trap shut,” he growled.

It seemed he was even crueler today and of course she was his victim. Her little hands gripped the smooth glossy paperweight and threw it back, but it couldn’t go much farther than to bounce against the top of his desk. Her strength didn’t match his and she started bawling, “Pathetic weak little thing…”

“You’re so mean to me! I hate you and-,”

“WHERE IS THAT COCKSUCKING MORALLESS CLOWN-,” boomed a voice that made Sawyer go white as a sheet of paper.

The whites of his eyes were on display as he sprung out of his chair and shut the blinds. He ripped her off the ground and put a finger to her lips, “Shut up,” he whispered, “Shut up right now.”

Sobs still heaved from her body, the sounds being drowned out by the woman outside. “I-I can’t! You hurt me!”

“Fuck,” he cursed, “I’ll give you...two dollars! Two dollars if you’re quiet right now!”

Her cries quieted down, but not completely. Sawyer was close to trembling, his grip on her shoulders and the look in his eyes were pleading. Huh, he’s desperate… “Five,” she said.

Might as well...He grit his teeth and growled, “Fine. Now shut up.”

Vittoria nodded and retreated into the corner. “Ma’am, you can’t go in there-,” screamed the secretary.

Right as Sawyer was about to turn out the light, the door slammed open and smashed his hand against the wall. “Fuck!” he screamed in pain, pulling it close to him as he scrambled away.

The lighting fixtures flickered but remained on as who Vittoria imagined being the goddess Nemesis stood between the doorway to the firm and to Sawyer’s former safe haven. The woman was dressed in a dark navy blazer and skirt with a white undershirt. Circular glasses were falling down the bridge of her nose as her hateful gaze met Sawyer’s beady one. She had a straight-cut bob that fell beneath her chin, her hair grey in a way that demonstrated that too many people annoyed her in her lifetime. For a moment, her heart sank because that's what she could imagine her Mama to look like if she had lived that long. “You motherfucking son of a bitch!”

She even curses like Mama, well she has an accent. It sounded southern to her but with an air that she couldn't quite place. Despite being more or less terrified of everyone around her, she was unafraid of the woman. And she’s right. “Marie, you psychotic cunt, get the fuck out!”

The woman stormed right up to him and put her finger in her face. “HOW DARE YOU?! BRINGING HIM BACK!”

“It’s none of your business anymore, now get out! Call security!” he shouted at his poor shaking assistant.

“This entire case is my business! How much did it cost you to sell what you pass off as a soul?”

Vittoria giggled and right when she did, she clapped her hands to her mouth. The red-eyed gazes shifted to her, puffs of air coming out from their noses and mouths. “Oh...another one of your spawn’s spawn?” she sneered.

“No!” Vittoria protested, “I’m not related to him!”

The thought of being related to Sawyer revolted her to her core. “How fortunate for you.”

“I think so,” she smiled.

“Didn’t I tell you to be quiet? You lost that five bucks,” he seethed.

Damn.

“Who’s the kid?”

“I’ve been kidnapped!” she cried dramatically, wiping the remaining wetness from her eyes, “He’s a predator!”

Sawyer jumped, “No, she’s not! I did not!”

Her words seemed to be more terrifying than what the woman, Marie, threw at him. “You sick son of a-are you prostituting kids now?”

“ENOUGH!” he shouted, “Where’s that damn security?!”

“Because that’s the only way you can get rid of me, huh? Not in court but by men bigger than you to do your dirty work. Hell, you’re not even the boss. You don’t call the shots! You worthless piece of shit! How can you stand to look at yourself?”

“I ask him the same thing every day,” Vittoria shook her head sorrowfully.

“I’m this close,” he pinched his fingers and left a barely visible space between them, “To cutting out your tongue.”

Vittoria stepped back in fear. “Threatening bodily harm to a six-year-old? You really are a jack shit lawyer-”

“I’m nine actually. I’m just small,” Vittoria added. That information wasn't relevant but Vittoria thought it was.

“He also threw a paperweight at me,” she said pointing to the ball that stood still on the floor, “It hurt.”

“Oh...and assault. You really can’t get any lower,” Marie hissed, “I hope you can afford a good lawyer. I’d offer, but I despise you and I hate to take lost causes.”

Shivers rolled down her spine as she heard Sawyer grind his teeth. “Go back to the pits of hell where you belong, or whatever they’re calling Chicago these days, and maybe I won’t charge you for trespassing,” he snapped at the woman.

Marie scoffed, “You were so close to being free of him. And you brought him back, you pathetic worm.”

She could tell that dug into Sawyer deep. “He’s been a-,” he began to defend before eyeing Vittoria, “No. Just get out. I’ve got work to do.”

He retreated back to his seat and stepped on the puzzle she had been working on. No… Marie scowled at him, “You’re gonna end up dead one day.”

“We all do,” Sawyer sighed.

Anger rolled off Marie before her eyes met Vittoria’s. “Are you really okay, kid? You need any help?”

“I’ll survive,” she said politely.

Marie nodded. “If you ever need a good lawyer, don’t call him. He’s terrible, I should know, I was married to him,” she smirked, her eyes glowing with vindication at Sawyer whose own hazel eyes were full of hostility, “And I also beat his ass in court.”

Vittoria gasped. She was starry-eyed and already adored her, unknowing that this was the woman who convicted her father. Sawyer was glowering at her over papers, “ I’m meeting one of his ex-wives! “You poor woman. I’m so sorry,” she said with true genuineness, before clarifying her statement, “For being married to him. Not for beating him.”

Vittoria giggled at the last part. I love her. She’s mean to Sawyer. I’d do anything for her. She reminds me so much of Mama. With a last smile, she pushed by the security guards who finally arrived. Ooooh, Sawyer’s gonna fire them. Part of her was sad to see her go, knowing that Sawyer would wring her neck soon. For a moment, she had been transported back to how it was with her mother. It was probably a good thing Marie didn’t stay, otherwise, Vittoria most certainly would’ve imprinted on her and followed her around like a little duckling. “Can I be her?” she asked dreamily.

“No,” Sawyer said in a cold tone, “Come sit here.”

Vittoria obeyed and climbed into the large leather seat across from him, letting her legs swing back and forth as they couldn’t touch the ground. Wow, I feel like a grown-up. Sawyer put down his pen and looked at her. He wasn’t angry, just thoughtful and that confused her. He sighed and got up to open a globe in the corner of the room, “Whoa!”

Inside was an assortment of drinks and liquors that were half-empty. Beautiful amber-brown liquids filled the crystal cruet set, and Sawyer took the liberty to pour himself a drink. Sawyer closed the globe and gripped his glass and another empty one. Sawyer paused in front of a cabinet before opening the bottom door that revealed a mini-fridge. The cold air whooshed out when he pulled the door open, featuring rows of sodas, sparkling in their cans. “Rootbeer, black cherry, or strawberry?”

“What?” she whispered.

“Which one?” he asked again, gesturing to the sodas.

“Papa...Papa won’t let me. He won’t even let me have juice,” she frowned.

Sawyer shrugged, “Fine then…”

“Wait!” she called out before he closed the door.

She bit her lip. This is wrong. Maybe he’s doing this as a trap...but I’ve never had soda before. What if we get in a car crash on our way home and I die never having a soda?! No...Papa won’t let me and I have to be good for him, so no...I can’t have soda. And that’s that. “I’ll have the strawberry one please,” she said aloud and watched him pour the brown fizzing drink into a glass and hand it to her.

I can hear the bubbles! Vittoria felt giddy, excited to have something forbidden and sweet. Something she’d always wanted to try! A smile spread across her face as she put it up to her mouth, the foam and bubbles tickling her nose and causing her to sneeze. “Achoo!”

She wrinkled her nose to get rid of the itch as she pressed the thick crystal rim to her lips and tilted the glass back, allowing the sweet bubbly drink to drip into her mouth and leave a burning sensation down her throat. Vittoria coughed, “It burns!”

“That’s the carbonation,” Sawyer said plainly as he sat down again, “Vittoria...you know how we hate each other?”

She blinked, surprised at how honest he was being. “Yes…”

“Hm, well you know how we both love your father very much? And want him to be happy and safe?”

“Yes,” she said again, her voice worried.

“That woman who came in, my ex-wife, she doesn’t want that. She doesn’t want your father to be happy and she’s one of the people who believe lies about him. In fact, Marie is one of the people who spread those lies,” he scowled.

It was the first time she ever believed something Sawyer said. It was said with such a raw intensity that he couldn’t be lying to her, or at least lying to her entirely. “What?” she whispered.

“Vittoria, she’s not our friend. You can’t trust her and the moment she finds out you’re his daughter, she’ll want to exploit that, you. Marie will stop at nothing and will use you to take him down, which is why you can never tell her anything. Please, never talk to her again,” he said seriously.

“But...but she was nice,” she mumbled, to me.

Sawyer rolled his eyes, “Well this isn’t about us. It’s about protecting your father. So can you put our differences aside and treat her as what she is? A threat to our family?”

An alliance with Sawyer? She never wanted to agree with him on anything, but the way he was speaking set her nerves on alert. He means it...he’s serious. “Yes,” she agreed, “Anything for Papa. I-I don’t want to see him get hurt…”

“Good,” Sawyer nodded, “Then it’s agreed. You won’t speak to Marie or about her, ever again.”

“Agreed.”

“You are a smart girl, then,” he grinned, “One more thing, let me tell your father everything.”

“I’ll let you if you give me back my five dollars.”

“Not a chance.”

“I’ll go home and say it anyway,” she reasoned.

“Two dollars.”

“Three.”

“Two and a strawberry tab.”

“Three,” she insisted.

He narrowed his eyes, “Fine.”

“Thank you, Mr. Sawyer,” she said pleasantly.

Sawyer smiled greasily and leaned forward against his desk, holding out his drink. Vittoria took her cue and tapped her glass against his, a sweet clink, sounding out as they toasted. As she took a sip of her soda, she couldn’t help feeling like she made a deal with the devil.

[wolffesimp]

Beach Shenanigans

--

summary: the war was won. order 66 was never executed. the 501st, 212th, and 104th battalions along with y/n, obi wan keniobi, ahsoka, anakin, and padmé enjoyed their much needed island vacation. what ensues is beach shenanigans and MORE! stick around for a day full of laughs, crying, tanning, and swimming! 2.3k words of my imagination and clone happiness!

warnings: OH MY GOD SO MANY SHENANIGANS I SHOULD GET PAID FOR THESE ORIGINAL FUCKING IDEAS!!!!!!!!! alcohol is consumed. some mature themes. nothing explicit uhhh lots of fluff and cusswords cuz they make my writing ✨spicy✨yeah that’s pretty much it :)

--

--

y/n was unceremoniously awoken by rex

who was the devoutly loyal boyfriend

for him, she would fight a million more wars

“mornin princess. up and at em!”

“don’t wanna get out of bed...”

just then, there was a knock on the door

before anyone could announce come in

the door was busted down by a very enthusiastic battalion

namely, the 501st

y/n gaped at them

fives and echo held buckets and shovels for a sandcastle

smiles bigger than the deathstar 

jesse’s nose was white from the sunscreen that kix insisted he put on

tup’s naturally curly hair was finally down, a lei adorning his neck

dogma and hardcase had pool noddles in hand

meanwhile fives held a gigantic inner tube

kix had big sunglasses on, fresh glass of orange juice in hand

y/n could only stare for a few minutes

they all began to speak in sync

incredibly excited to finally dip their toes in the water and run on the beach

she laughed at them “suppose i should get out of bed!”

rex laughed with her, shaking his head at the antics of his brothers

standing up and shooing the boys out of her room, he made sure to close the door behind him

oh rex, he was too considerate for his own good

y/n slipped on her favorite swimsuit

along with one of obi wan’s t-shirts

grabbing her beach bag and slipping on her flip flops

she was out of her room

the clones were waiting impatiently downstairs

practically itching with excitement

y/n reached the landing, sliding on her favorite sunglasses

“hey guys! ready to go-“

fives picked her up into her arms, sprinting out of the house

“first one at the beach wins!”

the clones chased after the two

y/n squealed as fives held tightly onto her

“don’t worry y/n, i’m not gonna drop ya.”

“i know but rex is hot on our tail!”

fives panted

“like hell i’m gonna let him win!”

y/n giggled as rex fell behind

“hey rexie, suck my toe!”

