#i’m in genuine tears i’m hanging by a thread

[minwooks-moved]

📸 Luvminity_0917

[petit-etoile]

Congrats on the 200 Followers man! Here's my drabble for ya, go nuts on what you wanna write from this; “Kiss me and/or shut up.”

your  heart understood  mine

pairing: astarion/tav wordcount:  919 content warnings: ne.il new.bon said something about little astarions once & now i have Thoughts other tags: canon compliant, introspection, character study, idiots in love, established relationship, gender neutral tav, human!tav archiveofourown: here.

tag list: @azrielshadows1nger, @pandimoostuff, @faevi, @microskies, @foreverthemaraudersera, @queenofthespacesquids, @claryvoyantfray, @6doodlaang14, @anne-isnotokay, @itshimbotime, @yeeteth-the-raven, @sessils, be added to the taglist here

summary: 'When am I happiest?' / 'When I'm looking at you.'

‘So,’ Astarion says casually, staring at his nails. ‘What do you think the answers truly are?’

‘The answers to what?’ you ask.

‘Don’t play coy,’ he says. ‘The little…love test. I was rather pleased you didn’t expose me in front of a stranger, but now I’m curious.’

You remember Zethino now. You take a moment to glance at him, though your hands are still busy sewing away at a tear in your armor. Astarion is watching you while wearing a guarded half-smile, neither interested in his nails nor in your messy stitches. Your cheeks heat up and you look back down at your uneven handiwork. Your throat tightens a little.

When you had asked him if he had wanted to participate with you, you thought Astarion would reject it. It seemed silly, so out of element for the both of you that the thought of him genuinely agreeing never crossed your mind. Yet now he questions you about it, questions you about your answers, and you feel more nervous now than you had when Zethino called you stira. Astarion takes your armor from you and begins patching it himself, fed up with your clumsy stitches.

‘The heart is fraught, so let us begin with the joyous,’ Astarion recites sarcastically. ‘When is he happiest, my love?’

‘I don’t think you’ve ever been happy,’ you say quietly.

He hums. ‘Well, that’s mostly the correct answer,’ he says. ‘But you’re missing something. I know you can guess it if you really put your mind to it.’

‘You’re happiest with me,’ you say bravely.

You look him deep in his eyes, holding your breath. He laughs and nods, chuckling to himself while he tries to salvage a piece of leather. You think he might be blushing, but it’s hard to tell with how pale he is.

‘Many things delight the heart,’ Astarion continues, mimicking her monotonous timbre. ‘Only one makes it sing! Tell me, my sweet, what does he desire more than anything.’

Revenge. You had told the dryad he wanted revenge, but didn’t go into detail, not in front of someone unfamiliar. You watch as he untangles the thread, his hair soft and elegant, his hands assured and practiced. There lives a colony of butterflies in your chest. Your heart is beating so loud you’re certain he can hear it.

‘A life with me,’ you say.

‘You,’ he agrees.

‘A gaggle of little Astarions trailing around,’ you add.

Astarion looks up sharply, his mouth hanging open slightly. You press your lips together immediately and try to think of an apology but there’s something beneath his careful façade. You were right. You realize it now. You press a hand to your chest as if to stop your heart from pounding. Astarion wants a family, and he wants you, and even beneath that desire for revenge and for strength, once he succeeds then all he wants is you. He looks back down at your clothes in his lap and laughs shyly. You think you might faint.

‘The last, um, question,’ you stutter. You realize your palms are sweaty and blush.

‘Fear sits in the soul of all,’ Astarion says finally, voice soft. ‘To tame it, we must name it. What is his deepest fear?’

This time, you feel as though the answer isn’t so easy. Beneath the fear of Cazador and the fear of the mindflayers, there is something else brewing. You’re afraid to even mention it, but he’s curious and genuine. You slide closer to him and pull part of your armor into your lap so that you share the burden. He presses his nose to your temple and you distract yourself by touching the part of your armor he’s managed to save from your haphazard repairing.

‘You’re afraid of never breaking the cycle,’ you say carefully. You bite your bottom lip. ‘You’re worried that after all this rage, there’s no relief.’

‘Shut up,’ Astarion says.

There is little to no heat in it. You shake your head.

‘You’re afraid the you before Cazador is no longer there,’ you say. ‘And you’re afraid that because I am human, that there’s a ghost of you that comes after me.’

‘Shut up,’ Astarion insists.

‘Kiss me,’ you whisper. You turn to meet his lips.

Astarion presses a sweet kiss to your lips. You cherish it no matter how fleeting the kiss is. The silence, the quiet sorrow. It’s almost worth it for how he gently presses kisses against your temple and into your hair. He will never confess that what you said is true, and you’re almost thankful.

‘My turn,’ you say, clearing your throat. ‘When am I happiest?’

‘When I’m looking at you,’ Astarion says without hesitation.

‘O  — Oh.’

‘You desire a lifetime with me,’ he says with a practiced blasé shrug. ‘And little Astarions of course.’

You flush. ‘Shut up.’

‘And,’ he adds, ‘you’re deathly afraid of spiders.’

He laughs and kisses you again, and you wish you could bottle up the sound in a music box to play it back when you’re feeling lonely. You know what Zethino meant now when she said your bond beat with pleasure. You blossom beneath his careful musings.

‘See? We’re close as can be,’ Astarion murmurs. He rests his chin on your shoulder and brushes his thumb against your thigh. ‘But darling, if we’re going to have a lifetime together, we really must work on your stitching.’

‘Only if you’ll teach me,’ you say.

‘Oh, I’ll be the best teacher you’ve ever had,’ Astarion agrees.

[littlemsshoney]

Hannibal obsessed with one of his patients

Hannibal Lecter × patient!reader

Warnings: unhealthy dynamics, obssesive relationship, slight stalking, Hannibal being emotionally manipulative, mental health issues (he caused)

At first you were just another patient, a potential pawn or a future extravagant dinner he would enjoy some Friday night. Another lost and troubled soul that was unfortunate enough to find him.

There was something about you that caught his eye. The way you talked, the way you carried yourself.

However his interest grew like a forest fire, a burning insatiable hunger consumed him more and more with each one of your sessions.

He started taking notes of every little detail of your life and with some research of his own he soon knew every aspect of your life. Where you live, where you work, who your friends are, which cafe you spend your Saturday morning everything in.

He knew that he should feel bad for crossing such a line between a therapist and a patient but he didn’t really. After all, it wasn't that hard. With your social media your life was practically an open book for everyone to read and enjoy and if he didn’t then he was sure someone else did.

Only the thought made him angry. It wasn’t about your safety but more about his hurt ego. He had his eye on you, no one else should change that and he should make it known.

Of course he had always been a fan of traditional courting so don’t be confused when you start bumping into him in the most random places at some point with the excuse of cheering you up even being invited to one of his glamorous dinner parties. All of those situations you tried to avoid and refuse gracefully, not because of being aware of his true intentions but rather because you knew there was a thin line you shouldn’t cross.

So you didn't leave him any other way. He truly wanted to be gentle and kind with you and treat you like the precious, vulnerable creature you were in his mind but you just won’t have it the easy way, will you?

The thought of being patient- one of the tarits he awlways took pride on- now felt like a real torture. He wanted to consume you whole. There was something about you that reflected some part of him, an unknown familiarity of your pain. He wanted to break you down, then pick up your parts and build you up. Then do it all over again.

Your sessions were heavy at least. Raw honesty from your part and emotional manipulation from his all to serve the creation of an intense bond, a codependent relationship.

Your wellbeing and mental health had turned into a chess game and the game was anything but fair. In less than two months your whole well being was hanging from a thread and only he could help you or tear you apart.

One can only imagine the sadistic pleasure he took from your vulnerability and pain. Comfortably he sat at his armchair watching as you fell apart in front of him each week feeling worse and worse. All he had to do was just watch and enjoy, proud of his creation.

In his free time he recalled how beautifully you cried, so broken and desperate for him to fix you but all he wanted was lick your tears and take you in. He imagined you being under him, crying - from pleasure - his name rolling off your tongue over and over again.

Soon he had you feeling as if the whole world had turned against you. You couldn’t even trust your own judgement, you had cut ties with most of your friends -Dr Lecter advised you that none of them were genuine-you had become more and more isolated, you felt like you’re turning paranoid.

And then the final act of his play

“I’m really sorry I didn’t know where else to go” and like clockwork you deliberately walked onto his trap, basically sealing your own fate. All he had to do now is hold his door wide open for you to come in.

And then checkmate. That eventful evening standing on the doorstep of the only person you thought truly cared about you. He let you in and like a wounded bird he took you into his arms with such generosity and kindness in contrast to everyone else in your life. The irony.

“It will all be alright”

You wrap your arms around him, holding onto him for dear life, holding onto the only person that seems to understand you and actually wants to help you. As you cry on his shoulder he rests his chin on your head and gently caresses your hair.

Despite your persistence to resist him you are finally giving in. He kisses the crown of your head and though you know it is wrong you let him. You would let him do anything to keep him and he knows it.

Frozen in place you close your eyes as he kisses your forehead, then your eyes and cheek. You know what comes next yet you do not pull away, you don't resist what’s inevitable. A second passes and he doesn’t move, you open your eyes to see him staring at your lips. Now you know you want it, you feel his hunger as your own and you’re starving for it.

Grabbing him by his expensive tie you kiss him, not gently as he did but with desperation and need to be seen and understood.

Pleased he lets you have control just this once for the rest of your time together. He knew you would soon come to realise it’s only him you ever needed.

[urfavoritegirlkisser]

ooh for hazel maybe a fic where hazel is fully oblivious to the fact that reader likes her and misses their very obvious flirting until someone makes a joke about the two of them

idk i feel like that’s something she would do lmao

Oh for sure, she is definitely very oblivious when it comes to someone flirting with her

Tags: Fem!Reader, Hazel is so oblivious, swearing, a smidge of angst and insecure!reader, use of y/n, slightly suggestive at the end but it's no big deal honestly, lightly proof read, girls kissing (giggling and kicking my feet)

"Friends Don't Look At Friends That Way" - Hazel Callahan x Reader

“Maybe we could go hang out at your place? You could help me study for Mr.G’s final” You say, lightly grazing your fingertips on Hazel’s arm while batting your eyelashes up at her.

“Didn’t he literally give us the test answers as a study guide?” Hazel says, oblivious to your flirtation as always.

This was the billionth time it feels like that Hazel has shut you down, and honestly, you’re sick of it.

You decide to try a different tactic, gently grabbing her hand and admiring her rings, “I just love your rings” you rub your thumb across them and let your other hand rest on her thigh.

“Thanks! Most of them were gifts from friends, and this one was from a cool thrift shop downtown” Hazel rambles on while you sigh as she continues to ignore your obvious attempts at flirting with her.

You genuinely thought all hope was lost…until you heard PJ shout from across the gym.

“Jesus! Get a room you two, have some decency for the rest of us and go fuck in the janitor’s closet!” the girl shouts and your face heats up as a deep blush settles over your cheeks

Hazel scoffs, “What? We’re just friends PJ, don’t be a loser” she says while laughing nervously.

It took all of your willpower not to crumble right then and there.

You’ve had enough of this, you weren’t going to put in all this effort for someone who just sees you as a friend. Sniffling as tears start to form in your eyes from embarrassment, you quickly excuse yourself and practically run out of the gymnasium.

Your feet carry you to an abandoned classroom, where you let yourself finally let out the sobs you were holding in. Of course Hazel didn’t feel the same, why would she? She was amazing in every way and you were just some loser.

You’re so consumed in your thoughts that you don’t hear the door crack open and Hazel slowly walk inside.

“Y/n? Are you alright?” she says in a near whisper, but it still makes you jump and quickly look up at Hazel while wiping your tears.

“Hazel, what are you doing here? The club meeting is about to start, you know how PJ is with people being late” you try to speak in a confident voice, but it comes out shaky and thick from the lump of emotions in your throat and you look away from her so she can’t see your tears.