“watch your mouth, y/n!”

she stuck her tongue out in response

rex chuckled at the antics of his girl

obi wan, cody, anakin, and padmé were far behind them

probably too mature to participate in such activities

let’s be honest if padmé wasn’t there anakin would be running too

ahsoka ran beside rex, smirking

“rex and i are gonna beat you!”

y/n finally saw the beach at the end of the boardwalk which they were running down

“c’mon fives! we have to win!”

he smirked down at her

“you know we never loose!”

fives cheered as they were the first one to reach the beach

setting down y/n, they waited for the others to catch up

in a frenzy, the clones ran to the ocean

ahsoka and y/n giggled at their faces of pure joy

“hey, wanna share this umbrella and mat i brought?”

ahsoka turned to y/n, smiling contently

“that sounds great!”

the two girls set up their camp for the day

towels beside each other

books, sunscreen, water bottles and everything in between 

y/n also brought out the extra towels she had

setting them by obi wan and cody

“for the clones who forgot their own”

obi wan was distracted by the clones in the ocean

“do they know how to...swim?”

cody and y/n stared at each other

“oh-”

“shit!”

y/n ran towards the clones

“PAUSE! PAUSE! PAUSE! EVERYONE OUT OF THE OCEAN! NO ONE IS DROWNING ON MAMA Y/N’S WATCH! JESSE, DON’T YOU HIDE, GET OUTTA THERE!” 

cody knew it was taken care of

he sat back down, basking in the sun

obi wan laughed heartily as y/n shouted at the clones

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME Y’ALL COULDN’T SWIM!! SWEET MAKER!!!! ONE OF YOU COULD’VE DROWNED!”

“kix would’ve saved us!”

“THERE’S ONLY ONE KIX, YOU IDIOTS!”

ahsoka giggled

y/n took off her shirt “hold this for me, sokie! lifeguard y/n’s on duty”

the boys catcalled y/n teasingly

“oooh yeah y/n!” ahsoka called out, hyping her older sister up 

the boys earning icy glares from rex

she kissed his cheek

making it clear that there was no need for jealousy

y/n waded into the ocean

motioning for them to follow behind her

“now...is anyone feeling nervous?”

well as it turns out...

the clones loved swimming

they all easily caught on

even becoming faster than y/n

much to her dismay

y/n and ahsoka playfully splashed each other

giggling as other clones joined in

cody and obi wan decided to join in on the fun

and when someone splashed cody it went quiet

y/n glared at fives

she knew it was him

fives whistled

looking around as if to say

“who? me?”

cody full force splashed fives back

next thing she knew a splashing war broke out

the 501st, ahsoka, and y/n went up against the 212th, obi wan and 104th 

boil and waxer were head to head with echo and fives

y/n and ahsoka combatted obi wan and cody

it seemed like no one was backing down 

until someone got kicked in the leg

practically drowning

mfs are genetically modified

getting kicked by them would probably seriously injure me i mean jesus christ

“dammit! this is why the 501st can’t have nice things!” rex cursed

tup was weak in the knees

but mama y/n was there to wrap him up in a towel

careful to dry his curly hair

setting him up comfortably

“we’re having lunch soon, so stay put for now, alright hun? make sure to hydrate!”

“thank you, y/n.”

“mhm!”

she took rex’s hand

dragging him back into the ocean

“tup will be fine! hey fives and sokie, let’s play chicken!”

explaining the game rules, y/n perched herself on rex’s broad shoulders

ahsoka was on fives shoulders

smirking at her opponent

“this’ll be fun!”

y/n and ahsoka’s arms collided

their laughs filled the air as they attempted to fight each other off

meanwhile rex clung to y/n’s thighs

making sure his princess didn’t fall into the water

fives attempted to kick his captain

only to earn a snarl and forceful blow to the chest

fives was knocked into the water

sending ahsoka flying 

y/n wheezed 

“holy shit!” rex remarked

quickly recovering her senses, concern taking over

“wait- AHSOKA! FIVES! ARE YOU GUYS OK?”

fives’ thumbs up shot out from the water

ahsoka’s montrals emerging from the blue sea

rex laughed pityingly at fives and ahsoka

“round two?”

well, there ended up being 10 rounds

all four of them were soaking wet by the end 

breathless and ready for a break

rex carried y/n as per request

she could be a little shit sometimes

rex secretly loved it 

ahsoka and y/n made room for fives, rex, and a few other troopers

“hey ahsoka, where are anakin and padmé?”

they looked around curiously

the place where they once resided were empty

“they are probably...ya know...”

y/n made crude gestures eluding to sex

ahsoka cringed, throwing a tube of sunscreen at y/n

“gross!”

rex put his head in y/n’s lap

her hand ran through his blonde curls 

which had been growing out since the end of the war

well maintained by y/n

who insisted on doing his hair

“oh get a room!” ahsoka teased

“we can always make out in front of you guys” 

“ewww”

“please don’t”

“i would rather not see my mother figure do that”

y/n and rex laughed

they were so beautiful together

it was clear that they would spend the rest of their lives with each other

as the day drags on, y/n falls asleep blissfully on her towel

luckily rex helped her with an umbrella so she wouldn’t get sun burnt 

the boys shenanigans continued on without her

fives and echo built a sandcastle the size of a shed

rex, cody, wolffe, and obi wan enjoyed margaritas beside the sleeping y/n

while ahsoka had a virgin piña colada

jesse was buried alive by dogma, tup, kix, and hardcase 

a few of the members of the 104th were flirting with a group of twi’lek girls 

flexing their muscles and battlescars

the remainder swimming in the ocean

the 212th were playing a competitive game of frisbee with island locals

fives and echo decided they were done with their sandcastle 

ushering the generals and jedi to check it out

they didn’t want to admit it, but they were very impressed with their work

y/n was still sleeping

fives was bored

so he took his bucket

washed out the sand

then refilled it with clean water

while echo was talking with the generals and jedi

unintentionally distracting them from the scene that was about to play out 

fives chuckled devilishly

pouring the water onto y/n

she screamed as the cold water hit her face and chest

eyes opening to an entertained fives

until he saw the look in her eyes

fives was so dead

instead of facing death in its face

he took off running, screaming to anyone who would listen 

“Y/N’S GONNA KILL ME!”

“HELP! ANYONE!”

“PLEASE HELP ME!”

*violent screams*

y/n was in hot pursuit of the dumbass himself 

running shockingly fast

not even breaking a sweat

rex cheered her on

having no idea what happened

but wanting to be a supportive boyfriend 

fives looked helplessly at anyone 

having nowhere to run 

y/n stopped running

finding an innocent sea creature on the ground 

“hi lil crab...you are gonna help me out here”

fives continued running as far away as possible from her

the crab settled in her palm

calmed by the aura y/n generated from the force

“fives! stop running! i’m done with your ass!”

fives was panting

knelt over

hot in the face

“i am so not sorry for what i’m about to do”

“wait wha-”

y/n shielded her eyes away as she dropped the crab into his swim trunks 

fives let out an ear piercing scream 

“WHAT IS IT IN MY SHORTS?!! ITS CRAWLING UP MY ASS!!!”

y/n was completely incoherent 

laughing so hard with tears come to her eyes

“IT’S PINCHING ME! OH IT HURTS! OHHHH MY ASS CHEEKS”

y/n couldn’t breathe 

knees buckling as she fell onto the sand 

obi wan and cody were extremely panicked

what the hell is wrong with fives?

obi wan approached him 

fives was jumping up and down

running in circles

looking like a complete madman

“fives what are you doing?”

“CRAB IN MY SHORTS”

“how is there a crab in your shorts?”

“GET IT OUT! IT’S IN MY ASS-”

wolffe was flabergasted 

“what?”

rex crossed his arms

already knowing who the culprit was

“y/n?” 

she staggered over to him

leaning into his chest as she wheezed

“shit- imma...imma pee my pants!! oh fucking hell if i would’ve known this-”

obi wan glared at her

fives screamed once again

“I HAVE TO DO IT!”

“do what?”

all of the 501st instantly knew what he meant

“fives don’t-”

“wait wait wait-”

“i swear to maker-”

“if he does it-”

fives dropped his shorts

revealing his ass and the rest of the land down under

y/n screeched

she saw something she could never un-see

the beach went silent

oh my god

fives just flashed the  e n t i r e  public area

echo looked embarrassed for his vod

but the relief on fives face...

the crab was promptly thrown across the beach

fives quickly pulled up his shorts

praying to god that nobody saw 

they did

“give us a warning next time, fives!” cody said judgementally

obi wan couldn’t even look at him

y/n hid her head in rex’s chest

“i want to go blind”

rex chuckled, playing with her hair sympathetically 

“i know i’m big, y/n!” fives called out teasingly

well someone recovered quickly 

“FIVES!” tup lectured

hardcase and jesse chuckled

meanwhile kix and dogma looked apologetically at y/n

“i can’t believe you...” she muttered to no one in particular 

the rest of the day went swimmingly

filled with even more laughs

a million holophotos 

is that what you call them??

followed by the envious photos from mace windu, plo koon, and kit fisto

they were definitley coming next time

ahsoka tried her first ever drink

don’t worry, only y/n saw! 

and ahsoka was above the drinking age on the planet they were in!

who else would permit her to do it?

besides, she had a theory ahsoka wouldn’t like alcohol

the theory was proven to be true

ahsoka spat it out

giving it back to y/n 

shortly after

y/n and ahsoka baked cookies for the boys

while rex, cody, and wolffe grilled out

wolffe was the real pro

even having an apron that said

“kiss the grill dad”

comet and sinker found it on some sketchy website

it proved to be one of the best gifts 

the rest of the boys brought down silverware, tables, and the firepits

preparing for another long night

waves crashing into each other as the tide receeded back

by the time ahsoka and y/n were back they enjoyed dinner and dessert beach side

a magical sunset painting the sky 

hues of pink, orange and purple

ahsoka snapped a picture of y/n and rex’s not-so-secret-kiss 

the sunset it the background

ahsoka needed to frame it and give it to y/n as a surprise 

the sun was down

fire crackling 

soft conversations between all battalions and jedi

calmed down by the end of the night

the distant sound of music 

to the clones, it felt like a dream

none of them thought they would make it past this war

but here they were

and they couldn’t be more thankful

finally, their future was promised

--

masterlist for more of my content 

[reflection-s-of-stars]

Free as a honeybee

This isn't Toph Beifong's first time running away. At nine years old, Toph is a spirited young girl who knows her way around the block. She likes sneaking out the back door at night, she likes hearing people ask if they've heard anything when she walked by. And she adores the feeling of the wind in her hair when she dashes through fields and forests and abandoned streets.

But this street isn't abandoned, not by a long, long shot. Toph knows it when she's rudely awakened by somebody's bare foot nudging at her arm.

Everybody's dancing, she can feel it. But it's far from what her parents would call beautiful. People are stamping their feet, laughing, screaming with joy, singing little snatches of the melody someone's playing on a lyre. It's chaos, pure, drunken chaos. But there's not an unhappy one among them, Toph knows that. And she aches for the sweet, unbridled freedom that she hears and feels and smells among everyone in this square.

"You new in town, young lady?"

Toph hears a swishing skirt and smells what she's pretty sure is wine. It's a lady, for sure, talking to her. She growls like a tiger when she talks, not at all like the soft-spoken ladies in her mother's social circles. Toph grins.

"You could say that."

"And I can see you're an earthbender."

"How can you tell?"

"We have looks about us."

Toph has a million questions, buzzing around like flies in her brain. Who is this woman? Why is she so open about being an earthbender, when she's exactly the kind of person that people don't like? That her father would hate?

Then again, Toph's father wouldn't exactly like what she's doing right now either.

"What's your name?"

“Toph.”

“Toph...”

She thinks for a moment. “Just Toph, thanks. Yours?”

"Persephone.”

The name sounds similar to that of Toph’s mom. Persephone, Poppy. Both names of the growing earth, yet one seems to have a lot more substance than the other.

"So you're an earthbender."

"Yes, you could say that. I do more with plants than most, though."

More questions, humming, buzzing, asking themselves. "What do you mean, plants? I thought earthbenders could only move, well, earth."

"Aren't plants a type of earth?"

"I suppose so, but I didn't know you could bend them. How do you do it?"

"Do you want me to show you?"

There's no harm, she guesses. "Sure."

Hours later, Toph and Persephone are kneeling over a small patch of earth, trying, trying to make a seed sprout. Persephone's done it a million times with ease, but plants don't seem to be Toph's strong suit- the most she can get is an inch.

"Why don't we take a break, hon? I've got some lemons that I've been meaning to put to use, and you seem like the type to like lemonade."

Toph is the type to like lemonade, so they leave. Persephone is staying in a little apartment above a bar that's owned by a man named Mr. Hermes. Toph can tell by the way he walks that she can trust him, at least a little.

“So why do you do it?” She asks in Persephone’s sweet-smelling apartment.

“Do what, darling?”

Toph normally wouldn’t like being called darling, but somehow she doesn’t mind when Persephone does it.

“Plantbending, or whatever it’s called.”

She laughs. It sounds like leaves crinkling in the fall. “I guess I don’t know anymore. I’ve been doing it for... Oh, decades now, maybe even more. My mama taught me how.”

Decades? She seemed younger than that. And yet, somehow, Toph can so clearly imagine Persephone laughing with the long-dead air nomads. How old even is she? Spirits, why doesn’t Toph ask questions like this beforehand? How does she know she can trust this woman?