Hazel shakes her head and sits down beside you, “You’re more important than a stupid meeting” she says softly, “Josie told me about your feelings for me”

You groan at her words and put your head on your knees, looking back at her with a sniffle, “I’m so sorry Hazel, I get it if you don’t feel the same way and I won’t blame you-” your words are cut off by Hazel grabbing your face and hurriedly pressing her lips to yours in a bruising kiss.

You shriek in surprise at first, but quickly kiss back, shuddering as you feel her tongue enter your mouth.

Hazel pulls you onto her lap, your fingers threading into her soft hair as her hands rest on your hips. You both pull away after a moment, pupils blown, breaths heavy as the both of you just stare at each other for a moment.

Hazel is the first to speak up, “I’ve actually wanted to do that since the first time I saw you” she says breathlessly while moving a hand up to cradle your jaw and gently stroke your face with her thumb, “You are so beautiful y/n, I would be lucky to be able to call you mine” she says with a smile that makes your heart melt

“And I’m sorry for being such an idiot” she quickly adds which makes you laugh

You kiss her softly, pulling away just enough so your foreheads touch and you can just live in this tiny moment the both of you have created.

“As long as I can call you my idiot, then that’s all that matters” you say before the both of you dissolve into giggles.

an - meant to post more today, but got hit with a wicked migraine, so I hoped you enjoyed. Go drink water you girl kissers.

[raitonsfw]

𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚘𝚛𝚒 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚜 | 𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚘𝚔𝚊 𝚐𝚒𝚢𝚞𝚞

synopsis: You thanked the deities above you that you had noticed the rope that hung from Tomioka’s sleeves, eyeing you with compulsion. You knew it was only for missions, like if he had to tie someone up if they weren’t cooperating, but your mind went elsewhere and who could blame you? That’s why he’s laid out like this now, the shibari technique threaded down his chest, against his thighs... he was the perfect art form waiting to be painted with watercolors.

warnings: 18+ mdni, fem!reader, hashira!reader, shibari (or bondage), grinding (against one of the rope knots), teasing, dirty talk, slight dom!reader, slight sub!giyuu, begging, rope markings, gagging with rope, a quick mention about edging, p in v intercourse, riding, creampie, giyuu and reader are a couple, naive giyuu who just doesnt know how to socialize, shinobu outs the reader’s crush, alludes to giyuu being able to tear rope likes its fucking paper, (no idea how to put this as a warning but cbt?? reader presses her knee to giyuu’s cock a little too hard, but he’s a slut for it), pet names (princess, baby), use of honorifics in the beginning part.

a/n: so you guys can thank the inosuke scene and a random person on reddit for this. Like you know what, why does giyuu carry rope on him, idk but here’s food for thought. wc: 1.3k. m.list

divider credit: @benkeibear

It wrapped around him with intricate lines and tight knots adorning the middle of his chest. You were proud of your art, of your boy, laying against the sheets with nothing but the best shibari work entwined against him. You made sure you secured the knots, even double checking them, there was no way he would be able to get out of the soft embrace of the ropes. 

Days prior, you found out he carried rope with him on his missions and you were more than intrigued, for all the wrong (right) reasons of course. You knew he was quiet and well kept, nothing out of the ordinary ever really piqued your interest to bother him on dangerous missions until you saw the rope hanging from one of his haori sleeves. You swore at first you saw a thread loose, but upon further inspection you realized. 

“Tomioka-kun, you carry rope on you?” You asked, an innocence veiling your voice. 

“And you don’t?” He didn’t snap at you, it was more of a question answering yours as he kept his hand still on the hilt of his katana.

You stepped over a rock, humming to yourself whilst following him down the forest path. “I don’t believe I would ever have to tie someone up.” 

“You’d be surprised.” He muttered as he stuffed the rope back into his haori sleeve, the rest of it flowing with him as he sensed danger at the edge of the trees. “Stay close to me, princess.” 

You genuinely loved Tomioka, though you knew he didn’t pick up on it during the first few months he knew you. He seemed oblivious to a lot of social norms and tended to isolate him away from the Hashira group when everyone trained together. But you tried to stay as close as possible, offering him traditional gifts and food every chance you got. He took it with an aloof thanks, still so seemingly confused about why you cared so much about him. 

Until Kocho told him flat out at one of the meetings in front of everyone. You covered your face within your haori as the other Hashira muttered little sayings amongst each other. And there was Tomioka, blushing like an idiot and trying to apologize for being so naive. He stumbled over every word and chased after you as you ran towards the bridge that cascaded the water. 

“Y/N-san!” He caught up to you, his breath wavering as he slipped his fingers around your wrist. “I apologize for Kocho, she’s quite crude, isn’t she?” 

“I’m used to it.” You wiped the tears from your eyes as you looked over to him and you swore you saw his heart break in two. 

“So am I.” 

And here you were a few months later, learning shibari techniques as Giyuu laid out his entire body to you. He was naked from the waist up, the rope denting his skin and his boxers bunched against them except for the sleek waistband that crowded against his waist.

“I can tear these easily, baby.” Giyuu said, looking at you with a straight face. You frowned at your partner, smacking him on his bare thigh and he jerked it away with a silent chuckle. His hair came to lay against his back, out of the ponytail he normally wore and you tangled your fingers in it for a moment, reveling in the way he gasped as you suddenly pulled it.

“Well, don’t. I tried really hard to make you look pretty underneath me.” You pouted, leaning over his face. He yearned for your kiss, but he knew he wasn’t going to get your soft lips on his anytime soon. Not when your hands held extra rope that was pushed into the crook of his mouth, his teeth baring down onto it. He groaned around it and you tutted at him sharply.

“Stay still or I won’t ride you.” You said plainly, kissing at the flesh of his thigh as you looped a part of the rope around it. Your fingers then ghosted over the swell of his cock and he breathed out a light sigh, relief about flooding through him; but they moved past to pull another knot against his thigh. 

“Please, it’s enough...” He said slowly, trying to enunciate properly but failing as a tiny groan escaped him from you pinching his inner thigh. “I want you on top of me.” 

“What’d you say, couldn’t hear you properly?” You finished the knot and sat against it, grinding onto the knot on his thigh with a purposeful smirk. You let out a moan as the knot knocked directly against your clit as you rolled your hips onto it. “C’mon baby, use your words.”

Giyuu watched you with wide eyes and he threw his head back against the pillows as your knee pushed up against his cock, pleasure shooting up his spine. He panted out around the rope as you continued, pressing your shin into him harshly. His eyes squeezed shut and he trembled, wishing to so desperately touch you and get you to sit on him already but his hands had been bound by his back. 

“Oh you’re really enjoying yourself, aren't you?” You cooed, trailing your finger down the knots on his chest; some had been adorned within a heart while others were a typical knot. You smiled at the redness that laid beneath it, digging into his skin and you knew they’d leave marks only you could see afterwards. He practically writhed against you know, so fucking desperate, you knew once you sank down on his cock he wasn’t going to last very long. You’ve been edging him for hours prior whilst you tied the knots after all. 

You pulled down his boxers, letting his cock spring out onto the flat of his tummy and you noticed how much precum had leaked out of him during your teasing and rope knots. You kinda felt bad for him and you crawled over him, pulling your lace aside to take him into your entrance. “Fuck, I’m sorry Giyuu.” 

“Please, please, fuck me already.” He pleaded around the rope, saliva dripping from the corners of his mouth and you sank down in earnest. A long moan was drawn out from him and he thrusted up into your tight heat, nearly knocking you off of him. You steadied yourself on his chest, looking at him as he twitched inside you. His blue eyes were half-lidded, lust clouding them over and you rolled against him slowly so as to not overwhelm him too much. 

He bucked up in time with your hips and you clenched around him each time, hurtling towards your own orgasm as you picked up the pace. Whimpers and pleads slurred from his mouth the best he could and you were so grateful that the boy underneath you had been kind to your advances, once Kocho told him. 

You were absolutely in love with him. 

You felt his hips falter underneath you and you watched as Giyuu arched into his orgasm with a loud whine, his mouth open and the rope falling from it. You followed right after, bouncing on his cock at a fast pace as he whimpered at the oversensitivity. A few moments later, you moved off of him and his cum dripped out of you, down your leg and you cursed quietly. 

“I’m sorry, baby.” He apologized, his hair disheveled and there was a shine to his skin, as if he had been sweating. “I couldn’t help it.”

“It’s okay.” You smiled at him, moving to start untying the ropes that littered his body. “I think we’re done for tonight, okay?”

You kissed him gently and Giyuu nodded into it, love intertwining your tongue with his. Yeah, thank God for Kocho Shinobu. And thank God for the rope that fell from his haori, threaded with dirty thoughts.

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

[dreamwritersworld]

Disconnected… (sully family x reader)

this was inspired by 2 requests sent in so please enjoy! I didn’t link the two requests just cause I didn’t want to spoil it before you read so thank you! 💞

Y/n Sully. I was a happier child…until that light was pulled away and burnt out.

*five year old Y/n*

There was one too many moment where Jake had compared her to her older siblings…

Jake had pulled Y/n by her ear to listen to his words clearly about how she had to heal and be as good as Kiri..

Y/n walked into a separate room clearly in distress while Kiri was calmly sitting down beading a bracelet but she could sense something was wrong.

“What’s wrong?”

“…father keeps saying that I have to be like you but I’m not you.”

Y/n didn’t even give Kiri a chance to talk she knew that whatever she said wouldn’t make her feel better…not even a few moments after both sisters heard their mother talking to another Navi and that just made Y/n more upset.

“Kiri is the most beautiful child ever! We were given her so sudden and I always say to her, Eywa gave me you.”

Whats the softest way to say…you took away my passion…my happiness…what’s the kindest way to say?..you took away my spark.

-*

I had so much potential, had I just been brought up differently given the correct corrections and encouragement I would’ve been something…something meaningful.

*6 year old Y/n*

“Y/n! Hold the knife correctly! Look at the way your brother is holding it! Why can’t you just be smart? Think!”

Y/n was too young to even start early training but…he made her anyways, said “with her like that, she needs at least two years of early training! She needs to think smarter.”

The little girl was buried deep into training when all she wanted to do was continue making friendship bracelets for people…she was such a sweet little girl.

Every time Jake yelled, stood by, or ever so slightly glanced at her she felt slightly scared…it always felt like he didn’t care. Truth was Jake was reckless with her feelings..he didn’t care about how the outcome of his actions would reflect on the young child.

-*

Now I just sit in the comforting silence of the forest.

*8 year old Y/n*

There was one day when I was genuinely scared…terrified of the man yelling in my face..grabbing me, all because I failed at aiming correctly that day..but it was only because he made me stay up the entire night before practicing.

“Why can’t you just think kid?!”

He was pushing for words to come out as tears build up in my eyes.

“You were awful today!”

My own father could sleep peacefully in the fact that he was destroying me. It made him mad, my silence spoke louder than words..anger he wanted to come out of me. All of the sudden a full hand slapped my cheek.

My heart missed multiple beats when I realized what had just happened. That’s the moment I went numb to his actions, I quickly got up..wiped away my tears and went off to train without him. If someone were to ever hit me the way he did that day, I wanted to be ready.

-*

I was dragged through the mud, what’s more to be scared of..? I don’t need them or anyone.

I don’t speak much to anyone…they don’t try speaking to me either so I guess in a way I settled.

*9 year old Y/n*

Jake’s treatment towards Y/n was like whiplash. One second he’d give her slight hope it was ok and then the next second he’d crumble her to pieces.

He put Kiri and Y/n to healing and she was doing really well, until a hard week hit her.

“Y/n. You went from first…to worst in one whole practice! You need to do better, when will you get it?”

All siblings watched as Y/n curled herself in, hiding her head once he left.

They were sad to say they noticed how as the years went by Y/n no longer talked to them…to anyone. Yet all siblings turned a blind eye..maybe it was temporary?