And yet, Persephone trusts her. Not only that, she respects her. That’s not something Toph is used to.

I could live on this, she thinks.

She goes on. “You would’ve liked my mama, I think. She always had good advice.”

“Like what?”

“Make the most of what you can get. Have as much fun as you can doing it, too.”

“That doesn’t sound like my mom at all.”

“What’s your mom like?”

“Cold, closed-minded, overprotective.” Toph doesn’t even notice the bitter words are jumping out of her mouth until she hears them. “She doesn’t know I’m an earthbender. She wouldn’t want to know a thing like that. In her mind, I’m just a helpless little girl, but I’m not. I’m not! You knew that, you haven’t even known me for a day! She only sees what she wants to- ah!”

The floors, under which are only air, have caught Toph off her balance, and she tumbles onto what she thinks is going to be hard, splintery wood. But instead, she feels soft fabric and warm arms. The tears Toph didn’t know were falling hit the floor instead.

“Shh, shh. I know exactly what you’re going through. Some people are never going to see you for who you are, that’s something we’ve got in common. But you’re a strong, capable young lady. You’re a force of nature, Toph, and if you don’t think anyone’s gonna recognize that anytime soon, you’re welcome to stick around.”

Toph is stunned. She’s never known anyone to be so... she’s not even sure what. Warm. Or motherly. More than Toph’s own mother.

“Thanks.”

“Now let’s try it with some moss.”

[chocolate-parfait]

Okay, I just got myself a tumblr account to ask for this Ikémen Vampire scenario, because the world needs this. Can you do one where the MC questions Mozart about his song "Leck mich im Arsch" (Ger. for "Kiss my ass" (lit. Lick me in the ass). I just can't imagine IkéVamp Mozart composing something like this so please be creative and do something funny. The song really exists btw. Real Mozart was a savage.

Started off serious, became trashy insults somewhere in the middle

Mozart being asked about his song “Kiss my ass” - ikevamp scenario (TW; mature language)

Thoughts are in italic

Bold AND italic is just me highlighting something

"Ugh, it hasn't even been a week and Sebastian is already burying me with work!" You mentally whined as you stretched your arms over your head. "Collect the sheets, wash the dishes, polish the shoes and wash the tablecloths..." each chore you listed made one of your fingers go up, and as the count reached ten you let out a deep sigh. You weren't even nowhere to be finished. "...ain't mama raise no weak bitch. Better get done with this before Sebastian yeets me into oblivion", you quietly spoke to yourself before going back to your full time slavery.

A lonely figure in the long corridor, you walked slightly bent forward for both the heaviness of the basket you were carrying and the mental and physical tiredness of your untrained body. As you took a turn at the end of the hallway, the lone sound of your footsteps found a companion. A sweet melody, a familiar one you had heard as a child, drifted through the air and waltzed its way to your ears. About ten meters from you there was the music room; you remembered it from Sebastian's tour of the house, but mostly because of the ever-so-friendly white haired composer that threatened you to stay kilometers away from him unless you wanted to be smacked to outer space. You had every intention of listening to him and avoiding any type of unnecessary contact with the man, but right now an irresistible curiosity pushed your feet to the prohibited door.

Was he composing something? Would he let you listen to one piece of his or play a modern-time song if you begged hard enough? somebody come git her she's dancing like a stripper If getting on your knees and throwing the last ounce of dignity you still had out of the window meant getting to witness Mozart's genius with your own two eyes --an impassable opportunity, too taunting to be ignored-- then someone better had to open up their purse and buy you some protective knee pads, 'cause ya girl was ready to crawl all around the mansion to get that P iano performance.

Inhaling some well needed air to get oxygen to your already malfunctioning brain in preparation of what was to come, you left the heavy basket full of dirty laundry and responsibilities behind and gently pushed the door open while peeking in with your head through the opening. As soon as he felt a pair of eyes on his back, Mozart abruptly stopped his magical fingers to turn to you, face contorted in an annoyed grimace.

Mozart: what.

MC: I- uh- uhm,,,, uhhhh- I... um

"Great job, chicken brain. The hero I absolutely didn't need right now"

Mozart: "I- uh- uhm,,,, uhhhh- I... um"...? I understand 15 languages and troglodyte isn't one of them. If you have nothing to say then leave.

MC: wait I-

Mozart: you didn't even knock. Are you really that impolite or did you grow up in a cave or something?

It hadn't even been 30 seconds and you had already been owned so hard not even a burnt Thanksgiving turkey could compare to this level of roasting, but there was no way in hell you were going to give up just for some edgy frail-looking man spouting some insults at you. You could probably smash him to the ground if you wanted, maybe... actually it would probably end with him snapping your neck like a twig, but at least the will to punch him was there.

You were ready to talk back with a savage comeback of your own, but before your mind could send the input to your mouth, his curt tone cut you off.

Mozart: Staring at people is a normal thing for future people? Makes me pity mankind. Get out.

...as kind as ever, the pianist! Kinda makes you want to kick him in the shins but you kept that thought to yourself.

As you were about to leave, two pair of footsteps got nearer to you from the corridor. Turning your head to the side you saw the clown duo making its way to the room, and you knew they were the ones who could provide you with the perfect chance to either succeed in your intent or bring you to a violent death.

Arthur: Oh my, what's happening in here? Is our wolfie making a move on our lovely MC before I can ask her out on a date myself?

Dazai: Good evening, Toshiko-san! Is something the matter?

And if this was your only opportunity, then you were going to use all your cards from the beginning. Mustering the best puppy eyes you could manage, you turned to the couple, and with a slightly whiny tone that resembled a half plea for help, you said:

MC: Ah, Arthur, Dazai-san! I just wanted to ask Mozart if I could listen to him playing the piano but he did nothing but be mean to me the whole time! I didn't even speak a word and he's already told me to leave twice~

Mozart: Which you didn't. So now I'm telling you a third time, leck mich. (=bug off)

Catching your subtle hint and feeling in the right mood to mess with the other fellow vampire, they decided to fan the flames of his annoyance by bringing in the discussion that one thing they knew he abhorred talking about.

Arthur: "Leck mich"? Why, Wolfie, you surprise me! You really haven't changed from your youth days, haven't you? My dear MC, did you know that the genius pianist here wrote a song called "Leck mich im Arsch"? A song about licking bums!

Dazai: Buttholes!

Arthur: Arseholes!

Dazai: Bungholes!

This was NOT the type of conversation you would've expected to have in a house full of historically important figures of such caliber, and foremost you were so close to bursting into a raging fit of laughter that only the scary aura of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was preventing you to do so. Despite the amusement you were worried the vein on his temple would explode and show you something you did not sign up for.

Mozart: Haven't I already told you not to bring that up?

Dazai: My, what a chilling smile, Wolfie-kun! Keep that up and you'll scare all the ladies away~

MC: pft——— what ladies?

Mozart: What are you laughing about, dumbass

Arthur: Woah, woah, woah! That's not the proper way to speak to a lady, Mozie! Bad wolf, bad!

Mozart: Did you take me for a dog, you four eyed caveman?

The more the snow white haired man was filled with rage, the more the situation escalated into something even more ridiculous , so much that in the midst of it you didn't even mind the recent insult.

But something was nagging you at the back of your mind. Why did someone as much as a clean freak as him write a song about licking ass? Though you realized Arthur probably gave you the literal translation just to be more direct about his bullying, you guessed it still was something pretty vulgar for someone like him. although you had to admit that the gracious idea you had of him crumbled away the second he opened his mouth

MC: I would've never expected someone like you to write such a song...

Mozart: What are you talking about?

MC: Uhm, you know, you're pretty neat, you don't let anyone touch your piano because of their 'filthy hands'... a piece about butts is a bit...

Mozart: I was still young at the time. My humor used to be different from now, people change in the span of 100 years, you know?

Arthur: Sense of humor? I wasn't aware you had one!

Mozart: Ahahah, so very funny, you stupid tratschtante (=gossip aunt)

Dazai: Maa maa (=now, now ; ara ara maa maa), I don't think the song is that out of character. After all, "licking butts" still has the idea of cleaning something, doesn't it?

Everyone: ...

Arthur: ...That was a bit too much

MC: Yeah, it was.

Mozart: Disgusting. This is why I dont like you people

MC: Wait, so can I listen to-

Mozart: Scram. All of you.

[consumedkings-archive]

WITCHING HOUR, a john seed/deputy fic.

chapter five: dark vibrations

word count: 11.4k

rating: m for now, rating will change in later chapters as things develop, tags will be updated accordingly.

warnings: body horror, hallucinations (?), mentions of self-harm, mentions of suicide. spooky scary activities ensue. elliot has an increasingly difficult time keeping a grasp on reality. we knew this was gonna happen, though!

notes: howdy! i hope y’all enjoy this. sometimes i go weeks without updating and sometimes i wait like, 4 days before manically writing an entire chapter. you know how it be like that sometimes. i was feeling a bit more inspired and felt like i finally hit a groove on where this story was going, which i think definitely helped, and i hope you all enjoy it!

thank you, as always, to everyone who reads, likes/comments, even if you just come into my dms with two nice words or write something nice in your tags; it really does make my whole night to see even one person enjoying anything i’ve made. <3

Cold morning light filtered in through the window, drenched in wedding-silk grays thanks to the wintery cloud-cover. Everything in the room looked to be placed with absolute intent and care; polished, porcelain-white decor in elaborate geometrics, gold accents, a king-sized bed with impeccably pressed sheets. Truthfully, John had thought for certain he’d come back into the house to be informed by Elliot’s statuesque mother that, in fact, she had rescinded her offer to let him stay and actually, he would need to depart immediately, lest the authorities be called.

He was glad that it hadn’t come to that, of course, because it would’ve been such a shame to have to dampen Scarlet’s opinion of her own daughter so quickly into their meeting.

Dropping his small bag of belongings—the manila folder packed full of information, including his own scribbled notes; the burner phone; a few quickly-packed clothes that had been meticulously cycled to avoid the most long-term wear—John paused as the heat in the house kicked on with a delicate whirr.

Everything in Scarlet Honeysett’s home seemed to be precisely the shape and color that she liked, with not a single thing out of place; and yet, as the heat kicked on, he was certain that he could hear the sound of sharp, hushed voices downstairs, a little ripple in the woman’s perfect, arcadian home scene.

It was good. It felt good, to be here. To have gotten the upper hand. So much of the past weeks he’d spent with Elliot had felt like he was slowly, violently spiraling out of control, but this? She was here, and she had to play by his rules for once, and—

And he’d wanted just one more second alone, with her. To watch the way her eyes flickered over his face, to drink in the way her chin tilted up in defiance but not unlike the way she used to do it when she was waiting for him to kiss her, the same lovely high-color in her spreading along her cheekbones and the same little spark in her gaze. Whether it was anger or allure was neither here nor there, anymore; with Elliot, they were interchangeable, a stepping stone one way or another, just the way it had always been with them.

Because John liked her anger. He liked her wrath. He wanted to put his hands on it, his mouth on it, break it into pieces and wring it out of her and put it back and do it all over again, while she said his name, his name, and not anyone else’s. God, she’d been so fucking close—so close, and he couldn have just had her if he really wanted to, grabbed a fistful of her hair and kissed her when the sting of her slap was still fresh on his face. She liked when he did that; kissed her, like he was starved for her. Because he was starved for her, and then she could knot her fingers into his shirt or dig her nails into his skin or whatever it was she wanted to make him desperate.

The sound of excited barking downstairs broke him out of his thoughts. John blinked, taking one last swift look-over of the immaculate room his mother-in-law had decided to put him up in before he nudged his bag beneath the bed and stepped out into the hallway.

To say old money would be almost an understatement. Surely, this house had to have some kind of historical significance; it was several stories, with one of those grand staircases that was wide going up, hit a landing, and then split to either side of the house. As he made his way down, he caught sight of the flicker of Scarlet’s silk robe in the kitchen; music drifted out of it, the same kind of hazy, older music that Elliot had turned on in her mother’s house back in Hope County.

“Stop moving,” Elliot was saying to Boomer, strapping him into a little reflective vest that sat on him like a saddle blanket. For a second, she didn’t notice his presence—or willfully ignored it; he couldn’t say for sure one way or another—and instead focused on the Heeler, rubbing his ears and kissing the bridge of his nose. A tiny little smile ticked the corners of her mouth, and he thought he heard her say, so handsome, best boy, yes you are.

Boomer’s attention snapped to John, now at the foot of the stairs. He let out one sharp, accusatory bark (could dogs sound accusatory, John wondered, or was that just Elliot getting to him?), and what little of his hackles were visible from out under the vest spiked up instantly.

“Good to see you too, beastie,” John greeted him, trying to ignore the way the hound’s low-pitched, reverberating growls made his skin crawl. Flashes of Boomer’s numerous and vicious takedowns of not only Eden’s Gate members but at least one member of the Family that had the misfortune of having chained the dog up darted across his memory, like a flipping through a photo album.

“Don’t talk to him,” Elliot snipped, cupping Boomer’s ears protectively. “I don’t need him getting the idea we’re friendly.”

John rolled his eyes. “More than friendly, I’d say.” His eyes darted over her, drinking in once against the shock of her appearance—red hair, so fucking red that every time he looked at her it was almost like staring at a stranger until he took in the rest, the freckles smattering her nose and the flush in her cheeks, cupid’s-bow lips that were glossed. Had he ever seen Elliot with more than river-soaked mascara on before?

The woman shot him a look, dry and unamused, coming to a stand. He asked, “Going for a walk?”

“Trying to,” she replied tartly, “but someone is evil enough that Boomer doesn’t trust them.”

“We’re pals,” John offered pleasantly. “Me and the beast. You know, were, anyway. He probably just needs to spend a little time with me.”

“Speaking from personal experience, more time makes you less palatable.”

“Let me come on the walk with you,” he tried again, letting her little barbs and jabs roll right off of him, water skating off of his feathers. At this point, he really quite enjoyed her venom; it was familiar. “I’m sure we’ve got plenty to catch up on.”

Elliot eyed him warily, eyes giving him a scathing once-over—eerily reminiscent of her mother’s own disdainful look, and now he thought, ah, yeah, that is where she gets it from, then—as her mouth twisted around whatever it was she wanted to say but wouldn’t let herself. Something too vicious for Scarlet to overhear, perhaps. The threats she’d made in the past had been wildly colorful, but each second that Ell spent considering her words more carefully rather than saying whatever it was she felt with her eyes darting to the kitchen was another second that John became more aware of how little Scarlet actually knew.

“Fine,” Elliot said at last, her eyes narrowing. “I suppose that we do. Mama, we’re leavin’.”

The little quirk of an accent at the end of her sentence made him swallow back a laugh. He’d barely heard that Georgia accent back in Hope County, but maybe spending time with her mother had reinspired it.

“Alright,” Scarlet said, drying her hands on a towel as she stood in the doorway. Her eyes glanced between them, inquisitive for a moment, before she said, “Be quick. Doctor’s appointment in an hour and a half.”

John tilted his head. “Oh? Baby check-in?”

“Can’t imagine what else it would be, Mr. Seed,” Scarlet idled. “Are you familiar with the process of pregnancy?”

“Not beyond the knowledge of a man, I’m afraid.”

“Well, allow me to educate you,” the blonde said, her voice light. “When a woman is carrying a baby, she has to make frequent visits to the doctor, to ensure that all is well. Can’t have anything going wrong with the baby, you know.”

John steadied the intake of breath so that it did not sound so abrupt. He would have done a double-take and thought perhaps she was just overbearing, and not attempting to insult him, were Elliot not smiling. Certainly, only her mother’s attempted insult of him could elicit such an expression out of her.

“Then my arrival was fortunately timed,” he announced. “I look forward to it.”

“And you’ll be sorely disappointed,” Elliot cut in, her humor fading. “You won’t be coming.”

Ah, yes. That’s why I don’t love her attitude. “That’s absurd,” he replied, incredulous. “It’s nearly six weeks, and I haven’t seen a single ultrasound of our baby.”

He was careful, this time, to keep it to our baby. He’d seen the way Elliot’s expression tightened when he’d said my baby, even though that’s what came so naturally to him now, being that they were hardly on the same team—but he’d seen it, that look in her eye, the way she’d squared her shoulders like she’d suddenly been ready to go at him.

Only one thing to do with a rabid dog, Jacob had said, not two days before they found Elliot drenched in another man’s blood in the woods.

John half-expected Scarlet to jump in, to say that it was the father’s right to be there; she was more traditional than Elliot, if her comment about wedlock or her insistence of him staying were anything to go by, but when he turned his gaze to her, the older woman’s expression was devoid of any sympathy. Typical of Honeysett women, he was coming to find.

“If she doesn’t want you there, then you won’t be there. I won’t have my daughter stressed out,” Scarlet told him. “Stress is bad for the baby. Surely that falls within the realm of what a man knows about babies, Mr. Seed?”

He pressed his mouth into a thin line. “Surely.”

“Good. Hour and a half, my beloved, do not be late.”

That a woman had become so capable of tacking the softness of my beloved onto something that verged on a threat was nearly beyond John—would have been, certainly, were he not accustomed to Isolde’s particular brand of venom that was not so unlike Scarlet Honeysett’s.

“I won’t,” Elliot promised. “Can you call the handyman? My TV’s been acting up lately. Turning on static and whatnot.”

“Fine,” Scarlet replied, waving her hand. “I’ll have them come out this afternoon.”

Elliot turned on her heel and opened the front door out into the frigid morning, letting Boomer dart out ahead of her and not waiting for him in the least. He fell into step beside her easily, shrugging into his coat halfway out the door as it clicked shut behind him; she trudged through the snow, passing the garbage can and opening the gate that led out into what had once been pastureland and towards the woods.

It was the same fence that she’d been standing at, early that morning, face lax and serene. If the return to the fence bothered her at all, it didn’t show on her face any more than her irritation at having him there.

“Your mother’s quite...” John’s voice trailed off. “Tall.”

“Mm.”

“Statuesque, even.”

“Mmhm.”

“I get the feeling she doesn’t like me that much.”

“Yes,” Elliot acquiesced, her tone dripping with something close to venomous amusement, “I’ve never seen her take so poorly to someone so quickly before.”

“I suppose I should be flattered.”

“You would be.”

A fourth of the way into the snowy pasture and Boomer was far ahead of them, leaping like a little speckled gazelle in drifts of snow. It was easy to forget that the dog had been ready to rip him to shreds just a little under an hour ago (and once more, more recently). Still, as they trudged through a path that it seemed Elliot had worn through a few times before, John let out a little puff of breath and glanced over at her.

For just one second, she wasn’t spitting any venom at him, but rather seemed to favor the act of pretending like he wasn’t there, which was a bit worse than having her fix her fury on him. Her gaze was focused forward, following Boomer’s little lines in the snow. Attention at all was one thing, but acting as though he didn’t exist?

John said, “So, Burke just got his autopsy reports back and dropped you off right here at home, huh?”

Elliot’s face had already gone pink from the cold, right on her nose and spreading through her cheeks. At his words, a new flush of color rose, a shade more vicious than the last, and her gaze slid to him. If looks could kill, he thought, that dreamy little spike of delight at her eyes on him going straight to his head. Look at you, my little Wrath. You’ve got the good girl mask on, but I know what your true face is.

He’d seen it. Kissed her when the blood was still in her mouth. Let her feed the monster inside of her when she told him to beg, when she dug her nails into his skin, when her breath hitched in her chest from the pressure of his knife blade against her sternum—not in pain, necessarily, but delight at that pain.

The scar had to still be there, of course. The reminder of its existence, swathed in the heavy winter fabrics she wore now, made his fingers itch. If he could just get his hands on her—get his mouth on her, if she would just stop being so obtuse—but he didn’t think he’d be so fond of her if she wasn’t.

“The same way the government probably drove you and your siblings back to the compound and dropped you off,” she replied at last, her voice tight, “isn’t that right?”

John flashed his teeth at her in a grin. “Very astute, hellcat.”

Her expression tightened at the moniker. She sucked her teeth, fixing her eyes forward again, shifting back into the strategy of being withholding of her attention rather than entertain him.

“Oh, come on,” he said, swinging around in front of her and stopping her single-minded journey across the pastureland. “You can’t say you didn’t miss me even a little bit, Ell.”

“I told you,” she replied tartly, “not to call me that.”

“Because it reminds you of what it was like when we’re together,” he agreed.

An exasperated noise came out of her. “Did you forget that I lied to you?”

“At the end, sure,” John said, eyes flickering over her face. “But I don’t think you’re so good a liar you could lie about all of the times you said please, or the way that you said my name, or—and I think you’ll recall I’ve insisted on this bit from the beginning—the undeniable connection that we’ve had since we met.”

“You are a fucking lunatic,” Elliot snapped, her face flushing red. “And don’t fucking talk about me like I’m—like I wasn’t there, I know what I—” She sucked in a sharp breath; lower, and more threatening, “I’m aware of what I said. Of what I did.”

“And you’re going to tell me that it was all fake?” he prompted, unwilling to let go of this little thread. Gripping, sliding through his fingers, but he wouldn’t be so quick to let it escape him now that he didn’t have to think about her mother pitching in an unwanted opinion. “That you lied the whole time and you don’t feel anything for me, that—”

“Of course it wasn’t fake,” she bit out. Her voice had gone venomous, sharp, unbridled in its timbre. “I’m not a fucking psychopath, John, I can’t fake loving someone like you can.”

John opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it. He hadn’t been expecting that. Sure, there was a part of him that was sure Elliot had her doubts about his intentions, otherwise she wouldn’t have fucked off to the middle of nowhere (nor turned them in), but—still?

“You think I—” He paused again, blinking. “You’re not that stupid.”

Her eyes narrowed. Everything about her stiffened, quite suddenly, like maybe she was bracing to take another swing at him. “You are fucking begging for a punch to the face.”

“I mean,” John began quickly, waving his hands a little, “that you surely don’t think that whole time I was just—”

Elliot made a disgusted sound and brushed past him, letting out a high whistle; the sound immediately drew a flurry of activity as a flock of birds when bursting from the treeline, followed closely behind by Boomer’s gray-and-black speckled form. John fell back into step with her, huffing out a breath of air. He was going to table that discussion for later—she was clearly still upset, still a little sore and tender from their departure, and that was fine. There were a lot of things at play concerning his wife’s mood, including but not limited to being pregnant.

So she did, he thought, glancing at her through the corner of his eyes. Love me. Back then, and maybe now, still.

“How have you been sleeping?” is what he said instead, when the moment had spread between them long enough for him to think that he was safe to speak again with incurring her wrath once more. Her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Fine,” she replied, her voice tight.

“Yeah?” he asked, keeping his tone conversational. Elliot blinked once, slow, clearly trying to temper herself. “I just remember what a restless sleeper you were, back home.”

He wanted to say, I saw you at three AM, twice, staring out your window and then walking out into the snow barefoot. I saw you sleepwalking, I know you aren’t sleeping well.

He wanted to say that, and he couldn’t, because if Elliot knew he’d been tailing her for a while she’d go berserk—pull the plug, self-destruct, take whatever loss she had to in order to fucking end him.

“I’m sleeping fine,” the redhead reiterated. For a second, she looked like she wanted to say something; her eyes flickered uneasily, like something was bothering her and she hadn’t been able to say it to anyone but maybe she wanted to, and maybe she could say it to him, but something in the treeline drew her attention away. They were about ten yards away, now, the low breeze skimming pine needles against each other as Boomer barked conversationally at the birds that had so rudely taken flight.

Elliot’s molars clicked, grinding together. Her lashes fluttered, and she sucked in a sharp little breath through her nose.

“Elliot?” John glanced at the trees, but that was all he saw—tall, dark pines, bunching together erratically through years of growth spurts and inevitable fellings. He turned his gaze back to his wife, gaze inquisitive. “What?”

“Don’t you—?” She stopped herself, and sucked in another sharp breath, and now John felt the concern spike sharp and hot in him, because when he reached up she didn’t even seem to register his movement; Elliot, the same woman who had snatched his wrist and threatened to snap it in half for having the audacity to ‘sneak up on her’ when he’d been in the middle of talking to her, completely transfixed on something that he couldn’t see.

“Elliot.” He tried something firmer this time, his hand coming up to sweep the strands of her hair away from her shoulder and neck. The gesture finally startled her out of wherever it was she had gone, yanked her back to reality.

Her shoulder bunched up to her jaw in an effort to deter his hand, swatting at him absently with her hand. “Don’t touch me.”

“Are you going to tell me where you were just now?” John asked, tilting his head inquisitively.

“I was here. Just thought I saw something in the trees,” she replied tightly, turning away from the treeline and clearing her throat. “Just birds.”

Just birds, she said, even though the birds had already taken off and the forest was otherwise still and serene. Behind her, Boomer whined before beginning to follow her back towards the house. Elliot moved with a newfound purpose, one that she had been distinctly lacking before.

His mouth pressed into a thin line. John turned his attention back to the trees, searching for anything—any tangle of branches of play of shadows that might read sinister or threatening.

Only the trees and their shadowy pines. He thought about that night he’d fished Elliot out of the Family’s grip, when she’d been so fucking drugged up to her gills that she’d balked at the sight of the treeline on their way out. I don’t think I can, she’d said then, her voice pitching high with the anxious vibrations of panic. John, I don’t think I can—

“John,” Elliot snapped from ahead of him, “are you coming, or are you just gonna stand there all fucking afternoon?”