-*

It doesn’t mean that i stay by myself all alone and do nothing, no absolutely not I enjoy adventure, hanging onto life by a thread…

*10 year old Y/n*

I actually used to have a good friend I knew for a short amount of time but sadly…she died. She didn’t know a thing about survival but it was because her father refused to teach her. So I taught her, but i wish I did it sooner, maybe if I did she would’ve lived…

It happened just moments after I taught her how to shoot a gun, she found hidden away.

“You want to see what i found?…will you show me how to use it?”

I was conflicted and confused because i had only learned briefly just once

“Ok…but it is not a toy.”

“I know!”

She pointed the gun up to a random tree turning to me asking what she would do.

“The most important thing is when you go to shoot, take a breathe before you hit the trigger.”

Tílí took this hilarious big breathe, exaggerating it.

“What should I shoot?”

Tílí was so…inexperienced, so much that That she didn’t even know you couldn’t wave around the gun. So I crouched and panicked the moment she aimed it at me unknowingly.

“Don’t do that!”

“I-I’m so sorry i- im sorry!”

Tílí immediately put the gun away but i didn’t even look…i looked at the forest searching for where the walking sounds came from.

“…Tílí..let’s go now.”

I yanked onto her hand and ran, hiding in an old lab, as we ran i could hear the man’s voice,

“Come out! Where ever you are!”

..we weren’t allowed to be in that part of the forest but I followed because she said she wanted to show me the gun.

We both sat down listening to the man whistling…this outsider must’ve been left behind when they were supposed to leave pandora, or perhaps this was the start of them coming back. Adrenaline raced through me that day…I was just a kid.

“I need you to listen to me. we have to go now…are you listening?”

Tílí just sat there, staring at the floor, and scared to move. When I reached out for her again she started talking louder.

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t. Daddy, I’m scared!”

It seemed as though she was stuck in time…like she believed her father would come right that moment, he made her so dependent..so scared.

“Snap out of it, Tílí!..please!”

My brain fogged up believing I wouldn’t be able to save her, I began to get scared. My head turned to the whistling getting closer and then i did what I believed was best..

“Move!”

Tílí felt my hand slap her across the face..and then she rushed up, I got her out first by holding her up to reach the skylight on the roof and then pulled myself up..as soon as we jumped off we ran but the man didn’t fail to notice us.

I ran with her but when we passed she had fallen and so did the gun but…the man shot her in the arm

“Get up Tílí! You have to trust me, I got you!”

Tílí screamed in pain as I yanked her up, catching the gun, and ran. The man was taking his time in catching us..he knew I wouldn’t want leave her…

She had no chance though, her speed was slower but I had to drag her, it left me no time to make turns so the man wouldn’t have a direct area to shoot. I didn’t even have time to hide us so I could kill him then..He had shot her in the chest.

“No don’t- Y/n! Daddy!!”

“No! Tílí!”

I instantly turned back and hid shooting the man from getting closer…my body went tense as I walked closer to Tíli, her body was shaking and hyperventilating.

“No, please Tílí! I’m so sorry! I’m sorry! Your my best friend…I’m sorry.”

I stayed in the forest crying, left with her body.

-*

That trauma didn’t go unnoticed. Mo’at could see that something was wrong with Y/n. It terrified her to see her grandchild’s downfall, she knew that Y/n would one day turn her back on her father for training and giving her pain so many years. Y/n wouldn’t let anyone even touch or stand by her…Mo’at wasn’t even an exception, no matter how much she wanted to heal those little wounds on her grandchild’s rough fingers and knees from training. She could see the pain Y/n was working through, the back pain from constantly doing tricks in training…suppose it was the reason Y/n was the best but it doesn’t mean it’s ok.

Y/n had been sitting on the floor, making medicine while Mo’at observed her…Neytiri walked in the room with medicine Kiri made from home.

“Kiri made some medicine for healing, mother.”

Mo’at hushed Neytiri and pulled her to the side, still keeping an eye on Y/n.

“We must talk..”

“About?”

“Y/n-“

“Oh mother please, no need to worry about that child she-she’s fine. She remains happy at home as well.”

“Really? If that were true, that child would feel safe enough to make medicine from home.”

“Mother. You cannot possibly be insinuating that-“

“Shh. It’s just Y/n, there’s something cold behind her eyes…”

Mo’at walked away leaving Neytiri wondering…she too watched Y/n while she unpacked the medicine Kiri was making from home…

After helping grandmother I had stayed out a little but I only came back late five minutes after eclipse and brought back food that I hunted for. I could feel him and his stares..how he was so fixated on me and what i was doing now that he wasn’t playing ‘olo’ekytan’.

“You staying out late again?! I already told you, your forbidden from staying out! You think bringing food back home will make it better?!”

I couldn’t listen. My hand automatically dropped the food off by my mother and I immediately walked back out the home entering the forest, too annoyed to deal with him…he didn’t stop though.

My feet walked faster, heart began beating louder and my eyes just kept looking forward, not turning back.

“You come back here right now. I mean it Y/n stop!”

I couldn’t..for the first time in a long time..i just wanted to stop, to look him in the eye.

“I’m gonna tell you right now, You’re-“

Sometimes my mind just fogs up and forgets my morals…just like him. I turned right around, banging my hand into a tree just to push him to listen.

“Stop! I’ll walk home sir just- stop.”

He continued mumbling words, yanking me by the ear, i allowed it…im not at my break point just yet. As we entered the home he threw me onto my hammock and i just accepted it, staring at the sky…the other thing about numbness is that it kinda collapses time…suddenly i find my whole days blending together creating this endless and suffocating loop, training is all I do…

“Dinners ready!”

My transit stopped and i got up slowly, sitting in my little corner. There was never space at our dinner area for me..so I just ate alone. Then i did my chores as normal, slowly walked up to my bed sighing at the fact that i didn’t have the warmth everyone else did. Mother seemingly forgot to request a new blanket for me and I didn’t make enough time to craft items to trade something in for it..so I’ll settle on the rough blanket with seeking holes.

The next day I was told to do hunting with Neteyam in the forest…we didn’t talk much, which made it easier for us to hear outside noises..Then a man came but wasn't normal navi, he was an avatar and he held a gun, seemingly scare almost like he got lost.

"Shoot 'em"

Neteyam couldn't pull the trigger, but I didn't have the patience and i shot the man in the leg...then the hip.

I walked slowly to him.

Neteyam slightly tugged on me to just walk away and not interfere...but i just couldn't…something was wrong.

"Cmon let's go."

“Shut up Neteyam.”

He was annoyed but he just didn’t understand what the situation was so I kicked the man repeatedly until he was begging me..and when he did I asked some questions.

“Who are you with? You are not normal Navi.”

Then he spitted in my face mumbling about him swearing and being loyal, I shot him in the head with my arrow.

“Idiot.”

We walked away in silence but i can tell In his face what i had just done bothered him..he’ll get over it though right? He’s supposed to be the strongest warrior. The noises weren’t done..we could hear our siblings voices as we walked away. Neteyam called for our parents but i couldn’t stay put like he did.

Neteyam was behind a tree ready to shoot an arrow but he hadn’t realized a soldier approaching so I jumped down from the branch stabbing repeatedly into the man’s neck quick to make it silent..i hid once again when I saw a soldier head our way..he hadn’t noticed the body, just grabbed Neteyam, snapping his bow into half.

I began killing all 3 soldiers around hidden in the trees pointing guns at my siblings who were on their knees.

My eyes landed on the two fallen guns and i shot 6 while they blindly shot in a panic…i didn’t see anyone else, my siblings had ran into my parents arms. I was covered in blood..fixated on two missing soldiers…

Quaritch watched from a far, he could see Y/n held zero mercy…she was the one who shot their soldier who got lost in the forest. If she was so cold…he’d be able to get to her, get through her head.

He made sure the soldier beside him stood up first, aiming a gun at Y/n and then he shot him…setting up a scene of him “protecting her”.

Y/n held her gun to him…but for a minute she seemed in awe, she was stuck in time..she felt like she knew who this man was, somehow and in some way she heard stories about him when she was listening to her parents conversations…as did he. The reason he knew about Y/n was because before they were sent back to the forest, they discussed the little information they knew about the sully family, Y/n sully being one of them. In all honesty he hoped he’d walk into her, she was a kid who he believed could easily be ended or manipulated, because Jake never loved her, no one did. Hints why back at the fort they referred to her as the ‘the child with no love’.

If he got her on his side, he’d be unstoppable and be able to kill her father with zero hesitation. He knew he needed her trust first so he dropped his gun, left himself defenseless.

“I won’t kill you kid. Those soldiers that you just killed, well I wish it was different I do but they were weak of will and character.”

Y/n was patient this time…this man wanted to actually listen and talk to her but then again she didn’t care, he held let them hold a gun to innocent peoples heads.

“You know what I wish? I wish I had killed you too. I still can.”

“Yet you haven’t, you think any of those soldiers would have the balls to say something like that. There’s no way you could’ve lasted this long by yourself, otherwise.”

He was wrong because Y/n was brutal when she had to be. But Quaritich seems to take the brutal mindset Y/n had to the furthest extreme. However what Quaritch does goes far beyond being brutal he was just ruthless ..And no one who is ruthless deserves to live. Y/n still let the man go on..trying to pick her poison.

“We’re more alike than you think. In fact I think you realize it…but you’re not comfortable with it yet.”

That’s where Y/n ended it she shot him in the leg, aimed right by his lungs…and then her bullets ran out. Jake was watching from afar…he saw the entire conversation…on his way back he saw the bodies on the floor with multiple stab wounds, and he watched how she walked up to him with a knife. Then..he was spotted by Quaritch.

“Jake-“

“Y/n! I’ll handle him. You don’t need to do that.”

Quaritch chucked at the oblivious father.

“That girl’s already seen more than you can imagine.”

Y/n turned to her father, rolling her eyes.

“I’m not going anywhere. That’s not your decision.”

“Atta girl, she ain’t afraid to look me in the eye like you Jake. You know that feeling you got right now? That's what makes you stronger than the rest of them kid….”

Y/n knew his words were true..but she was getting annoyed at the man who was repeatedly talking..letting all her thoughts out to her father..so she stabbed him in the neck, Repeatedly. Jake watched in horror, it was then that he realized he stabbed her in the back repeatedly as well…he made her a killing machine. She disconnected with the world more than usual and she didn’t even feel affected by it.

Everything felt slow..metal from the knife clinging with the soiled floor..blood covering her body. Y/n looked at her father, she wanted him to see her and the gore she created.

“this is what you’ve made me become.”

!💓!

Fun facts!

Kiri was making friendship bracelets at the age Y/n wasn’t allowed to!

Tílí was a reflection of what Y/n would’ve been if she hadn’t grown up quicker.

I didn’t show much of happier Y/n because her memories would be very faded from that time..she started to grow faster at age 5.

Tag list: @noodlesfics @eywas-heir r @itshype @zatarias-pandora @yeosxxx @arminsgfloll @tsireyak @neteyamforlife @aimsro @elegantkidfansoul l @goodiesinthecloset21 @nikotokitaswife @bucky1235 @detectivesparrow @kikosaurscave @ssc7514 @simp-erformarvelwomen @eirianna @ambria @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @lv9su @luciddasher @dakotali @httpjiikook @tainted-artist4161 @fanboyluvr @bat1212 @mxn14 @innersuitcasehairdoscissors @ducks118 @midnightliacr @osakis-gf @onetwo123three @briannalarae @thirsty4nonlivingmen @historygeekqueen @abbersreads @eskamybeloved @hoodiepandaninja16 @valovesyou @silentlyswimming @r3dc4ndy @onlytays @papichulo120627 @tsamiaxo @wwwellacom @dotheyevenknowmars @midgetpottermills @he110hon @kodzukenwhore @minkyungseokie

[munsonfamilyband]

As I’m currently writing my full fic for the Claudia idea I had the other day, here is a little sneak peak of a scene that genuinely had me in tears writing it.