He thought about the way Ase had grabbed her hand, blood and viscera coating Elliot like she’d become a tried-and-true Scream Queen. If he searched long enough, if he sat in the memory long enough—did Ase’s mouth open? Had she said something to Elliot? What had she said?

“John,” came the grinding demand, again, less patient than before. “As much as I would love to leave you to freeze to death for insinuating I’m stupid, mama would hate to have to deal with a corpse on her property and I’d never hear the end of it.”

“I missed our banter,” he replied, though the jest did not quite land the same way that it would have were he not so deep in his own thoughts. By the time he’d started walking in her direction, his back to the forest, something uneasy had settled just under his skin; the feeling of being watched, eyes on the back of his neck, anticipation prickling along like his spine.

The house loomed, polished and pristine, on the horizon; as they picked their way across the snowy field, Elliot puffing out breaths occasionally from the labor of it all, John tried to shake that pervasive feeling of dread that had settled over him.

Maybe it was nothing. Maybe Weyfield was just Weyfield, a small town not unlike Hope County, and maybe he was just jumpy from the way the Family had conducted their business, and maybe it was the same for Elliot, who had certainly been put through a different experience than he—but regardless:

The sooner they got out, the better.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Shouldn’t have agreed to let him drive me here.

“Have you been getting enough sleep?”

It was stupid. Stupid, I should have put my foot down, told him to fucking stay at the house and wait for me to come back.

“Elliot?”

She blinked, vision fuzzing and refocusing around the sterile white of the doctor’s office. Her abdomen was sticky, and the ultrasound machine had been turned off along with her shirt tugged back down. Like usual, Dr. Harding did not say anything about the gossamer-webbing of scars, but did pause upon first seeing them, as though she hadn’t seen them times before.

“Sorry?” Elliot said, the apology quirking up at the end in question. She sat up from the bed, the paper crinkling beneath her as she moved.

“I asked,” Harding reiterated, “have you been getting enough sleep?”

Elliot knew the answer. She felt the exhaustion souring in her mouth already, the way something spoiled when it went too long without attention. A sickness. She should say that she hadn’t been sleeping well at all, that she’d begun sleepwalking, that

(seeing things, I’m seeing things when I close my eyes and when I look in the dark treeline, I see faces, heads, people I don’t know but they feel familiar and their faces drop down in between the branches of trees on invisible silk threads and their terrible dark mouths open but they can’t scream)

she’d been feeling out of sorts, as of late. That seemed like a nice way to put it.

The dark images that had fluttered between the trees on her walk earlier that morning with John felt as real as any memory—and that wasn’t to say that her memories always felt real, because they didn’t. But the validity of this morning’s waking nightmare of floating heads drifting between tree-trunks, swinging loosely while John asked her how she’d been sleeping.

“Fine,” Elliot said after a moment, feeling a fresh wave of nausea come over her. “I think, um, maybe the stress about the baby is keeping me up at night.”

Harding regarded her for a moment. The severe sharpness of her dark hair pinned back did nothing to soften her expression—though the woman was hard-pressed to be cheerful, she, at the very least, never sugar-coated anything. “Have you been trying those breathing exercises before bed? And spending time at the stables, as I suggested?”

“I have,” she replied, which wasn’t entirely untrue—she was doing at least one of those things. “It’s just been a lot of—stress, is all. I’m sure it’ll get better once the holidays are over.”

“That can definitely help,” the woman agreed, nodding her head and typing a few loose notes into the computer. “If you find that you aren’t getting enough sleep—enough,” she continued, pointedly, “restful sleep, you let me know and we can figure out some next steps.”

Elliot nodded, coming to a stand; the sudden movement had her head rushing, and she for a second she thought again of the floating heads, swaying with the breeze through the pine boughs.

“I’ve been sleep-walking,” she blurted out impulsively, her doctor’s gaze turning quizzically towards her. “I mean—um, just twice.”

“Do you have a history of it?”

“No,” Elliot began, “but I’ve always been a restless sleeper.”

“It’s not uncommon for sleepwalking to increase with pregnancy, Miss Honeysett,” the doctor replied, her voice even-keel. “It sounds like you’re under quite a bit of pressure, as well. I would suggest trying something mild—an over-the-counter sleep aid would be fine. Unisom is a typical one. Try half of one first, and see how it makes you feel.”

“Okay,” she murmured, sliding her coat back on. Something that was less heavy-duty than the pills her mother had left for her might be good. “Are there any—symptoms? To sleeping pills?”

The doctor adjusted the glasses on her nose, regarding her for a long moment. “Some adverse side-effects, on occasion. Usually with stronger, prescription sleep aids, you could have worsening anxiety and depression, day-time drowsiness. That kind of thing.”

So, no hallucinations, then. No sleepwalking, no lost time, no...

“Are you having other symptoms?” Harding asked.

You’ll think I’m crazy, Elliot thought, you’ll think I’m fucking nuts if I tell you about my dream with the television, and Joey’s body, and walking out nearly to the treeline in my sleep clothes. You’ll think I’m fucking nuts and I’ll have to be committed.

So Elliot said, “No, just curious,” and Dr. Harding hummed as she scribbled the name of the sleep aid onto a sticky note for Elliot to take out with her.

“You have a healthy baby, Miss Honeysett. Let’s keep it that way, shall we?” The brunette gestured for Elliot to head out the door, walking with her back up the hallway that led to the front lobby once again. “Next appointment we can find out the gender, if you’d like.”

“Oh,” Elliot said, surprised. Was it that soon already? Had it already been that long of being—like this? With child? She swallowed, pleasant little flutters in her chest. It was the first time that she’d felt something other than dread concerning the baby. Well, first time, sans John’s annoying little assertion about his claim. Why had that bothered her so much?

“You can decide to keep it a surprise,” Dr. Harding added, sound a little amused. “Think about it, and in the meantime, get some rest. Half a pill to start, remember.”

“Will do, thank you.”

She waded through the small collection of people in the lobby and out onto the street. Something strange was humming inside of her—it was sad, she realized, with a little spike of panic. She felt mournful. So fast, and so soon, she would figure out the baby’s gender, and suddenly the baby would be all the more real and she’d have to start thinking about names, she couldn’t have a baby without a name, and how was she supposed to pick a name? How was she supposed to decide something a real human being was going to be saddled with, forever?

Was the baby a Seed? Or a Honeysett?

Which one was she?

“What’re you doing, just standing out here? You’ll freeze.” John’s voice broke her out of her thoughts, shaking her back to reality again. He must have seen her standing there, glassy-eyed in the middle of the sidewalk, from where he’d been waiting—perhaps, if she was lucky, even suffering over the fact that he hadn’t been allowed into the doctor’s appointment—and come out. He’d kicked up a big enough fuss about not getting to come in that she’d said, fine, you can fucking drive me there, but that’s it, and true to his word John hadn’t pressed the matter any further than that.

Even though he wanted to. She could tell he wanted to, the second they had parked on the main street. She could tell he wanted to say, so, maybe I do come in, hm? What do you say to that? But he hadn’t. And that was...something.

Fuck, she needed to stay focused; she couldn’t keep letting her mind wander like that. Twice in less than an hour?

“I was just—thinking,” Elliot replied, feeling exhausted already. John’s brows furrowed at the center of his forehead, and she sighed. “Stop looking at me like that.”

He arched a dark brow loftily. “Like what?”

“Like you fucking care,” she snapped.

“Contrary to what you might believe concerning my feelings for you,” John quipped, his voice tart, “I do have every reason to be invested in the well-being of our baby.”

She thought to reiterate again that the baby was, in fact, hers, and not any part his, as she was doing all the work and John had done nothing to endear himself as an acceptable father-figure, but she was too tired. Something about the doctor’s office and the way she’d had to dodge the truth of how she’d been feeling left her empty, scooped out her insides like she was a Jack-O’-Lantern and left her floating, aimless.

“Ell,” he began. His voice had pitched lower, now, and his hand reached up; she saw it move in the corner of her vision and something inside her said, yes yes yes, this is what we want, we remember you, we know you. He twisted a loose curl around his finger, letting it smooth out against her shoulder, the corner of his mouth ticking upward when she absently batted his hand away. “Tell me about the appointment. Did everything go well?”

“The baby is fine,” she told him, and then sighed. “I mean—healthy. The baby is healthy. The doctor wants me to pick up an over-the-counter sleep aid, so we’ll need to stop at the store on the way home.”

“I thought you were sleeping fine?” John prompted. He sounded sly. His was a gotcha tone, the way he got when he thought he’d walked a particularly fine circle through the holes in what she chose to tell him or not. Elliot’s expression flattened. She ignored the way that he was looking at her—hungryhungryhungry, always greedy and never, never content with what he had—and fixed her eyes on the passing traffic behind him.

She said, “Just when you’re being somewhat tolerable, you have to go and ruin it.”

“If it’s intolerable for me to point out when you’re withholding information from me about your health,” he demurred, “then I’d prefer intolerable.”

“I cannot believe that I have to say this to you,” Elliot bit out, the sudden spike of irritation flaring hot and violence in her chest, “but I don’t fucking owe you anything. I don’t owe you the truth, or an explanation, and quite frankly, the fact that I allowed you to even chauffeur me to this fucking appointment is a sign that I’m being incredibly generous with you—far more generous than what you deserve.”

John’s teeth flashed in a grin. Before, back in Hope County, the venom had bothered him—he’d hated it, frowned and fought back with a little poison of his own, despised that he had to work so hard to get to the nitty-gritty underneath. But he had once, and perhaps now that he had known her, it only thrilled him.

How frustrating.

“Everything I did,” he said, lowering his voice as he closed some of the small distance between them now, “whether you believe me or not, was for us—”

“Ugh.”

“—and I might have gotten a little heated,” John continued, and this time when he reached up again Elliot’s mouth twisted into a grimace and she tilted her face away, don’t say it don’t say it don’t you fucking say it fuck you fuck you fuck you, “back at the ranch, but I meant it when I said that I l—”

“Honeysett!”

It was Via. Her greeting immediately cut off John’s words, effectively driving a wedge between their metaphorical—and physical—closeness. Snapped her out of the magic of his cologne and his voice and his hand coming up to her shoulder with its grounding weight.

“Missed you at the barn today,” the blonde chirped, cheery as she approached, hands tucked into her fluffy parka pockets. Her eyes flickered over to John, inquisitive. “Friend?”

And then Via turned her eyes back to Elliot, waiting expectantly. It struck her quite suddenly that Sylvia was checking—that despite the kindness and warmth in her voice, she was giving Elliot the opportunity to escape, to wave a red flag and ask for help. She said friend?, and what she meant was, is this man bothering you?, and it made a fuzzy warmth spread right through Elliot’s chest, uncomfortable in the softness is inspired in her.

“Hey, Via, this is...” How best to proceed? How to explain, this man is the father of my baby—which, by the way, I’m pregnant—and also technically we are legally married, oh and also he’s supposed to be in Federal custody right now but he isn’t, somehow, but it’s fine, we’re all good? “...my...John.”

Sylvia eyed her for a moment, sticking out a gloved hand. “Howdy, Elliot’s John. I’m Sylvia.”

John was clearly trying not to have the biggest shit-eating grin on his face as he shook Via’s hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Sylvia,” he replied pleasantly, once again reminding Elliot that the man was a tried-and-true practiced liar and could slip a perfect face on at any time. The knowledge was almost enticing, to know that she’d seen him without the masquerade, more than once.

It made, in hindsight, reflecting back on that moment he’d come unraveled at the ranch—No way, baby, I’m fucking it for you—have a different light. She had done that to him.

Good.

“Y’all busy?” Sylvia asked, blissfully not prying any further for an elaboration on what the nature of their relationship was. “I was just about to meet Wyatt at the Wild Rose. It ain’t trivia night, but they do have a live band playing tonight that’s supposed to be good.”

“Oh,” Elliot said faintly, “I don’t think—”

“That sounds excellent!” John interrupted. “I’ve barely seen anything of Weyfield. What do you say, Elliot?”

I say you can eat shit, she thought, but Sylvia was watching her closely—trying to make sure everything was okay, she supposed, considering Elliot had said nothing of John since they’d become friends. She took in a little breath and looked at the blonde, giving a small smile.

“No harm in a little time out of the house,” she agreed after a moment. “I’m starving, anyway.”

She wasn’t hungry in the least. The sticky note with the doctor’s suggested sleep aid was crumple in her pocket, and a little sweaty from the way she’d been clutching it, but somehow the idea of returning back to the house only seemed to fill her with more dread.

The tv, buzzing static, dull and thrumming in the back of her head, in the roots of her molars. HAVE YOU BEEN HAVING STRANGE DREAMS? And the heads, twisting and turning in the breeze, their silk-spun puppet threads invisible, their mouths swinging open as they try to scream.

HAVE YOU BEEN HAVING STRANGE DREAMS?

“Well, can’t have you starvin’,” Sylvia said amusedly, looping her arm through Elliot’s own and beginning to walk. “You’re not keeping my girl well-fed, Mister John?”

“Trying my hardest,” John replied, his gaze sly, “but she can be a bit ornery.”

“Hm, that does sound like her. Where are you visitin’ from, anyway?”

As they chattered, over her, John on one side and Sylvia on the other, Elliot got the distinct impression that her friend was quietly, politely fishing for information without putting Elliot under the stress of it.

HAVE YOU

Snow underfoot. The forest breathing, expanding, swelling because it holds some great, dark beast just waiting for her to get close enough.

BEEN HAVING

(Itwaitsforyouitwaitsforusallanditwillhaveyou)

STRANGE

“Careful,” John cautioned, reaching for the door with all of the gentlemanly nature of a man not possessed by the devil to hunt her down across states, “it’s slick.”

He opened the door into the Wild Rose, the sweep of warm air rushing over her a pleasant shock to her system that managed to draw her back to reality. Sylvia nudged her inside, effectively planting herself between Elliot and John as they moved single-file into the crowded bar.

She was tired, and having nightmares, and once she finally got some sleep she would feel a lot better about everything. All she needed was some sleep. And in the meantime, try to enjoy her time with her friends as best she could.

Get some sleep. Feel better in the morning. Burke’s old mantra popped up in her head, running through the worn grooves that were a sad, bittersweet sort of comfort to her now; the second you think you can’t anymore, you keep going anyway. Dig, dig, dig, until her fingers were dirt-packed and bloody, as deep as she fucking needed to go to keep moving, because it wasn’t just about her anymore.

Get some sleep.

Feel better in the morning.

Sylvia had drifted out from their little formation to make her way to the booth they had recently staked out as their own, where Wyatt already sat waiting and waving for them. John planted his hands on her shoulders, squeezing and lowering his mouth to her ear. “What do you want to drink?”

“You’re acting awfully domestic for someone who should be in Federal custody,” Elliot replied lowly, looking at him over her shoulder just in time to see him flash a smile that was all teeth.

“C’mon, hellcat,” and he all but purred the words at her, making her skin prickle in a type of anticipation that wasn’t purely dread. Traitorous, treacherous body. “You can at least play at liking me while your friends are around.”

“Iced tea.” She shrugged, disembarking his hands from her shoulders. “No lemon. A lot of ice. Think you can swing it without, I don’t know, lying halfway to Hell on your way there, Slick?”

“Anything,” he replied, pitching his voice even lower amidst the din of the bar, “for my lovely wife.”

Elliot’s head snapped around, ready to grab a fistful of his shirt and remind him to watch his fucking mouth, but he’d already started his journey to meander through the crowd and reach the bar on his little fetch quest.

Fucker, she thought, even when her stomach twisted with something other than vicious disdain. John had only been here for a day and was already too comfortable taking liberties; she’d have to make sure that got nipped in the bud before he got any funny ideas about his own personal redemption arc.

It would have been nice, to just be able to turn off any and all feelings whenever she wanted. But she couldn’t, and that meant she’d have to do the next best thing:

Get John the fuck away from her.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Eden’s Gate did not make a good first impression. Eden’s Gate did not even make a good second or third impression; in fact, Isolde had come to the conclusion that Joseph’s little compound was incapable of making any impression that didn’t fill the observer with a sense of despair. Every time she stepped out of the little building Jacob had set her up in, she was overwhelmed with disgust—eyes followed her, but none of them held anything beyond a dull spark of interest, nearly smothered by what seemed to have been a full-body beat down by the other cult.

The other cult, she constantly had to remind herself, because that’s what Eden’s Gate was. A cult.

A few miserable days at the hands of Montana’s coldest winter by record had her in a foul mood. The snowfall seemed inevitable, like it wouldn't ever stop, and the amount of times there had been paths shoveled between buildings—all leading to the chapel—were equally endless. Isolde couldn’t imagine coming to fucking Montana for fun, let alone for work, and yet she was somehow here for the latter and not the former. Distinctly, painfully lacking in fun.

It didn’t help that Joseph was insufferable. It didn’t help that every time he fixed his eyes on her, she felt an uncomfortable heat dripping down her spine like some kind of molten IV, like they hadn’t left on the worst of terms. Like she hadn’t told him to get the fuck out of her loft, like she hadn’t thrown an engagement ring on the floor like it was poison.

That was a time of her life that she had the distinct desire to not revisit, not even once, and yet in his presence—she found it nearly impossible to ignore. Joseph seemed to take a special, muted pleasure in making her hackles raise, and at least that hadn’t changed about him.

“Sol!”

Jacob called to her from halfway down the compound’s yard, a truck idling beside him. She stopped her trek back to her little hovel and looked at him, arms crossing over her chest.

“You wanna get out for a little?” He inclined his head toward the truck. “I’ve got some errands to run.”

“What kind of errands do the Collapse dictate?” she asked.

“The important variety.”

“Hm.”

She didn’t elaborate on that any further, and Jacob waited only one heartbeat before he reached for the driver’s side door and opened it, slowly.

“Going once—”

“I am not a child, Jacob.”

“—going twice—”

Fuck, did she want to get out.

“Fine,” Isolde snapped, “but bring that truck here. I’m not hiking through a snowdrift to get to you.”

Jacob, sounding quite pleased with himself, replied, “I thought you weren’t a child?”

He seemed moved enough by the dramatic eyeroll to oblige her, and if he found it annoying, it didn’t show; enough so, at least, that Isolde was able to clamber into the passenger side of the truck once he pulled it around, tapping the snow off of her shoes before pulling herself in.

“Thank you,” she huffed, shutting the door and rubbing her fingers to circulate the blood again. “This weather’s a bit abnormal, don’t you think?”

“Not anything out of the ordinary for this time of year, no,” Jacob replied. He nudged the windshield wipers on, plowing a thin layer of snow that had already begun to accumulate off of the window before starting to pull out of the compound. “I think you’re just not suited to the snow.”

“Could have told you that myself,” Isolde snipped. “I’m a hot-blooded creature.”

Jacob made a noise, something like an mm, a place between agreement without incriminating himself by agreeing too fervently or elaborately. She glanced over at him through the corners of her eyes as they turned onto the highway. In the comfortable silence that elapsed between them, Isolde settled back against the seat of the truck and tried to appreciate being out from the stifling dread of the compound.

It did seem to her that Joseph was markedly different than he had been, before. In the few instances in the last couple of days where he hadn’t been picking a fight with her, it almost felt normal—but of course, he was doing it in his own way, this pot-stirring, this instigating. With politeness. With kindness. By remaining completely unrattled by anything she said to him, every, any critique, so self-assured in his righteousness that not even reason could make him look twice at the state of his congregation.

Then, he had always been that way. Righteous. Assured. She had found it appealing, once—she liked a man with confidence—but now she found it—

Equal parts frustrating and attractive. Objectively, of course. Not anything that she felt herself.

“Trying to account for the bodies of the Family against the ones we know we saw before,” Jacob explained, when she had been quiet long enough to let him sort out his thoughts. “Seems like they started killing themselves, in pairs, once the two leaders were done with. I sent out a couple of scouts and they radio’d back some locations, but they’ve gone quiet for a while.”

“Dedication,” Isolde murmured, digging the nail of her thumb into her lower lip. “How dreadful.”

“The dedication, or the act?”

“Both. Imagine being so bound to something or someone.”

Jacob’s mouth twisted in a wry smile, and he brought the truck to a crawl. Two bodies, swallowed by snow nearly up to their waists, sat propped against the cliff face. He fished a pad of paper and a near-worn out pencil out of the center console of the truck and held them out to her.

“Mark it down, Sol.” When she blinked at him, he continued, “What, you thought you were gonna get out and not help me?”

“Well, I was hoping.”

She sighed, taking the pad and pencil—a glorified secretary is what I am, she thought bitterly—and marked two tally marks down. From where the car was stopped, she could see that the arms of the corpses came together, and though it was buried in snow, she had to think that beneath the white frost their hands were intertwined.

They went like that for a while; Jacob would drive to a spot, have her mark down the amount of bodies, and then go on. By the time they had reached Fall’s End, Isolde had counted nearly twenty dead bodies. As they rolled into the far end of town, Isolde realized very quickly that most of the buildings were blackened, and when she rolled down her window, the stale scent of charcoal still sat in the air.

“What happened here?” she asked, grimacing and scrunching up her nose.

“Dunno,” Jacob replied tightly. “Someone with an agenda.”

Isolde’s gaze snapped to him, to try and wring any information out of his expression, but true to his nature Jacob remained completely unreadable. It wasn’t until they had gotten to what appeared to have once been a bar and tallied up the bodies there that Jacob threw the truck into park.

“What in the fuck?” he muttered, eyes fixed forward. When Sol followed his gaze, she realized that it was fixed on someone—someone running towards them, frantically, nearly falling over themselves in the snow.

“Is that one of yours?” she asked. “Jacob?”

“Shh.”

He had busied himself fishing around in the back seat, and as he did Isolde squinted, trying to get a better look at what was going on. The man running definitely had to be Eden’s Gate—he had the big red emblem on his shirt, but he wasn’t wearing any coat, and—

And there were others.

“Jacob,” Isolde said, “there are more.”

“What?”

“Bodies,” she managed out, “there are more bodies.”

The snow wasn’t so deep on the roads that she couldn’t see the width of a body, and she did—see it, that is, tousled dark locks reflecting wet and sticky in the overcast, late-afternoon light. The man running was waving his arms and yelling for help, and then he fell over one of the bodies, fell to his hands and knees over the body of someone else, and made a sound kind of like anguish.

Jacob finally managed to pull out what he’d been looking for—a pair of binoculars—and immediately lifted them to his face.

“Shit,” he said. “Fuck, they’re ours.”

“All of them?” Isolde demanded. “They’re all—”

“Yes,” he bit out, opening the driver’s door and grabbing the rifle from the back seat. “They’re all ours. Isolde, stay in—”

Jacob’s words were cut off by the violent crack of a gunshot. For a split second, Isolde saw nothing; in the space between heartbeats, sluggish from panic, she saw the arterial spray coming from the back of the running man’s body before he hit the ground, screaming.

He wasn’t dead. He wasn’t dead, he was still crawling, dragging himself through the snow, leaving a smear of red behind him, and that’s when Isolde saw them.

Jacob had stopped moving as well. The person at the far end of the main road leading through Fall’s End had yet to shoulder their weapon. From here, Isolde could see that she was tall—short-cropped, blonde hair, swathed in dark clothes, but beyond that the features were near impossible to make out.

“Close the door,” Isolde hissed, not moving, her instincts screaming to duck but the fear that sudden movement would draw attention prevailing. “Jacob, close the fucking door.”

The eerily satisfying click-click of what could only be the bolt-action rifle in the hunter’s hands clattered around in her head. The rifle was returned to their shoulders, brought up level, and then fired again.

Out of pure instinct, Isolde flinched—but once again, the bullet was aimed not at them, but at the man already crawling in the snow. The sound of the gunshot, and the subsequent bullet-on-bone impact, was enough to make her stomach churn; now, at least, the man lay slumped in the snow, one of the many bodies that seemed to have been the unfortunate pull-and-fire clay birds for the stranger.

“Who,” Isolde whispered furiously, as Jacob carefully put the truck into drive without letting it move forward at all first, “Jacob, who the fuck is that?”

The redhead’s expression was unforgivingly tight, pulling taut with it the scars and mottling of his skin visible outside of his beard. He wasn’t looking at her, but rather kept his eyes fixed forward, as he closed the driver’s side door.

“Fifteen men,” he ground out between his teeth, “that’s fifteen fucking men I sent out here to figure out the body count.”

The stranger finally lowered their rifle, apparently satisfied with their work. This far away, it was hard to tell, but Isolde got the distinct impression that they were being watched, looked at now, where before the attention had been elsewhere.

And then it was confirmed, because the stranger lifted one gloved hand and pressed her index and middle fingers right against the hollows of her jaw. A snakebite. A cut right to the carotid. A message.

Jacob cranked the wheel, the tires shrieking in protest against the snow as he pulled between buildings in a sudden rush of acceleration. The stranger was quickly cut out, stifled by the side of the used-to-be-bar, leaving them out of direct range of a sniper rifle. Not that her companion seemed that pleased about it, anyway.

“Fuck,” he bit out, seething as he tried to navigate the narrow space in the clumsy Eden’s Gate truck. “Fuck, did you count how many bodies were on the ground?”

“Hm, no!” Isolde snapped viciously. “I was a bit too busy trying to make sure they were going to shoot us!”

Jacob gritted out another string of swears between his teeth, turning the truck until he could take what looked to be a back alley in the opposite direction of their little hunter. He checked the rearview mirror frequently; his expression was set in a deep frown, and he only looked at her once before continuing his regular scanning of the road behind them.

“Well, aren’t you going to turn around?” she demanded.