————-

“Robin, honey, I know what you’re thinking…” Claudia made sure to speak softly. Robin was clearly hanging by a thread as they both sat by Steve’s bedside. “It’s not-“

“But it is my fault! I knew he was hurt and I just-I just went home. I left him alone and hurt and-“ Robin cut herself off to take a deep breath. “How could I forget that he was hurt?”

“Steve is a big boy, he can take care of himself, usually. And he always insists on taking care of himself.”

“Exactly! He insists he can do it but he never does! It’s my job to make sure he takes care of himself because otherwise he won’t.”

“I know you two are close, but sweetie, you don’t have to take care of him.”

“I do, because-because he’s my-my-… he’s mine. And I’m his, and we take care of each other. It’s like I always had a heartbeat but I never realized it was two hearts beating together, not just the one. I can’t-…I don’t know what I would do without him. So I have to make sure he’s safe, just like he does for me….. And I failed him.”

[enderpearlll]

Lmao bob in prison cell arc? 😭 Only thing his roommates hear from him are bout his ‘sweet pea’ and death threats. Maybe the occasional morbid jokes and ‘did you know?’

Yandere!Bob Velseb - My Favourite Employee. Prison Arc???

Bob in prison cell arc, I love it 😭 I just had to write a couple of headcanons for this!

Gender-Neutral Reader, but pet names such as sweet pea and darling are used.

This is a bonus part to My Favourite Employee, so read the main story if you haven’t yet.

• Bob nearly killed the cops who took him away from his sweet pea, throughout the ride to the station they had to restrain him because he wouldn’t. Stop. Fighting. He kept screaming and hollering at the officers, and he kept calling out for you until he was escorted to his cell. Now, Bob wasn’t the type to cry over spilt milk, or any type of inconvenience for that matter, but as he stared at the bars that held him back from his sweet pea Bob let out a sob.

• Now, like you said Bob would definitely be talking to himself to keep a smidge of sanity. He’ll mark down the days on the concrete walls, keeping a track of time with a wavering smile. Bob thinks of you 24/7 as to never forget a single feature on your face, which barely keeps him afloat. Every meal he can’t bring himself to eat, constantly worrying about you even behind bars. Did you eat yet? Were you alright without him? It tears him apart knowing that he wasn’t there to take care of you.

• It’s the thought of seeing you again that keeps him going, his heart swelling when Bob thinks of you being all alone. He reassures himself with sweet nothings catered towards you, pretending that you were with him all hours of the day. Now, the two thieves on the other side of his cell were sick and tired of Bob’s shit. All they can hear was “Sweet pea, ‘m so sorry…” “Darlin’…” and the never ending scratching against the walls.

• Bob aches for the chance that you’d visit or at least call, but as weeks go by the ache in his chest only gets stronger. He knows you’ll come for him, he knows it… Bob gets so bad to the point where he has hallucinations about you and vivid dreams with you in them.

• Eventually, three years pass by and Bob is barely hanging on by a thread. His walls are covered in carvings of an obsessive manner, there was even drawings made with his own blood. When a creepy doll had opened the cell door and waddled off, Bob watched as the bars that separated him from his sweet pea opened wide with a loud creak. Bob stumbled out of his dark corner where he sat most of the day, rubbing his eyes in disbelief.

• He couldn’t believe his eyes, was this a dream? It was all too good to be true as he stepped into the hallway, a wide grin stretching over his face. His heart was beating out of his chest, having felt genuine joy for the first time in literal years. He let out a wild bout of laughter, his cheeks hurting from how hard he was smiling.

“Don’t worry sweet pea, I’m comin’ for ya…”

[lovecanyon]

Dad!harry!!!

INSTAGRAM BLURB

dad!harry x y/n

MASTERLIST | PATREON

-

liked by harryfan5, harryfan7 and 403,819 others

harryflorals HARRY PICKING UP Y/N FROM THE GYM YESTERDAY IN LA!

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harryfan9 i am crying

harryfan4 Y/N CONSTANTLY STAYS WINNING

harryfan10 imagine your fiancé harry styles picking you up from the gym 😭

harryfan8 a literal dream

harryfan6 MOM AND DAD

harryfan11 i’m hanging on by a thread 🚬 🚬

harryfan3 oh em gee

harryfan13 jealousy is consuming me right now

harryfan15 the way harry most likely was on the phone with y/n…

harryfan17 he was probably telling her that he was there to pick her up 🫠

harryfan12 SHE WAS WEARING HIS SHIRT TOO

harryfan14 i love beau and inez’s parents

harryfan16 his smile 🧎‍♀️

harryfan18 future mrs. styles

harryfan20 y/n always puts a smile on harry’s face

harryfan22 I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

liked by harryfan19, harryfan21 and 278,165 others

dailyhs Harry on stage tonight in LA for night 12!

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harryfan26 I WANT HIM

harryfan29 he’s such a dilf 😫

harryfan23 when you remember harry goes home to his fiancé and children…

harryfan27 you gotta love a family man

harryfan30 harry has me in agony

harryfan24 jumping off a cliff

harryfan28 he looks more like a dad everyday

harryfan25 AND i’m dying again

harryfan31 harry is the literal definition of hot

harryfan33 i seriously will never get over him 😭

harryfan35 tears.

harryfan37 he always seems much happier when y/n is at the shows

harryfan32 harry really is in love with her

harryfan39 @yourinstagram i want your man

harryfan34 he’s so perfect 🧎‍♀️

liked by harryfan40, harryfan45 and 330,916 others

ynharryupdates Y/N AT HARRY’S SHOW TONIGHT! via jefezoff

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harryfan42 she’s so cute 😭

harryfan49 I LOVE HER

harryfan41 y/n is so supportive of harry…i’m sobbing

harryfan46 jeff posting this on his ig story was the best thing ever

harryfan43 y/n + jeffrey = best duo to ever live

harryfan48 MOTHER OF LOVE ON TOUR

harryfan50 i love the way y/n’s always in the pit 😌

harryfan44 a moment to remember

harryfan47 harry’s fiancé and manager being in the pit with fans is so iconic

harryfan51 i love y/n deeply

harryfan53 SOMEONE PLEASE RUN ME OVER

harryfan56 why is this so cute

harryfan57 you can genuinely tell y/n loves harry so much 🫠

harryfan52 she’s the best i swear

harryfan54 harry’s number one fan is also his future wife

harryfan58 i can just tell she’s so fun

liked by harryfan55, harryfan59 and 508,649 others

stylesupdates Y/N in Los Angeles this morning buying balloons for Harry since he got nominated for seven Grammy awards!

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harryfan61 she loves him so much omg

harryfan64 Y/N GOT HARRY ALL THOSE GRAMMYS IN THE FIRST PLACE!!!

harryfan67 without her we wouldn’t have gotten harry’s house 🚬 🚬

hrryfan63 she probably surprised him too…

harryfan65 and i’m crying again

harryfan68 y/n is the best fiancé and mother, harry is so lucky to have her

harryfan60 THIS IS SO CUTE

harryfan62 she also had a seven balloon too 😭

harryfan69 sweetest thing ever

harryfan66 y/n’s existence gave us 7 grammy nominations 🙏

harryfan70 I WANT HER LIFE

harryfan78 the balloons probably made harry so happy

harryfan72 i loved her so much

harryfan74 you just know y/n, harry and their children celebrated the nominations 🫠

harryfan76 y/n really is so supportive

liked by harrystyles, _basselin and 5,907,861 others

yourinstagram at harry’s house!

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harryfan71 SUPPORTIVE FIANCÉ SUPPORTIVE FIANCÉ SUPPORTIVE FIANCÉ

harryfan73 y/n is so cute 😫

harrystyles I love my girl.

yourinstagram and your girl loves you! 🤍

harryfan75 SHE LITERALLY HAS HIM WRAPPED AROUND HER FINGER

harryfan79 i seriously will never get over harry and y/n

brittany_broski i had such an amazing time with you!

harryfan77 how does it feel to live my dream

pillowpersonpp my favorite muse in the world!!!!

harryfan80 ME NEXT 😭

annetwist Hope you had a fun time darling 🥰

harryfan83 MRS. STYLES I LOVE YOU

jefezoff love the no photo credits!!!

yourinstagram you deserve it j

harryfan86 LMAOO SHE’S SO FUNNY

alessandro_michele so beautiful y/n ❤️

harryfan88 PAUSE. DELETE. I CAN’T HANDLE THIS

liked by yourinstagram, harrystyles and 1,308,164 others

annetwist Decided to share a photo of me and a newborn Inez. One of my favorite memories ever. ❤️❤️

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harryfan89 OH MY GODDESS

harryfan82 inez was so tiny, i’m literally sobbing

harrystyles She loves her Nan very much.

annetwist I just love my grandchildren! 🥰

harryfan84 i can tell anne really wanted grandchildren

emmalouisecorrin such a sweet moment

harryfan87 this is honestly the cutest thing i’ve ever seen

tchalamet so precious 🤍

harryfan81 @yourinstagram thank you for gifting us dadrry

gemmastyles so so adorable!

harryfan90 i still can’t believe harry styles has children…

adele granddaughter and her nan ❤️

harryfan93 tears are steaming down my face

jefezoff baby inez and anne!!!

harryfan95 y/n having harry’s children was the best thing ever

kidharpoon styles family for the win

-

tag list: @harrysmatcha @harryspinkpillow @helen-with-an-a @florencepughily @peterparkerbae @toji-dabi-wife @fallonx @drphilssoulmate @cherriesrae @alienorknight @valluvsu @ivegotparticulartaste @ayeshathestyles @hazgoldenstyles @eiffelmezarry @tsukishimawhore @renatavieira @michellekstyles @eleanordaisy @shawnsblue @japanchrry @agustdpeach @hannahnikohl @whoscamila @ch3rryrry @msolbesg @seguin-styles1996 @futuristicpalacegardenpsychic @youusunshineyoutemptress @kaitieskidmore1 @cherryfragrancx @ssuziess @milkiane @golden-hoax @flwrmuse @sunshinemendes8 @your--sweetest--downfall @melllinaa @iluvjj @tenaciousperfectionunknown @cashtons-wife @stellarossii @scenesofobx @manifestrry @lomlolivia @b-reads-things

[abbyromanoff]

What I Wouldn’t Do

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x reader

Word count: 1849

Warnings: smoking, arguing, unreciprocated love, sadness, crying, angst, manipulation, toxic!Nat (not as toxic in this chapter), fluff, comfort

Summary: Moving to a new town is never easy, especially not when you don’t know anyone there. Only, to your luck, you found someone, someone who you love. But, she has secrets you don’t know, and she has a side of her you’ve never seen. Maybe your family was right, maybe she is just trouble.

Series here

No one is permitted to steal, copy, or reblog my work as their own!!

“I tell you, that girl is trouble!” Your father and mother were bickering back and forth over your new friend. Your father hated her immediately, but your mother was just happy you were meeting new people. Your family had just moved to this town three months ago due to your mother’s new job. You didn’t like the people here, they were all entitled and thought of only themselves. But she was different. Nat wasn’t selfish or entitled, she genuinely cared about you and your well-being. Yeah, she may smoke or drink occasionally, but she made you happy. You didn’t care for her bad habits, she was enough to fulfill your needs.

“Can’t you just be happy that our daughter has finally made a friend?” Your mother countered back, a vein nearly popping out of her forehead due to all the yelling.

“A friend like her? Y/M/N, she’s trouble, we can’t have her hanging out with our daughter. What happens when she takes her to a party? Or offers her a drink or smoke? You don’t think she’ll feel pressured to fit in, hm?” She stopped, running her hands through her hands and sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Can’t you just give her a chance? She may not be all bad.” Tears pooled in your eyes at the thought of losing Nat. You couldn’t lose her, you loved her. You ran to the house phone, dialing her number that you remembered by heart by now. It took only two rings before she answered.

“Hello?” The voice asked, you could tell it wasn’t Nat.

“Uh, is Nat there?”

“Oh, Y/N! Yes, let me go get her.” You could hear her yelling out in the distance, the light sound of footsteps approaching causing your heart to race even more. Melina handed her the phone, giving her a sly smirk that Nat chose to ignore.

“Y/N? What’s up?” You could hear the slight rasp in her voice, signaling that she was either smoking or had just woken up.

“Um, can I come over? My parents-” She seemed to have known what you meant the second she heard the quiver in your tone. She didn’t let you finish, quickly interrupting you with exactly what you hoped to hear.

“Of course, you can, Y/N, I’d love to have you over. Uh, do you want me to pick you up or are you walking?” You didn’t want to cause a hassle so you went with the latter, saying your goodbyes and packing a bag with everything you needed. You knew she’d convince you to stay the night like she always did, but she was just too hard to say no to.

You could hear your parents still going back and forth with each other in their room two doors down. You wrote a quick note and left, tears still streaming down your face.

Only ten minutes later and you were in front of her house, knocking quietly in hopes of not disrupting anyone. It was late, nearing six PM and dark. You were cold, and the cool winter breeze was not helping. You cursed yourself for not bringing a warmer jacket, hoping the two-story house had some warmth to it.

Nat quickly answered as if she was waiting by the door for you. A smile grew on her face, only to quickly disappear when noticing the way you held back tears. She rushed to pull you into her arms, her hand going to the back of your head and threading her fingers through your hair. Your arms went to wrap around her waist, holding her closely as your tears spilled into her bare shoulder that was loosely covered by a tank top strand.

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s okay, I’m here. I’ve got you.” Her body felt comforting, calming. She felt like a breath of air after so long.

“Please, I don’t want you to leave me.” It was pathetic, how could you be so upset over the thought of losing someone you’ve known for only a month now? You both went to the same school and were in the same grade. Although, she was still a year older than you. You assumed she stayed back a year. She sat next to you in every class you shared, she was always drawing on herself and trying to distract

It was your senior year and even though you were eighteen, you still didn’t have that freedom of being an adult, your parents restricted you from that. But Nat was always there to listen and hold you through all the tough times, you didn’t know what you’d do without her.

“I love you, Natty.”

“I love you too, Y/N.” You could only hope she meant it just as much as you, but you knew no one could ever love someone the way you loved her. You’d do anything for her, you’d die for her.

“C’mon, let's get you inside, it’s cold out here.” She wore khakis and high white socks with no shoes. It was clear she wasn’t wearing a bra with the way you could see the outline of her nipples through her shirt. Her hair was in a messy braid, probably all ruined from a nap.

“Mom, me and Y/N are going in my room!” She yelled out to her mother who was standing in the kitchen looking at her book of recipes, probably debating on what to make for tomorrow night.

“Okay, have fun!” Her parents were more relaxed, less controlling over what she did and who she did it with. You wished you had her parents, anything would be better than yours.

She opened the door and walked in, holding it open for you before shutting it closed. You took in her room, the strong smell of cigarettes and weed invading your senses. You could’ve started a coughing fit just from the smell alone. But it was a comforting aroma. Knowing the smoke came from her joint or her cigarette made your hatred for it die down.

She laid across her bed, spreading her legs and resting her arms behind her head. She grabbed the remote to the small box tv in the corner of the room, flipping through the few channels before turning it off with a sigh. She turned to look at you, giving you a weird stare and pointing to the spot next to her.

“Well, are you gonna sit or are you just gonna stand there like an idiot?” She laughed, causing you to let out a fake one of your own. You set down your bag on the floor and sat on the edge of the bed, only to feel hands grabbing your own and guiding you closer to her figure. Your startled face caused her to giggle, she always found you amusing.

“There’s no need to be afraid, doll. I’ve got you.” Her hands were holding your waist with a soft yet harsh grip. She rubbed them up and down slowly, letting you calm down before sitting you on her lap. You leaned into her hesitantly, resting your head on her shoulder and having her arms wrap around you. This wasn’t weird, right? I mean, it was just too girls being friendly with each other, there’s nothing wrong with that. But, maybe there was. You’ve never seen two girls act this way, only a boy and a girl. Was this what your parents meant by a ‘bad influence’?

“Baby, what’s on your mind, hm?” You released a heavy sigh, turning your head to meet her view. She smiled down at you before leaning over to grab a cigarette from her bedside table. You watched the way her fingers held the tobacco-filled substance and the lighter. Her lips wrapped around it and she brought her other hand to cup around it, clicking the lighter until it finally turned on. The way she murmured ‘fuck’ under her breath and blew smoke into the air made you feel things you never felt before. Shit. That’s not normal, it couldn’t be.

“Uh, nothing. Just thinking.” She was giving you that look you knew all too well, she was going to convince you to tell her exactly what you were thinking. But you’d tell her anything she wanted to hear.

“Mhm, about what?”

“Just,” You tried to think of what to say, you couldn’t tell her the truth. You couldn’t tell her how you could feel yourself growing wetter just by looking at her irresistible face. “What does that taste like? Like- the cigarette, is it good?” She nodded slowly while taking a drag from the small object, smiling when she finally let it free from her mouth.

“You wanna know what it tastes like?” Your nod was enough confirmation, she grabbed your chin and placed it in between your fingertips. You gulped nervously and let her lead it to your lips, opening them and breathing in as she instructed.

“Mm, not too much now, love. That’s it, you’re doing great.” You coughed dramatically as the smoke entered your lungs. This wasn’t like when your dad would smoke and you’d get a small whiff of it, this was the real thing. “That’s it, you’re okay. Get it all out.” She kissed your forehead, letting her lips linger a second longer before leaning back and examining your face. You looked worried and afraid, but she eased any fears you may have.

“M-my parents, they could find out what I did! Oh god, what if they can smell my breath-” The sound of a deep laugh made you furrow your eyebrows, giving the redhead the best glare you could.

“This is not funny, Nat! I shouldn’t have done that, I’m so screwed.”

“You know you can just say fuck, right? It’s just a word, it doesn’t hurt.” She loved how sweet and innocent you were, you were perfect to corrupt. But sometimes it was too much. I mean, you couldn’t even swear without it being a low whisper and apologizing repeatedly after. You were her pure angel and she loved you for it, but she didn’t love you. She doesn’t love people, especially not an immature girl like you.

“You can stay with me for the night, my parents won’t care.”

“Uhm, are you sure? I don’t want to cause trouble.” She waved you off, standing up to grab her hairbrush and head out the door. Before she left the room, she turned to look at you with a caring glance.

“Don’t worry about it, you’re fine. Now, get some sleep, okay?”

“Okay, thank you, Nat. I love you.” She smiled at you, you returned it. God, the way her teeth peeked through her plump lips made your heart skip a beat.

“I know you do.” That was the last thing you heard before resting your eyes, escaping into the world of sleep feeling like the most loved girl in the world. Nothing else mattered to you anymore, nobody but Nat mattered. She was the only one who loved you after all, at least that’s what you hoped.

[moreausturtles]

"the orange sun in the blue sky"

a/n: hi guys this is a rly rly old weirdly made draft that I made during my rly bad hyperfixation on the rise movie; i thought i might share it with y'all bc im somewhat proud of it? pls dont mind any mistakes i wrote it in a rush i think...? gl to everyone reading hahaha lmk what u think pls dont be mean

summary: leo and mikey are the only ones alive. they finally defeat the last of the kraang, but at a cost.

warnings: unchecked + unedited weird bullet point format; slight mentions of death/blood; one swear word?; very angsty and sad sorry :((

word count: ~1k

(imagine FINALLY defeating Krang 1 as a mission success)

- the baja blast duo fight the krang, lots of hard hits and close calls and they have the LUCKIEST breakthrough.

- krang 1 is on the ground and no longer able to move, all its tentacles are severed. its hanging on by a thread, one that leo is more than happy to cut.

- “this is for my family.” leo whispers, looking down at the krang in disdain.

- he jabs his sword into the krang's body under his foot, killing it in one motion.

- and just like that, it was over.

- leo takes a moment to breathe, like his body wasn’t letting him before.

- he allows himself to think, to process, to take in the fact that they had just won the war.

they won.

- a small smile grows on his face and a quick rush of excitement takes over his body

- “we did it…” he whispers, “mikey, we did it!” he repeats it, a part of him still in denial and acting like saying it again was going to convince him that the worst was over.

- but the worst was far from it.

- he turns around to mikey excitedly, who he thought was just quiet because he was just as shocked as he was

- but boy was he stupidly wrong

- mikey stood there, a hand on the side of his plastron with blood dripping from it then to the ground

“mikey…?”

- he tries to give leo a smile, but fails as his body drops to the ground

- leo’s heart drops along with him, he calls out his name and runs to him quickly and takes him in his arms

- mikey, even before his mystic powers, always had this signature orange glow radiating off of him. but this time, leo was afraid it was going to become very dim very soon.

- leo took his baby brother’s head in his hand—he didn’t care if mikey was fucking older than him (hc no thanks to his excessive use of mystic power), he was still his baby brother

- mikey needed medical attention fast. but they were in the middle of nowhere. no medical team. no backup. no hamato.

- “we did it, leo…?” mike manages to whisper out and smiled up at his older brother.

- “yeah buddy, we did…” the sniffling soon came as leo tried to fight back tears. he had known this would happen; could you really blame a guy whose family got picked off one by one during the apocalypse to think that way?

“i’m sorry, leo...”

- god, mikey’s voice shattered leo’s heart into pieces. so weak and trying.

- “hey,” leo uttered, trying to change the topic, “remember the time when you thought the gumbus was real?”

- this earned a very weak, wheezed chuckle from the mystic turtle, who had his eyes closed to visualize the fond memory

- “you did too…” leo laughed bitterly at that, feeling his little brother’s breathing pattern slow.

- “i did, yeah. it’s one of my favorite memories.” said leo.

- “mine too…” mikey opened his eyes, the memory ending, and looked up to see leo’s face drenched in tears. a pang hit mikey’s chest as he realized he was going to leave his brother soon.

- “hey, leo?”

- “yeah, miguel?” a playful nickname he hadn’t heard in years.

“you were always my favorite brother.”

leo laughed, genuinely laughed even though it felt like he was being stabbed in the chest tenfold.

- “don’t tell donnie or raph.”

- “i think they know.”

- both of them pause for a moment, neither of them knowing what to say or do. there wasn’t really anything else to do but wait. Each second leo spent trying to figure out what words he wanted to tell mikey. “I’m sorry.” “Say hi to them for me.” “Please don’t leave me alone.”

- mikey was his partner in crime and now he was just… fading. His little brother was dying.

- leo knew their time was running short from the way he was listening to mikey’s labored breaths. slow and trying. mikey thought about using his mystic power for one last push, to stay with leo, to make do with what was left of the world.

- they could rebuild it. it was easy for him to make things out of thin air. leo knows how to build and farm and haul and everything you could think of.

- but the mystic warrior was tired. they had been fighting for decades. he couldn’t lift a single finger even if he tried, and that was fine with him. he honestlyhadn’t felt relaxed like that in years.

- maybe they were better off not saying a word, mikey needed to save any air he could take in. leo kept his mouth shut just so he could spent just a little bit more time together in this bittersweet silence.

- suddenly he sees mikey’s lips open a little bit, and the next words that come out would forever leave leo wounded.

“I love you, big brother.”

- it took everything in leo to not break out in full sobs right then and there. he wanted to scream, beg, plead to the God that did this to mikey— if one even existed.

- leo swallowed the lump in his throat, forming the best—and last— smile he could muster for mikey, mimicking him the way he used to do it for him and his older brothers so they wouldn’t have to worry.

“I love you too, little bro.”

- leo’s little ray of hope slowly went limp in his arms. and he was all alone.