“For what?” Jacob replied flatly. “I’ve got a hunting rifle, not my HTI.”

“I don’t know what that means, and I don’t care,” Isolde bit out.

“It means, the chances of me getting shot before I get a shot on them are significantly lower,” he told her, his knuckles whitening along the steering wheel, “and as confident as I am that I could kill them before they killed me, I’m not confident they wouldn’t take a shot at you first.”

Isolde’s stomach rolled. It wasn’t the violence that bothered her—it wasn’t the death, or the guns, or even the blood—but the message itself. The Stranger had been hunting the Eden’s Gate men and women for sport. For fun. To pass the time, while they waited. But what for? What could they be waiting for?

She stayed quiet, listening to Jacob radio back to the compound quick, short orders that flew right over her head. She couldn’t stop thinking about it—the gesture. The stranger. Who were they? The remainder of the other cult, perhaps? What were they waiting for?

You’re next, that two-fingered, snake-bite-right-to-the-carotid gesture had said.

You’re next, and I’m coming for you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Sylvia did not seem that impressed with John Seed, and Elliot could not blame her.

John was exceptionally charming. So charming, in fact, that he and Wyatt seemed to get along smashingly. It was almost frustrating, how quick the blonde took to John—but then, Wyatt did strike as the type of man who got along with everybody until they gave him a reason to think otherwise. After all, he’d been kind to her, and she was...

Needless to say, Sylvia was a harder sell, which was nice. Reassuring. It made Elliot feel more grounded, to see Sylvia politely smile at John’s chatter—she’d nearly forgotten how much he liked to talk—but then decidedly turn to Elliot to ask her about something or dive into a different conversation. It was pointed, and if the way John watched them interact was any indication, the message of it was not lost on him.

By the time the evening had drawn to a close, for her and John at least, the brunette had departed to go warm-up the Jeep and left her standing by the doorway, keeping warm, with Sylvia.

“You sure you’re doin’ okay?” the blonde asked after a moment, propped up against the wall in the tiny little doorway that led out to the main street. “You look tired. Stressed out. I was worried when we didn’t hear from you this morning, about comin’ to the barn.”

Elliot felt a little pang of guilt digging in, just there below her sternum. “I’m okay,” she promised. “I’m sorry I didn’t call, I—had a doctor’s appointment this morning that I completely forgot about until my mama reminded me, and John showed up this morning too, so it’s just been...”

“A crazy day,” Via agreed, her nose crinkling cutely in amusement. “He’s a funny fella, that John of yours.”

Oh, if only you knew. “I think so, too.”

“What is he?” she asked, conversationally. “Maybe a—car salesman?”

Her friend’s playful jab was enough to elicit a laugh, billowing out of her and catching even herself by surprise. But then, she shouldn’t have been shocked to find that Sylvia had gotten a quick read on John. Given the way she’d quickly diverted from the attention on Elliot’s scar and carried on, she thought maybe Via was more perceptive than she liked to let on.

“Lawyer,” Ell replied, and Via winced comically.

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I mean—Elli,” Via intoned playfully, “he might as well be sellin’ you snake oil when he’s a lawyer.”

Elliot sighed ruefully, glancing out the window to see John clambering out of the front of the jeep. Snake oil seemed a light judgment for him, all things considered.

“Hey, Via,” she began, swallowing a little, “if I tell you something, you’ve gotta promise you won’t say anything?”

Via regarded her curiously, head tilted. “Okay, sure, Freckles. What’s up?”

She shifted on her feet. “John and I are actually, um—” Elliot paused, swallowing thickly. She didn’t want to say it. She didn’t want to, because saying it out loud—her, and not John—made it real. Gave it legs. Forced her to face what had happened and what she couldn’t change yet.

“You don’t have to,” Via told her gently. “I could tell there was somethin’—you know, out of sorts. You don’t get a slick-talkin’ lawyer grinnin’ like the cat what ate the canary if he hasn’t done somethin’ to piss a woman off.”

Elliot shook her head. “We’re actually, uh,” she tried again, pulling at a loose thread on her shirt, “m—married.”

Saying the word out loud didn’t feel as wretched as she thought it would, which was almost three times as concerning. She felt, instead, more dread waiting for Sylvia’s reaction—waiting to see what her one friend had to say or think about that.

The woman’s face screwed up comedically. “Oh, Freckles,” she said, her tone teasing. “Say it ain’t so.”

“I’m not kidding!” Elliot felt a nervous little laugh bubble out of her. “I mean—what, Via? You clearly have an opinion on him.”

“I don’t know the man from Jack walkin’ down the street,” Sylvia demurred. “I just think...well, I just think you’re a real peach, you know? And you didn’t seem too pleased to have this John walkin’ around, and I take that kind of thing seriously.”

Sighing, Elliot scuffed her shoe against the ground, watching John pick his way through the crowd back down the street.

“We left on—bad terms, sort of,” she explained. “He showed up to make amends.”

“Do you want to make amends?”

The question caught her off-guard. It was an obvious one—obvious in that, it should have been one of the first things anyone asked her regarding John, even John himself, and yet: no one had. Not a single person had asked her if she wanted to suffer through making amends with the man who had lied to her, violated her trust, and still somehow managed to be the one person she didn’t have to fear seeing the worst, ugliest parts of her.

“I don’t know,” Elliot said after a moment, clearing her throat. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“Then I will reserve judgment,” Sylvia replied firmly, “so you can make a decision on your own.”

The door to the street opened, bringing with it not only a waft of chilly wind, but John himself and the scent of his viciously-expensive cologne. It took every ounce of Elliot’s self-control not to burst into laughter at the absurdity of it—John Seed, charisma-extraordinaire, somehow managing to make poor first impressions both on her mother and her friend.

“Car’s all warmed up,” John announced, rubbing his hands together. He glanced between the two women, the corner of his mouth ticking upward. “What’s so funny, hm?”

“Nothing,” Elliot replied. “Just talking about you.”

This piqued his interest. He said, “Good things, I hope,” and she could see it on his face—the painful reminder of the way John had craved Joseph’s approval, the way he’d lit up like a nuclear mushroom cloud the second Joseph deigned to say anything remotely kind to him.

“Jury’s still out,” Sylvia said lightly, and then flashed a pretty smile and clapped him on the shoulder. “But don’t worry bud! We’ll get you there eventually.”

John tried very hard to feign polite laughter, but the uneasiness bled through readily—and it was a little satisfying, to see John squirm, to see him out of his element, no longer surrounded by a constant chorus of Yes hitting his dopamine centers nonstop. No wonder the man had a conniption anytime someone dared to dislike him.

“Better get this lady home, she looks like she’s about to fall asleep standing,” Sylvia announced, reaching and giving Elliot a gentle hug. “Night, Freckles.”

“Goodnight.”

John and Sylvia bid each other a pleasant goodbye as Elliot stepped out onto the street, careful to avoid icier parts of the concrete as she made her way to the car. Her brain felt fuzzy—a lot of socializing, a lot of time spent trying not to let John get to her. It had been long enough since she’d had to hold her walls up for so long that she felt exhausted from doing it, even for this long.

Maybe that was his strategy. Wear her down, then swoop in, just like last time.

“Did you have fun?” John asked, and she realized that she was at the car, having climbed into the passenger seat already. He closed the driver’s side door, settling in before carefully beginning to back out of the parking spot.

“I mean, having you loom over my shoulder the entire night was a little odd.”

He made an affronted sound. “I was not looming.”

“You were,” Elliot told him, “a little.” She paused, feeling the exhaustion pulling at the edges of her vision, begging for her to close her eyes—but she couldn’t. Not in the car, not with John driving. If she did, he might just keep driving and not turn back around. “It’s funny—”

“My quote-unquote looming?”

“How much different you are,” she finished, “when you’re not around Joseph.”

John was clearly trying very hard not to look like he was stiffening at her words. Gotcha, she thought, with a little pinprick of pride. Yeah, I didn’t forget. I didn’t forget how much you hated it when I brought him up.

“I don’t know what you mean,” John replied, keeping his voice light. “I’m exactly the way I’ve always been.”

“You haven’t tried to drown me a single time.”

“That time was a miscommunication,” he insisted. “I wasn’t trying to drown you. Just—coerce you. And besides, that’s behind us now. I know you, Elliot Honeysett, intimately, which means such forms of brute persuasion aren’t required.” He paused. “It’s much better when you indulge me willingly, anyway.”

Elliot’s nose crinkled. “You sound fucking nuts when you say that. ‘That one time I thought about drowning you was just a miscommunication’. No wonder Sylvia doesn’t like you.”

“So she told you? That she doesn’t like me?”

He paused for a moment, his gaze flickering over to her, and when he saw the very subtle upturn of her mouth he exhaled out of his nose.

“You’re fucking with me.”

“Not necessarily. But if I was—it would be the least you deserve.”

He was different, out from the insane pressure of the cult, out from under Joseph’s thumb. It was like, given room to breathe, he was suddenly relearning what it was like to make his own decision—to exist outside of Joseph. Back in Hope County, John had been fervent in his belief that he owed Joseph everything. Maybe the distance had done him some good.

Don’t, something inside of her insisted viciously, as she turned her attention out to the side of the road where the headlights illuminated snowdrift after snowdrift. Don’t get soft on him. That’s how he got you last time, you know. Don’t let it happen again.

But if he wanted to press the issue about Sylvia—or about her comment concerning Joseph—John seemed to exercise a remarkable amount of self-control and instead focused on driving. In the quiet, without him chattering on about doing things for them or how much he missed our banter, it was almost...Comfortable.

“Finding out the gender,” Elliot said after a moment, the exhaustion now settling like a deep chill in her bones. “Of the baby, I mean. At the next appointment.”

The brunette shifted in his seat. In an attempt at nonchalance, he said, “Oh, yeah?”

What am I doing? she thought. He plays nice for one night. He’s good at that. Short-term goodness.

“I’m nervous,” she added after a moment. “About finding out.”

“Not excited?” John tilted his head.

“No,” she admitted. “Nervous.”

Ahead of them, she saw the dark blur of a figure. A frown tugged at the corners of her mouth. John was saying something—something about how he’d read a number of books and it was normal to feel nervous, or some other kind of psycho babble—but she shifted forward in her seat, eyes straining to see.

“Slow down,” she said, “I think there’s a dog...?”

“What?” John asked. “Where? I don’t see anything.”

“Just up ahead. Have you not been paying attention to the road?”

He made an indignant sound—“I am the best driver between the two of us, you know,”—but before Elliot could think up a response, the dark, furred creature slowed down ahead of them, stopped in the middle of the road, and turned its head.

The headlights caught it immediately. It was a dog, four-legged and large and shaggy black fur, but when it turned its head, it was a man’s face, the mouth slung open and the gently-rounded teeth of a human’s mouth blaring white in the headlights. Something dark and slick oozed between the teeth, in that split second, she watched the dog-human-creature push off from the ground and stand on its two hind legs.

She screamed, and John swerved, and immediately threw the car into park and slammed his hand on the hazard lights button.

It was dread, pure dread and fear, sending a pulse of adrenaline straight to her brain. Bent over at the waist, Elliot closed her eyes tight, trying to will the image out of her head, out from behind her irises. John had quickly unbuckled and reached over, his hands doing the same to hers.

“Elliot,” he said urgently, fingers pushing the hair back from her face. “Ell, take a breath, come on—sit up, you have to take a breath—”

“Is—is it gone?” she asked, but the words came out closer to a wail, the fear spiking viciously in the timbre of her voice. Please, God, what the fuck, please let it be gone. God, oh fuck, what the fuck what the fuck— “The—the—”

“There’s nothing—?” John stopped. Elliot frantically scrabbled at the high neck of her parka, fingers shaking and clumsy. “Ell—”

“Can’t breathe,” she managed out. “Too hot, can’t—”

The brunette reached over the console and stilled her hands. She was still bent at the waist, but he made do, pulling the zipper of the parka down until she could pull her arms from it; once it had been deposited in the back seat, his hand went to the back of her neck.

She sat up slowly, her eyes immediately making a frantic search of the road. There was nothing. Only quiet snowfall.

“Where—” She paused, swallowing thickly. “Where did it go?”

“Ell,” John murmured, “there wasn’t anything in the road.”

“What do you mean?” she moaned. “I saw it, the—I saw the—”

“You saw...?” he prompted. His thumb swept across the back of her neck, coaxing.

“The dog,” she insisted. “It was a dog, but it had—it’s face was—it was a man’s face, and it f-fucking—it fucking stood up, John!”

He was watching her carefully, his gaze searching her face for a long moment. He cleared his throat. “I didn’t see anything,” he told her. “Just that you—you just screamed, so I pulled over.”

“I’m not crazy,” Elliot bit out, her voice wobbling.

“I know,” John replied plainly. “Maybe it was just—you know. The snow. In front of the headlights.” And then: “Have you really been getting enough sleep, Ell?”