- leo kept mikey in his arms, still and unmoving. maybe it was his punishment for putting mikey in this whole mess. for destroying the world and his entire family. maybe a God did exist, it was just never in his favor no matter how hard he fought to appease it.

leonardo, the last one standing of the hamatos, defeated the Krang and lived, while mikey took his place in the sky as leo’s ray of sunshine.

[horsetailcurlers2]

YET ANOTHER long and obnoxious stream of my thoughts while watching grey’s anatomy for the first time (season 14 because i’m still hanging on by a thread)

-why did megan hunt have a fresh coat of mascara and some lip gloss on when she got flown in with her gaping abdominal wound LMAO

-teddy!!!!!

-i absolutely think they should tell megan about meredith and riggs and let her make an informed decision on whether she wants meredith to be her surgeon. this is greys anatomy, of course there’s gonna be a conflict of interest. they’re making this more complicated than it needs to be.

-somebody tell me when the show stops being worth watching. so far i’m hanging on bc i’m mildly interested in how jo and alex turn out, i want teddy and amelia to interact, and i’ve warmed up to arizona since she broke up with callie. obvi i love meredith i just don’t know how much more they can do with her before i just want her to take a warm bath and retire to somewhere far far away with her children.

-did amelia relapse offscreen???? wtf is going on???

-okay she has a tumor i guess. sure, okay, whatever. !!!!

-she put a gun in her !!!!!!!!! for a man???

-i don’t love the way they’ve introduced the new intern class. they set it up as if we already know them, whereas i feel like with every other class of interns we’ve gotten eased into it a bit more before we’re just tossed into this unfamiliar dynamic

-okay but wait i do like that in this ep w the roller coaster (and the people who are supposed to be baby cristina, george and izzie) they referenced the old intro. i think the writers knew they needed a little nostalgia to hook people back in at this point. jury is still out whether or not it’s working on me.

-maybe i’m stupid but why in the fuck would they have so many important things dependent on one networked computer system. why on earth would cardiac monitors be hackable?????

-idk about maggie/jackson…. seems too incest adjacent

-the casual gaslighting and manipulation with paul stadler is so well written

-“jackson avery, you are such a disappointment, i thought you were woke!!!”

-genuine question: do they just not do chemistry reads on this show when they cast romantic interests???

-*choked up*”right before she died, she told me i should be more slutty. and i just wish i could call her and tell her how slutty i’m being” i really do love maggie

-maybe i missed it but why does carina have an italian accent but andrew doesn’t?

-i like the development of jo and meredith’s relationship

-i think meredith and this firefighter woman should kiss on the mouth

-i like april better now that she’s kind of a mess

-OOH wait does helm have a little crush on meredith bc i’m kind of obsessed with that

-if there’s one thing greys usually kills it with its casting younger versions of characters for flashbacks

-i miss joe the bartender :(

-oh my god he gives them fake cancer so he can charge them for fake chemo?????? what the fuck

-too much of an emphasis on these lesbian cookies…. suspicious

-okay yeah that makes sense. i love this

-nurse olivia!!

-olivia of course has a right to still be upset but it’s a little weird to assume alex didn’t change at all in the past ten years. not to mention it’s weird to act morally superior about it now when she cheated on george with alex

-“if you wanna rebuild you have to tear it down first” bingo

-did i miss amelia getting her own place or is she taking this girl to meredith’s house??

-okay i guess she’s just moved in with owen again. i need to pay better attention lol but so much keeps happening and it’s a lot of mush to sift through

-“meredith grey is straight” “ever hear her talk about cristina yang?” LMAO

-PREGNANT?

[latelyanobsession]

Bang Bang

summary you hadn’t known billy hargrove long, but you won’t let the impact he made on you go unnoticed.

warnings angst, pining, grief, and pure unadulterated tears

word count 1,228

note I was writing for my series when Nancy Sinatra’s Bang Bang - My Baby Shot Me Down came up on my Spotify and I just said to myself, ‘wow fuck me up fam.’ And so I thought I shouldn’t keep the tears to myself anymore. tried to once again write this from a gn!reader perspective.

As always any feedback is much appreciated. Thanks for reading!

You’d barely even known Billy Hargrove for a year.

Not even a year.

It might be better to say you hardly knew him.

And yet a part of you felt like you’d known him forever.

When you heard the helicopters roaring by overhead as you stood in your yard that muggy July morning...

You somehow knew in the pit of your stomach that something had gone terribly wrong.

Going inside to ask your parents about it, your mother already had on the television.

The local news affiliate, WCPK was broadcasting from the Starcourt Mall. 

“There’s been an accident...” your father said from his armchair, clicking up the volume.

Hope Freeman was reporting in front of the south entrance near the food court.

Smoke was billowing in large plumes from the roof behind her.

But that wasn’t what upset you.

Behind the police tape, to the right of the camera frame, was a busted up muscle car next to a totaled convertible.

There was only one guy in town that you knew who drove a car like that.

Who drove a 1979 Chevy Camaro Z28.

You grabbed your keys.

It couldn’t be true.

There was already a crowd at the mall. You couldn’t even begin to count how many news vans there were. 

This was probably the biggest story to ever hit Hawkins to date. But that wasn’t what you cared about.

Your feet carried you to the exact spot. As far as the police tape would let you go.

It was true. 

There. Right in front of you.

The passenger’s side of the camaro was wrecked. The sideview mirror was hanging by a thread. The hood was bent up, pulled away from the frame.

The windshield was smashed beyond recognition and ... were there bullet holes?

Water was dripping from the chassis but the remains were still smoldering. The contracting metal still making small clinks and pops as it cooled.

The car looked so horrific. It terrified you thinking of the violence that had occurred overnight. 

While you had been none the wiser. Sleeping comfortably.

You felt sick. Guilty. How had you not known?

On the far east side there were still a few ambulances packing up.

You needed to know. 

The EMTs were not busy. There was no flurry of activity.

Weren’t they supposed to be helping people?

A gurney was rolling out one of the bay doors. There was a sheet covering their form.

You really, truly didn’t want to think about this. The possibility of who was under there.

Hitting the curb, an arm rolled out. 

You choked out a loud sob, your eyes seeing the ring on the middle finger.

Reality was cruel. 

You had just seen him a couple days ago.

You had a massive argument that night. He said the most the most terrible things to you. 

Things that you never would’ve believed he would say. It didn’t really seem like he himself believed he was saying them.

He wanted you gone. Out of his life. At any cost he said.

You didn’t believe him. It was breaking you. 

Shattering you to pieces to hear each biting word come from the lips of someone you trusted so dearly.

Someone you genuinely loved but had no heart to tell.

He pushed you out. 

Slamming the door right in your face, and taking everything you thought you had figured out in life with him.

The funeral was miserable.

Not only for yourself but because you knew it was exactly the kind of thing he would have hated.

All the dressed up pomp and circumstance just to be planted in the ground and forgotten by people who pretend and never really knew who the hell you were in the first place.

The fake smiles. The fake tears. The false and empty “I’m sorry for your loss...”

He would have absolutely hated it.

The only person who really seemed to enjoy themselves at his funeral was his father.

The man couldn’t seem to get enough of people’s handshakes and condolences.

He fed on their pity and attention in a way that nauseated you.

You spent most of the service sitting next to his sister Max.

Neither of you said much to one another, but somehow it seemed like you both understood how awful and how stupid this all felt.

You both took solace in each other’s company if only for that reason alone.

It wasn’t even two weeks after the funeral when you heard his father was going to scrap the camaro.

You offered him cash on the spot. You didn’t even care if it was over half your savings that you had been scraping together since you were twelve.

You could not let one more piece of him be destroyed. You just couldn’t.

You lost count of how many times you’d cried since that July morning.

But the time that you cried the hardest was when the camaro was hauled into your driveway.

You had to pry the door open, the hinges creaking in distress.

Glass was everywhere. The dashboard was melted and singed with smoke.

Sitting in the tape deck, half inserted was a Def Leppard cassette, warped from the heat of the fire.

Below in the center console, were his most prized possessions.

His aviators, a zippo lighter, half a remaining pack of Marlboros and two other cassettes. Scorpions and Metallica.

You sat in that car for hours. Crying.

When you couldn’t cry any longer you would just sit there quietly and think.

Think of all the times you had been in this car.

All the times he’d yelled at you for turning down the music. Or rolling the window down. Or touching anything.

Arguing about his car. Arguing in general.

Laughing. God you missed his laugh.

His smile. The way he’d bashfully look away when a genuine grin would grace his lips.

God it all hurt so much.

Why couldn’t it have been you instead?

You wouldn’t have cared. You’d have willingly taken a bullet, run through flames. Gone to hell and back.

If it just could have been you instead.

The thing you hated most about all of this was how little his death affected others.

It felt like your entire world had stopped spinning.

And people. Classmates. Your parents. 

Had the nerve. The audacity. To continue on like nothing had ever happened.

You felt like screaming. You wanted them to hurt as much as you did.

They didn’t understand. They didn’t see.

And so you sat in that car. And you would scream. And you would cry.

Eventually you worked up the strength to start cleaning it up.

You cleaned out the glass and the debris.

You replaced the windshield.

You took it to the shop got replacement parts and had the body worked on.

And each time you fixed up another little part of it.

You would talk to him.

You would talk to Billy.

You’d sit in the car and chat just like you had.

You replaced the tape deck and got new cassettes. 

When the car was driveable you started taking it out. Not on long outings.

You knew he’d kill you if you did that. 

Just enough to keep it working.

And you would drive that car to all the places he liked and the places he’d been.

No one was going to forget Billy Hargrove.

[little-peril-stories]

The Prince of Thieves: As Good as Gold, and Better: Part II

Contains: annoying children; annoying men; social pressure to kiss under the mistletoe

Previous | TPOT Masterlist | Next | Read on Ao3 instead

Word count: 4000 || Approx reading time: 17 mins

Easier to understand if you've read Are You Nobody, Too?

As Good as Gold, and Better: Part II

Teaser: I can feel a gaze burning into my back, but when I turn, Henry is distracted, talking to one of his idiot friends. Sure I’m going to find Colette watching me from over her book, I glance to the corner. It’s not a stare of deep, coffee-coloured brown that’s on me, though, but a hazel-eyed one instead.

Bree

The deal is thus: one more round of preparatory Christmas baking to keep our patrons well-fed and smiling on Christmas Day, and then I am permitted to join the hullabaloo out on the floor, where everyone is busy decorating the tree Will, Jamie, Geoff, and Allan brought inside. (Well, if the way they barrelled through the door is to be believed, the former three did the hauling of the actual tree, and Allan was the one who ended up carrying all their stuff, including Will’s coat that he oh-so-wisely doffed despite the cold wind and the snow.)

I make it out of the kitchen to see Stella loudly warning the children staying at the inn that no one is to put any candles on the tree branches, and just because the fancy trees owned by rich families and royalty bear gleaming, brightly lit flames does not mean that she has to do the same. How would we all like it, she barks, if the entire inn caught fire and we were all thrown out in the snow for our own safety in the dead of night?

Even Celeste doesn’t try to stem Stella’s tirade; none of us, as it turns out, wants to burn to death on Christmas Eve, and no one puts up a fight on the matter.

“Ah, here’s Lucy now,” Celeste says, waving me over. “These lovely little lads and lasses are going to make us some beautiful ornaments to hang upon the tree. Isn’t that right, children?” She points to the table, now strewn with all the coloured paper, scissors, needles and thread, and other decorating paraphernalia.

An excitable chorus of agreement swells around us, making me smile until Celeste finishes, “And Miss Lucy’s here to keep an eye on you and help you, all right?”

Across the room, Victoria, who’s obviously listening, presses her hand to her mouth in genuine pity as mine drops open.

“How wonderful,” I manage to say. The first barrage of little hands is already tugging at my skirt.

Celeste smiles sympathetically—not quite sympathetically enough to take over the task herself, though, of course. I suppose someone does need to ensure things are running smoothly around the inn and she is perhaps a bit old to be minding little ones…but still.

“I’ll be around if you need me,” she says, which does not offer me much comfort. “Don’t let the really young ones touch the scissors or the needles.”

“You’re responsible for wiping their tears and cleaning up the blood if you do,” Stella says, whizzing past with a broom and disappearing again.

Great.

As I’m about to let myself fall into self-pity looking at the crowd of children—every single one vying for my attention—and wonder where all their parents are, I notice that a blue-eyed gaze is watching me from across the room.

“What?” I mouth impatiently. I don’t have time for Henry’s nonsense on a good day—certainly not when I’m going to spend the next two hours stringing dried apples and popcorn into garlands, or folding paper into stars and flowers while being shrieked at by a horde of children.

Instead of trying to answer through all the chaos, he just holds something up into the air.

Oh, he’s lucky I’m not anywhere close to him right now, because I am holding a very sharp pair of scissors and he ought to be very, very grateful I can’t drive them right into his hand.

Dangling from his hand: a bouquet of greenery tied in a red ribbon. Soft green leaves, thin stalks, and brilliant, round berries as white as the snow that coats the ground outside.

“Absolutely not,” I shout across the room, forgetting myself, and he flashes me that asshole grin of his. “Get it out of here!”

Colette, who is pretending to read Dickens while she coolly observes the pandemonium from the corner where she’s sitting with the others, notices me yelling and follows my gaze to Henry Bailey and his goddamn sprigs of mistletoe. Her eyebrows move upwards.

Unfortunately, the bombardment of, “Miss Lucy! Miss Lucy!” grows to be too much then, and now I have to actually be grateful to be surrounded by all the little Christmas goblins who need to me to do everything for them, because as long as I’m being climbed on by five-year-olds, Henry can’t get anywhere near me with his stupid plant or his stupid mouth.

“All right,” I say, clapping my hands in a weak attempt to look like I know how to command the attention of children. “Shall we begin?”

I can feel a gaze burning into my back, but when I turn, Henry is distracted, talking to one of his idiot friends. Sure I’m going to find Colette watching me from over her book, I glance to the corner. It’s not a stare of deep, coffee-coloured brown that’s on me, though, but a hazel-eyed one instead.

 One kid ends up on the floor and makes me yelp when she crawls right under my skirt, between my legs, all rosy-cheeked and giggling.

“Right! No, thank you!” I tug her to her feet and catch Victoria leaning against the wall, giggling helplessly at my plight. She’s supposed to be untangling the existing garlands, I think, and she’s got part of one hanging over her shoulder, but apparently my suffering is an endless well of amusement. Maybe this was her duty last year, before I was hired, and she is sympathetic but relieved to be free of it. Maybe this is some sort of rite of passage I need to survive. Somehow.

I take the little girl by the hand and guide her to the table. “What about a star?” I ask her uncertainly. “Does that sound fun?”

She gives some sort of incoherent babbling in response and reaches for the coloured paper and a pencil. With her attention on that, I can move on to the next squealing child.

There are a few older kids, thank goodness, that I pass some of the duties to, getting them to cut paper snowflakes and stars for the younger ones while I thread needles and fold paper into roses. Well…try to.

“Hey. Let us help.”

It’s so loud in here, I almost miss it. Maybe I did miss the first few times they said it, because Colette just elbows her way in and sits down, directing Will to do the same on the other side of me.

“Let me fold,” she says, not-at-all-subtly biting back a laugh and taking my sorry attempt at paper foliage right out of my hands. “You do the other stuff.”

Well. If she wants to suffer through that, I’m not going to take the opportunity away from her. I’ll happily relinquish that responsibility.

“I can do this,” Will says, picking up one of the threaded needles. He must be able to read the question in my raised eyebrows, because he says, “Hey! It’s not that hard. And I can sew. Sort of. Now. Kind of.”

Next to me, Colette snorts.

“It’s not real sewing, anyway, though, is it?” He’s going a little red, but the look on his face is earnest.

I pluck the needle from his hand. “I think I have a better idea.”

I’ll take care of making the garlands with the “help” of some of the little ones. He can be the one to lift them up and stand them on chairs sturdily enough that they don’t fall and break their necks or knock over anything that might shatter while they add their decorations to the tree.

“Brave,” Colette murmurs once we’ve set him doing that, “but pretty smart.”

“Brave?” I repeat, wincing. How is this needle so dull? This is the eighth time I’ve accidentally stabbed myself trying to string popcorn.

She nods toward Will. “Well, smart to have him do that so you don’t have to do all the heavy lifting.”

She grins conspiratorially, and I can’t help but match it. “Was it that obvious?”

“No. I just know you’re clever. Like me.” She laughs. “And brave to trust him with—well, with anything.”

My answer slips out so fast, I’ve said it before I’ve even thought it through. The words just fall out. “Of course I trust him. I trust him with my—”

The needle bites into my finger again, and I stop, hissing and checking for blood.

Still smiling, she concentrates on her folding and twisting and doesn’t give an answer.

For a few minutes, anyway.

“And Goldilocks?” She nods across the room, and I peer out through the chaos, trying to find who she means. “You trust him?”

It takes me a moment to realize who she’s talking about: a grinning, loud-mouthed figure who’s got Stella’s glare on him as well as mine and Colette’s.

Goldilocks. She’s calling Henry Goldilocks. I almost fall off my chair, giggling and silently resolving to bring the name into our next practice session to see what he says.

“Oh, he’s harmless,” I tell her when I can speak again. “I mean, he’s shameless. A ridiculous flirt.”

“You don’t say,” she says drily.

I bite my lip. Sounds like he’s tried at least a little to get her attention, too, albeit unsuccessfully. “Yeah. He’s an idiot. But he knows it, at least. And he’s all right when you get to know him. Just…irritating.”

“Are you actually friends with him?” she asks, incredulous.

“I suppose so,” I say, thinking of a bruise I’ve got on my hip from our last morning session that I still need to pay him back for.

“So you trust him, too.”

Trust him? I must, considering all the times I’ve put my bodily well-being in his hands. “Well, I suppose I trust him enough.” I shoot a dirty look his way, though, at the reminder of what new instrument of annoyance he’s brought into the inn. “I wasn’t expecting the mistletoe, though.”

“Want me to set him straight for you?”

A funny thing happens deep behind my ribcage at her words. “No…no, I can handle him. I promise.” At this, I almost want to cry, although I expect it would look strange to see me weeping into a bowl of dried oranges and popcorn just because she offered to get Henry to lay off and quit bothering me. Because maybe Colette, even just a bit, sort of cares. “But I appreciate it. Really.”

“Just say the word,” she says, leaning over a paper carnation. “He looks like he’d be fun to smack around if he stepped out of line.”

“He is,” I joke back without thinking.

Colette’s head snaps back up.

“I mean…” Shit. “You know. Telling him to back off. And stuff.”

I don’t know why I’m keeping the lessons a secret from her. I’m pretty sure she knows how to fight. She probably wouldn’t think it strange. But I find my gaze pulled to another figure in the room, all freckles and flailing elbows and big grins, and I have to wonder what he’d think if she went and told him. Not that it matters, of course. It doesn’t. But still. I wonder. Just a little.

Colette gives me a look that says she knows very well what it looks like when people are keeping secrets, but she doesn’t press the matter.

After a cursory look at the little ones to make sure no one has a sharp tool who shouldn’t have one, and no one’s crying, fighting, or making more of a mess than expected, I put my attention back on Will. I didn’t really know what I was doing when I told him to help the children put their ornaments on the tree, but he’s doing a splendid job, so much that I almost want to let my hands fall still so I can keep watching him. He’s got this great silly smile on his face every time he kneels down to talk to one of them, and even though they’re so much smaller, none of them seem the slightest bit frightened. One of the little girls—of course, it’s the one with personal space issues, the one who crawled under my legs earlier—even leaps into his arms out of sheer excitement to put her messily drawn star as high upon the tree as she can reach.

As she stretches her arm and hangs it near the top, Will looks over here too, and I’m caught staring.

Stupidly, I wave at him, not sure what else to do since it’s too late to look away, and he grins, holding my gaze with those sparkling eyes for a few extra moments before he has to bring the girl back down to the ground.

“You all right?” Colette asks lightly, and I realize one of my hands has come to rest over my heart, which is pounding in a most unseemly and ridiculous way.

“Yes,” I say quickly, reaching for another slice of dried orange. “I’m just getting tired. It’s been a busy day.”

She gives me that look again.

“I didn’t know Will liked kids,” I say.

She glances over at him, a little smile on her lips. “Why wouldn’t he? He’s nothing but a big kid himself.”

And to be fair, he seems to be having the time of his life, bouncing around and making them “fly” a little when they ask for it and laughing at the same silly things they all find amusing. “I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right,” she says, and she winks.

I don’t expect there will be any Christmas gifts under that tree for me tomorrow, but, even so, it sure feels like I’ve got something else, something that can’t be wrapped up in a box and ribbon. Something I didn’t have before.

And like mulled wine, warm and comforting and steeped in spices that taste like home, gratitude spills over me—for smiles and company and maybe, just maybe, newly forged friendship.

***

The other three have been hiding out in the corner for through most of the decorating, but when it comes time to crown the tree with the star, Stella takes one look around the room and lands a stare on Geoff. “You. Get over here.”

There’s only a split second of him staring back at her in surprise, and then, at the sound of Colette bursting into laughter, and at the unbudging resolution in Stella’s voice, he rises and crosses the room.

“Wow,” says one of the children, practically bug-eyed. “He’s tall.”

“I know,” Celeste says with a laugh. “That’s why we need him.”

The little girl from before, who seems to have finally found her harried-looking mother, bursts away and darts toward Geoff. “Can I do it? Please? Please? Please?”

Geoff stands helplessly, clearly not knowing what to do while she dances around him, pleading to be the one to put the star on the top of the tree. A glance at Will shows that he’s almost toppled to the floor, shaking with silent laughter, and another at Jamie shows that he has his arms crossed and is merely watching with a smile. He doesn’t notice me staring, but gives Geoff an encouraging nod.

“That okay?” Geoff asks the girl’s mother, voice low but uncertain, almost nervous.

She looks him up and down, obviously wary of his gruffness and his ridiculous height, but the daughter is clinging to his hands now, jumping up and down, and the mother has no choice but to say, “Well, all right then. If you’ll—um—if you’ll be careful.”

The girl squeals with delight as Celeste hands her the star and Geoff lifts her into the air, no step-ladder needed.

“Perfect,” Celeste says when the star is glinting atop the tree, and after Geoff has taken a moment to straighten it from the slightly drunken posture it was left in by the girl. Even Stella looks genuinely happy. She doesn’t bat Celeste’s hands away when they come to rest upon her—one on her shoulder, the other with fingers entwined with hers.

I peek back at the others, curious to see their reactions to the loveliness of the tree they chose, adorned and glittering. Will’s grinning, although for some reason he glances a few times at the clock; Jamie looks content; Allan is distracted by tending to someone’s kid who got a pine needle stick under his fingernail; Geoff is trying to slink back to Jamie’s side without being noticed; and Colette’s given up her reading ruse entirely, now openly watching Stella and Celeste with undisguised interest. It’s clear from how she’s always watching everything that goes on around here that her old habits from being IA’s information-gatherer are taking their sweet time to fade away.

“Hey, Miss Lucy.”

And, of course, now there’s this voice interrupting my thoughts.

“Yes, Mr. Bailey? What can I do for you?” Turning around brings me face to face with his red waistcoat, and I tilt my head up to frown at him, suspicious. “Where is it?”

“Where’s what?” he asked, all innocence.

“You know what.” I cross my arms. “Your damn mistletoe.”

“What damn mistletoe?”

“Henry.”

He flashes me that stupid, stupid grin. “You mean this?”

All around us, the older kids burst into cries, giggles, and oohs when he pulls it from behind his back and dangles it over my head. The younger ones don’t seem to know what it means, but buoyed by the infuriating enthusiasm of their older siblings, they join in on the excited squalling.