She felt her lip tremble, the desire to cry almost overwhelming. She couldn’t stand it—couldn’t stand John being tender to her, worrying about her, questioning the validity of her saying that she had been sleeping fine because he could see that she couldn’t. He was wretched and wicked and it needed to stay that way.

“Please take me home,” she said finally, re-buckling and rolling the window down to let the cold air on her face. “Please just take me home.”

John waited for a few heartbeats before he turned the hazard lights off and put the Jeep in drive.

“I don’t think you’re crazy,” he told her after a moment, glancing at her a few times. “I mean it, Ell.”

“Fuck you,” she replied, exhausted and feeling furiously wound up. “Just take me home.”

Get some sleep.

Feel better in the morning.

[sole-cuore-amore-e-droga]

Cyprus brings shampoo to Rotterdam 2021

I FELL IN LOVE, I FELL IN LOVE, I GAVE MY HEART TO PRODUCT PLACEMENT.

Though I do see where they come from. Everyone from Panik Records, from her to Eleni Foureira featuring Perfectil on the “Fuego” MV, gonna need that sweet sweet money all of the time. But has Greece’s economy not really recovered for them to constantly need to advertise products on music videos or am I just losing my mind overthinking things?

Eitherway, this review may or may not appear before or during their rehearsal day, so see how do I make a fool of myself by trying to estimate Cyprus’s chances!

ARTIST & ENTRY INFO

This year we have a 26 year old Elena Tsagrinou from Greece here (the way they were last represented by a somewhat Cypriot on 2017?). She did music early on in her age, also participated in the Greek version of Got Talent. Though, before breaking out as a solo pop sensation in ways you cannot imagine, she used to be in a pop band OtherView. Strangely enough, I’ve heard of them because of this song below but I could’ve NEVER estimated it was her and never could have I predicted she would land herself a Eurovision entrance all alone:

The band has had quite a few successful enough singles with her, she did some music shows participation and hosting, her band switched labels midway through (guess into which one they eventually landed, hint: some of the screenshots in this review have this peculiar logo), and in 2018, she had to “withdraw” from the group to go ahead and pursue the aforementioned solo career, somewhat. She continued doing a lot of shows (particularly seen on the MAD music channel related events), and doesn’t have as many singles as she had with OtherView right now, but she’s possibly well on her way to blossom as an artiste. Some of those reading (lol who am I kidding who even reads these) may be familiar with this little song of hers:

You’ve heard way too many things about “El Diablo”, her 2021 entry, so idk if I feel like explaining the technical side of things all by myself or you already know everything. But in these reviews I repeat everyone else regardless, so let me just say that “El Diablo” is an obvious pop song, with a lot of Swedish related touches to it, because at least one person on this song also worked on Alvaro Estrella’s Melodifestivalen 2021 entry that glorifies at least a handful of the same cliches that “El Diablo” does lyrically. Dear Eurovision lyricists, you can use more foreign languages than Spanish for your obligatory foreign language incorporations, thanks~

Although I’m not sure about whether it is more Laurell Barker’s fault as much as it is Joker Thörnfeldt’s, but it’s easier to blame them equally, because the former probably came up with “ta-taco, tamale” and the latter couldn’t get enough of the word “mamacita” they used for the aforementioned Melodifestivalen entry. Anyway, the lyrics, from what I get, is that she’s in love with an eeeevil guy because he’s sweet talking her, they do some sexy stuff together (presumably), pour sauce on their bodies for no explicit reason other than “obligatory-foreign-reference-itis”, she’s breaking the rules (and idk if it was “mama-mamacita” telling her to do it), got the icy edges that the spicy is melting for her, throws eyelashes on the floor when she’s got no wigs to throw (but that doesn’t matter because even without a wig, she can flip her hair and make him look twice), and there’s as much as you need to know about the song’s lyrics as I feel like I should show to you, because eh. Eurovision has suffered from worse cookie-cutter lyricism through the years, “El Diablo” is painful but not the worst.

REVIEW

But I do like the song somewhat!

“El Diablo” was initially compared to Lady Gaga’s “Bad Romance” upon release, and I totally kind of see why, because in all the right spots you can absolutely hum over the chorus to that over the one of “El Diablo”’s, it just exchanges gratuitous French translation of one of the already sung lines on the bridge for obligatory inserted Spanish terms just for the sake of being trendy with the crowds of the nowadays, because as we learned nothing these days, having a lot of Spanish in your song is apparently trendy. And Elena does nothing absolutely batshit insane on the music video (other than advertising) - no lapdance for the devil Lil Nas X style, no being forced into a bath, no person to sell her body to (not even the titular diablo), no dancers that rise out of their Christian sleep pods. Just Elena singing behind lots and lots of trash bin bag wrap.

Honestly the bigger issue for me than the song being “sAtAnIc because it is called “the DEVIL!!!”, aside from the lyrics, is that the MV does not come with any forewarning whatsoever for the people that are seizure prone when they see strobe lights? And that happens for some extended periods of this clip? I know you are indulged in your advertising and good for you but don’t just care for the companies that pay you if you use their products, do care about people’s wellbeings too, sometime.

But enough about the MV.

The song is decently sounding. It has interesting uses of what sounds like hi-hats during the verses (e.g.: a moment when this happens for the first time on the song is after Elena sings “tonight we’re gonna burn in a par-tY” the second time, and then there’s something that sounds soaring - that’s what I think that the hi-hats did.). It also has some sort of a synth piano on the second verse to boost the song’s sound rather than just relying on 808s and beats. I quite like how the chorus is so instant somehow, idk why but it is for me. Might have a gripe with that childish choir singing “I LOVE EL DIAB-LO” in the tune of standard kindergarten children teasing tune (aka ”NA NA NA BOO BOO”), as well as the constant breathing sounds, but they don’t distract me from generally “fucking” with this song, lol. It’s just that likeable imo.

I just can’t cope with the fact that Cyprus can’t seem to dare to go at least a little bit original with their song, yanno? Ever since 2019 they were called out as being a ripoff of something... hell, everyone since 2016 except Eleni was a ripoff of something. Alter Ego? “Somebody Told Me” by The Killers. Gravity? “Human” by Rag’n’Bone Man. Replay? “Fuego” itself. Running? “Lose Control”, Meduza x Becky Hill. Now we have a Lady Gaga song wannabe that even caught the attention of another singer that the music video looked like it was ripping off, and the Eurofandom caught up in hysterics:

Heads up, folks: not EVERY short haired blonde with messy hair, silvery tank top and shortpants that writhes on the floor is a Zara Larsson clone. And I don’t know who stirred controversy first - her or the fans - but this was ridiculous to see, even for me.

Although for a second I saw where they were coming from.

Now see why I want Cyprus to go original for at least once? Because I guess that the way “Fuego” was conjured up, it brought Cyprus so much success with how the package was, how Eleni sold it, and how the song sounded. You know the first thing of everything potentially going wrong for you later on is if you find the formula you’ve been looking for, but you proceed to be using the exact same formula that got you this far in the first place, without realizing what was it in the formula that you needed to bank on to further to make it click, but instead proceed to copy everything like it was an easy, fill-in-the-blank form. You can and should do better than that.

Though that doesn’t stop me from ranking it 11th this year.

Thing is, I really expected it to be the one female pop song of the year I would have the constant impulsive need to replay, replay, yeah. Ever since the chaotic entry MV drop that occured on some random-ass Cypriot TV show where three guys talked a lot (and before that, we got a cooking show), and kept growing increasingly agitated that no one is liking their show, until at some point one of them erupted in “IN TWU MEENETS... EL DIABLO... ON UR TEEVEE”; I was really devastated I couldn’t be able to break the replay button because of Panik Records deciding to rather benefit for themselves to have the MV on their app, then on Youtube, THEN on Spotify in that order. So I listened to a few video rips that I received / had for myself, and it was a fun time... until I realized the desire to play it declined much faster than I thought it would when it actually dropped on Spotify, oops. So I can’t really let myself rank it higher, when there are at least some catchier female bangers with better overall sound, better lyrics, and better multiple-replay factor. But I can’t really settle for a much lower rank for her than 11th, anyway. Girlbanger 2021 power y’all!

That and vocally she’s actually not that bad, even if she has shown up singing her song drunk in a handful of Instastories for some event of some party house, and at the time people overreacted, but I think that at least a large audience of those same people has collectively dropped their “Cyprus obvious NQ” talks come the pre-parties.

Panik Records, when will you put the yeehaw El Diablo on streaming? Now THAT’S a version that has replay value, and I might never get bored of it instead :(

Approval factor: Yeah, there exists some for me in it Follow-up factor: CyBC did one of the nastiest in terms of following up their 2020 arc of “Bring Your Artist Back for Revenge Year” that was 2021, straight up ditching Sandro probably right after Eurovision was done (well it doesn’t look like the case because CyBC published a statement later, but I sense that it might’ve been the case), because “Running” wasn’t doing so well with the “YAS QUEEN” branch of the Eurofandom. Which sucks because Sandro would’ve actually been down to be asked again for Eurovision, as he revealed it to NikkieTutorials during many of her interviews with last year’s class of. “Agreement from both parties” my ass, unless Sandro secretly realized that like Tom Leeb, he was too busy for 2021 Eurovision, which I doubt. It actually sucks imo that Sandro can probably be considered as even a forever non-returnee, because Sandro is more of German roots than Greek, and if we learned anything about the Mukuchyangate 2021, is that Germany will never send a returning artist, at least one that didn’t represent their country first and foremost. So Greece could only ask Sandro nicely only if the contest comes on to Germany, I guess? How do you think they decided on getting Stefania, who still ever so regularly appears on Dutch music, to represent them this year? So on that regard the follow-up from CyBC stinks, eventhough I think that entrywise the follow-up was rather decent, at least in the usual Cypriot way of sending female pop (going from “Replay” to “El Diablo” which I like more than “replay”), and eventhough I’m falling out of the hype for Cyprus I once used to have, their 2015-2021 entry streak had entries that I largely feel positive for overall, so in that regard, the follow up is decent. Qualification factor: In a year of Semi 1 Female Banger Slaughterhouse, Elena goes out in my eyes with several scratches, but not enough to completely kill her chances. If anything, given the divisiveness of Ireland’s rehearsals, Elena is likely to obliterate any last memory of Lesley Roy any first time viewer has ever had, except for her stage graphics. Even if Elena’s staging will not be as mindblowingly cartooney as the last, once a bop comes on, everyone forgets the slower song and gives into the bop, at least that’s how the draws work when choosing what insignificant song to put on 2nd and wedge in between the opening banger and some lesser-key banger, right? I know that “Replay” barely qualified, but I find “El Diablo” slightly better, and it all goes well, it will barely just as qualify as well. Because in a Semi 1 Female Banger Slaughterhouse, she can’t be the losing one, really.

INTERNAL CORNER

I already told everything that was noteworthy about Elena’s journey in previous sections, honestly.

• That I said that CyBC likely ditched Sandro right after cancellation just like Hooverphonic ditched “Release Me” should they have had a chance to keep or toss their entry. It doesn’t present itself as the case, but I just feel like it is.

• That the song was revealed on a Cypriot talkshow where three dudes were aware that we were waiting for “El Diablo”, trying to throw some gratuitous English our way, hating that we didn’t like our show, but promising that “El Diablo” MV will be shown in “TWU MEENETS”, which wasn’t but worth the wait eh?

• That people were cackling at Zara Larsson joining in the talks of Elena’s MV having aspects of her own song’s MV plagiarized.

• That Elena performed her song in a private-ish event when drunk and having heaps of fun and people cried that it was gonna be a NQ.

And do I really need to elaborate about the local Cypriot church scandal? It just so happened that a bunch of people read into a song’s title so much, thought it was rude of their country to sing about the devil (eventhough the bigger offenses made here is the gratuitous Spanish more than anything), and hoped that the broadcaster will disqualify the very song they okayed to be internally chosen because they are displeased with it - and if it’s not disqualified, they even threatened to burn the headquarters down. No, really. That’s like the most amusing part of that whole spectacle. Imagine burning a broadcaster headquarters down for a song... if I did it for every favourite of mine that lost to other broadcasters, the broadcasters would run out of locations to rent, because everything else good is pre-occupied or the ashes of their lost headquarters staring back at them.

Imagine being toxicly Christian in 2021... How long until Elena’s face gets photoshopped on the main protagoniste of The Unholy?

ANY LAST WORDS?

Even if I’m with this song, part of me kind of wants me to fail to make Cyprus realize that their formula is starting to wear thin and they got to be somewhat of a versatile nation in Eurovision if they want to be on the radar of not just one specific niche. But then again, they learned nothing when they flopped with Tamta, because she sneakily qualified as opposed to failing even harder than Tulia, ah well. Will they ever learn?

But why would I openly wish this to a top 11 song of mine, oh dear. Good luck Elena, may God be on your side, I guess. :P