“We had a deal,” I say, trying to keep smiling for the sake of these goddamn children and no one else.

“Ah, yeah. We did. I recall.” But he’s still smirking. “This, though. It’s a Christmas tradition! Nothing more. And you don’t want to spit in the face of tradition, do you?”

“I hate you,” I say through gritted teeth.

He laughs, damn him. “No, you don’t.”

The kids are all shrieking now, like they’ve never seen mistletoe before, which cannot possibly be true. With my face burning, I step a little closer, aiming for his foot with mine. He dodges at the last second.

“You gotta try a little harder than that,” he says with a wink.

“Is that a challenge?”

I can’t control the way my eyes peer back, just for a second. It’s Colette who catches my eye; she has somehow commandeered Geoff away from Jamie, but she’s not looking at him while she talks. Like everyone else in this stupid inn, she’s watching Henry taunt me with those stupid fucking berries over my head.

With a sigh, I step forward and plant the most chaste kiss I can possibly manage on Henry’s cheek, this time landing a stomp on his toes.

“I’m going to make you pay for this,” I hiss in his ear.

Even though I’m sure his foot hurts, his eyes are still sparkling. “Darling, I’m counting on it.”

No one notices me trampling his toes or whispering threats, of course; the kids are all too busy losing their minds, along with someone else. Throwing his head back, laughing his ass off, Henry lets out a victorious whoop, then kisses me in matching chasteness on my cheek, and it’s only because he doesn’t try to steal a real kiss that I don’t sock him right in the stomach and show off all he’s taught me in front of everyone.

My heart’s pounding, I realize when he pulls away, but it has nothing to do with Henry’s lips against my cheek.

Victoria, looking sulkier than she did before, tries to nudge through the crowd, and I grab her hand. “Hey! Look!” I cry dramatically. “Mistletoe!”

And I switch places with her, so she’s now standing with Henry instead of me, and she’s giving me a look of pure joy, all sullenness instantly banished, and Henry’s rolling his eyes but also seeming to say, Well, may as well, and he kisses her, too, making her squeal and eliciting a round of cheers from his friends.

“Merry Christmas, you annoying bastard,” I say, quietly enough that no one can hear me—it wouldn’t do to scandalize the children, after all—but maybe, with any luck, he’ll read my lips and get the hint.

I glance at the corner, where Colette is clutching Geoff’s arm and suppressing a laugh with her lips squeezed together. Jamie’s stone faced. Allan looks confused.

Will is gone.

***

I don’t think my feet have ever hurt so much. This is the thought that keeps repeating in my head as I stumble upstairs to mine and Victoria’s room. Actually, it’s just my room tonight, because after she finished work, she departed to spend the night with her family so she can wake up with them on Christmas morning. I asked her once why she lives here with Stella and Celeste if her family’s not that far away, and she just said they lived too far out of town that the journey every day wouldn’t have been worthwhile. I figured I’d just take her word for it, but if I had a choice between living with Stella and not, well…

I’m almost up the stairs when a familiar voice breaks through the quiet.

“Will, are you even listening?”

Seems that when he disappeared earlier, he just came straight back up here.

“Mmm hmm,” he responds, or that’s what it sounds like, anyway. It’s quiet, almost inaudible, and unmistakably the voice of a man who is not listening at all.

Another voice. Jamie’s. Faintly concerned and quieter than Colette’s. “I guess none of us are getting any sleep tonight, huh?”

“You can do whatever you want,” Will mumbles back. “It’s not finished.”

“Looks finished.” That one’s Geoff, all rumble and thinly disguised amusement.

“Well, it’s not.”

Eavesdropping is wrong, but my curiosity burns a little. Well, a lot. Not finished what? Is “it” the reason he ran off, away from the mistletoe and the tree and the Henry Bailey debacle? Did he even see any of that?

Not that I care, of course.

“I still think you should listen,” says Colette. “I’m going to keep going now.”

“Okay,” he grumbles. “Hurry up, then.”

A soft grunt and the faintest thud make me wonder if she didn’t throw a pillow right at his head.

“‘And yet I should have dearly liked, I own,’” Colette reads after Will’s cursing has died down, “‘to have touched her lips; to have questioned her, that she might have opened them; to have looked upon the lashes of her downcast eyes, and never raised a blush; to have let loose waves of hair, an inch of which would be a keepsake beyond price: in short, I should have liked, I do confess, to have had the lightest licence of a child, and yet to have been man enough to know its value.’”

There’s a moment of silence as she pauses, a silence that seems to contain every possible emotion, breathless and urgent, as it rolls through the air.

Then…

“You’re a goddamn busybody, Colette.” It’s not Will who tells her off, even though he was the one whose attention was being requested; it’s Jamie. “I know what you’re—”

But someone’s laughing—no, more than one person. At least two. Colette, for sure, and if my ears don’t deceive me, Geoff.

“What are you so worked up about? I’m just reading. It’s right here! Look.” I can only assume she’s pointing to her page. “He didn’t hear a damn word, anyway.”

And it certainly seems like it; there’s not even a hint of a reaction from Will, except for, “The hell is so funny?”

“If it’s worth anything,” Allan’s voice says, “I’m not sure I’m comprehending, either.”

Colette says, “Oh, you’re both hopeless. Never let it be said that I didn’t at least try,” and then she’s back to reading A Christmas Carol and there’s nothing interesting left to listen in on except for Dickens’ beautiful prose.

I back away from their door, guilt already swarming all over me about the eavesdropping but warring with the strangest feeling, fuzzy and muddled to say the least, that there were two people meant to hear that passage, and while one of them did not, the other, quite possibly, heard it loud and clear as the tolling bells of midnight, heralding the arrival of Christmas Day.

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[c-rose2081]

I dunno, I didn’t feel like Barbie was very politically charged or heavy handed with its messaging. For me it was very very satire, very much an over exaggerated portrayal of things. Of course I liked it but I genuinely don’t know where everyone is pulling all these politics and ‘heavy handed giant feminists’ things from. (And this coming from me, who makes up deep meanings for ZOMBIES).

In my opinion, it was more camp than anything else. I even saw it twice cuz I thought I missed something but nope, still camp. Teared up once (Bc you know there’s a whole part about being human, but it doesn’t last long enough to make me cry for real).

I only got an icky feeling once form the messaging (of course, Ken related) but overall it was a fun movie that made me appreciate being alive a little bit more.

In my opinion.

I’m not even all that worried about the messaging being ‘to deep’, I know it can’t be anything worse than La La Land was. And I will absolutely see Barbie when I’m ready; I’m sure its amazing. But I just can’t grapple with anything deeper than a Disney movie right now XD I literally cannot handle even a hint of existential dread or I’ll fall apart. It’s 100% a personal battle I’m dealing with right now.

I’m also someone who tends to overthink literally everything. So until I’m in a safe and comfortable place where I can really take in this movie for myself and decide if all this ‘messaging’ people are seeing is true, I’ll be waiting it out till the hype dies down :)

I know it’s good. I know it’s probably not what people say it is. But I’m hanging by a thread here; I just cannot take the stress lol

[whimsicaldragonette]

ARC Review: Painted Devils by Margaret Owen

Preorder Add to Goodreads

Publication Date: May 16, 2023

Synopsis:

Let’s get one thing straight—Vanja Schmidt wasn’t trying to start a cult. After taking down a corrupt margrave, breaking a deadly curse, and finding romance with the vexingly scrupulous Junior Prefect Emeric Conrad, Vanja had one great mystery left: her long-lost birth family… and if they would welcome a thief. But in her search for an honest trade, she hit trouble and invented a god, the Scarlet Maiden, to scam her way out. Now, that lie is growing out of control—especially when Emeric arrives to investigate, and the Scarlet Maiden manifests to claim him as a virgin sacrifice. For his final test to become a prefect, Emeric must determine if Vanja is guilty of serious fraud, or if the Scarlet Maiden—and her claim to him—are genuine. Meanwhile, Vanja is chasing an alternative sacrifice that may be their way out. The hunt leads her not only into the lairs of monsters and the paths of gods, but the ties of her past. And with what should be the simplest way to save Emeric hanging over their heads, he and Vanja must face a more dangerous question: Is there a future for a thief and a prefect, and at what price?

My Rating: ★★★★★

*My Review and Favorite Quotes below the cut.

My Review:

Here we have Vanja being Vanja (ie self-destructive and also accidentally starting a cult because of course she does) and then in comes Emeric being Emeric (annoyed and exasperated at Vanja and said accidental cult) and then things really start to happen.

The writing is just as gorgeous and funny and dark as in the first book. I love it so much!

The story is so compelling, as are the characters. As the threads of story slowly wove together, I remained in awe of Margaret Owen's plotting skills and ability to misdirect. The story is SO beautiful and SO sad. I actually had to stop reading, near the end, because my eyes were so full of tears I couldn't see the words and I had to take a moment and wipe them until I could see again. That doesn't happen often.

I love Vanja and Emeric even more now, and I absolutely cannot wait for the next one.

The twist of who, exactly, the Scarlet Maiden is was brilliantly foreshadowed in a way that made it seem like it came out of nowhere with a gut punch. The identity of the various people Vanja encounters was hidden in plain sight. Everything was constructed so perfectly.

And poor Vanja and Emeric. That ending broke my heart and I did cry. I can't wait for the next book to find out how they fix things. Because they have to fix things. Right?

Margaret Owen has cemented her place as a forever auto-buy author for me and one whose arcs I will absolutely fight for.

*Thanks to NetGalley and Macmillan Children's - Henry Holt & Co. for providing an early copy for review.

Favorite Quotes:

She cried like a routed general. She cried like a jilted bride. She cried like a two-year-old who has been told they cannot eat rocks.

---

But you know that feeling? The one where your entire brain melts out through your earholes because your head is on fire, and the rest of your body overcompensates by freezing on the spot, and the only thing left in your skull is a ghost marching in a circle and banging two pots together? That’s about where I’m at.

---

Kirkling’s charcoal stick dangles like a dagger over the throat of her page.

---

I wonder if Kirkling knows exactly what manner of pedantic, punctilious annotated-within-an-inch-if-its-life beast she’s just unleashed. I know without a doubt that she is about to learn.

---

You deserve so much more than the least terrible of your choices.

---

“What did you want to speak to the boy about?” Udo asks in the tonal equivalent of a TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT sign

---

“Yes, Proctor Kirkling,” Emeric says with a forced sort of tranquility, as if the prospect of a daily quiz isn’t the greatest thing that’s happened to him since the invention of the T-square.

---

Four days later, our carriage rolls into Danwik, a town beautiful in a way reserved explicitly for things built on spite.

---

Our eyes meet. In that moment, an unspoken ironclad alliance is forged, and I know we are a united front with the sole objective of haranguing Emeric.

---

“Hence why I was also the first person to teach this lout how to throw a proper punch.” “Which was great,” Emeric says darkly, “until I got stabbed.” Vikram rolls his eyes. “What eleven-year-old hasn’t been stabbed, honestly.”

---

Little thieves tell themselves they take what they need to survive, and sometimes that’s true, and sometimes it’s a lie. Great thieves don’t fool themselves about their motives; they take things because they want them, end of story. The only lie they tell themselves is that there’s no difference between wanting something and deserving it.

---

For most of my life, I’ve held to a theory I call the trinity of want. It states that people are desired for three reasons: power, pleasure, or profit. If you provide three of those, others serve you. Provide two, they see you. One, they use you.

---

Years of pain had smelted her down to a knife, and only now was she relearning to touch others without drawing blood.

---

There’s a thoracic little death-rattle behind me. I’m pretty sure it’s the sound of Emeric’s world crumbling at the fact that he’s pissed off the saint of libraries.

---

“I mean, ‘I summon the powers of the gods through the stars’ is pretty impressive on its own.”

---

I’m starting to suspect Kirkling is one of those people who strongly commits to being a pain in the ass on a day-to-day basis, only to metamorphose into a decent and competent person in a crisis.