#if only I could think about the show I might be able to scrape up a morsel of happiness

[mommy-mortis]

The sway of the willow tree

Summary: You tell Remmick you're getting married to someone else.

The cold air caressed your nipples as you bounced up and down on his lap, you were trying not to make too much noise just in case someone back home noticed you missing from your bed; they couldn't have you sneaking out at night especially on the night before your wedding.

In the eyes of your parents you had already passed good marrying age so the offer of marriage from one of the sharecroppers east of y'all seemed like a gift from god.

Sweat dripped down your chin to your neck and continued on downward; A tongue cold as lake water on a late night in November licks at the drops that fall between your breast making you shiver.

You couldn't really blame your parents, it was hard enough feeding your siblings; they shouldn't have to feed a grown women with no skills and no ambition to use them if she did.

You'd always been one to focus on the clouds in the sky or the frogs’ melodies at night, singing right back to them when a nice thick fog would cover the lake like icing on a cake; and that's how you got in the mess you're in now.

Sensing that you might not be completely where he wanted you to be, Remmick lightly scrapes at your breast with his claws. He had told you his name was Remmick when you first met, it was on a night where the fog had been it's thickest. You had snuck outside like you usually do, sitting on the edge of the lake humming songs for the frogs.

When he had first showed up covered in what looked to be blood you guessed he expected you to run, but when you hadn't he began to wash the blood off of himself in the lake right next to you. Anyone else would have run and you knew that you should, but you just figured that if he wanted to kill you there was nothing you could do about it, and you weren't going to go getting out of breath just to end up dying. If you were to die it would be here amongst the swaying willow trees.

He had started by complimenting your voice then ended talking with you for hours, until you had felt sleep overtake you. You felt bad for falling asleep on him, but he must have not felt too tight about it; you woke up on your porch and was able to sneak back in before anyone knew better, but from then on you made sure to be more careful.

It had started off as a nice enough friendship, you'd sneak out and he'd show up by the willow trees, It hadn't taken long before your friendship turned intimate. He had complimented you until your head spun and you ended up under him. He looked surprised when he found out he was your first, but you just told him “Remmick, you’re the only man I want to talk to”.

After that he seemed to become more possessive over you, becoming irritated when you wouldn't come out to see him; he would stand outside your window until you’d grow worried that someone would see him and sneak out to meet him.

Remmick was now drawing out a thin line of blood; it doesn't hurt too bad, but fuck if it snaps your attention back to him. You look down at him as you ride, the orgasm you’re chasing is almost in your reach, then he runs his tongue up and down the line he created, licking up the blood that had began to run downwards. Finally popping your nipple in his mouth giving it a nice suck. You had been on the edge before but now you were falling; feeling you clenching around him, his balls grow tight releasing in you as he urges you to continue.

Moaning out your name you watch as his eyes roll back, you watch as his tongue sticks out, you can see your blood laid on his tongue and can't help yourself from kissing him brushing your tongue against his and tasting the copper that was you.

"I love you" he says holding you tight. You grow rigid at his sudden confession; you were good friends and even though sex had been added to it you didn't think he would actually fall in love with you.

You stand up and let him fall out of you, he looks up at you confused about why you hadn’t returned his sentiments.

"Remmick, we need to talk" still confused he can't understand why all of a sudden you've gotten serious.

"I'm getting married tomorrow" his eyebrows slightly furrow he gives you a light chuckle as if you'd told him a joke he couldn't quite figure out.

"Now, just what are you saying my love?" standing up from the ground he tucks himself away.

"I'll be getting married tomorrow evening at the church up the hill" you point to a building far off into the distance but close enough not to squint.

His mouth hangs open with shock.

"I'll be marring a sharecropper east from here and leaving the same night so this will be the last night we see each other".

He looks stuck for a second trying to process what you’re saying to him, he runs his fingers over his lips "Runawaywithme" the words rush out of him so quickly you have to ask him to repeat himself.

"Let's runaway together, I'll take care of you and we can be together and get-" you stop him in his tracks, you both come from different worlds in more than one way. That was made clear by the way his eyes shined inhuman like, and you didn't care about all that; but what would the world say, what would your Mother say?

You couldn't lie you loved him too, but what about your family, the embarrassment of having their daughter disappear with some white devil on the eve of her wedding.

If it was just you, you'd run right to him, but it wasn't just your marriage you had to worry about, it was the future marriages of your siblings; things like shame were hard to wash off a name; so no you couldn't go with him.

"I wish things were different, but this is something I have to do, his name is Noah Oakley. I hear he's a good man, so don't go worrying about me too much". You turn to leave but look back at him, you couldn't just leave without telling him how you felt. You grab his hands pale as the moon and give him a kiss on the cheek, "I love you too Remmick, I think I will for a long time." Making your way back home you try to stop the tears from falling only looking back once to see him still standing there underneath the willow tree.

The wedding had been planned for the evening since it would take him some time to get to the church after working on the fields; that was fine since you still had to get up early and finish your chores too.

Your ma and pop had been so happy at the prospect of your marriage and while looking at you in your wedding dress they seem even prouder.

What you were wearing was nothing too special, just an off white dress that your mother had tailored from some nice enough scraps of fabric, but you could tell she put her all in it, and that made it the most beautiful dress ever made in your eyes. You didn't have a veil so your head was graced with beautiful white flowers made from the left over fabric. You had never felt vain a day in your life, but today you did feel beautiful.

Then the time began to pass and you felt less so.

Noah was supposed to have arrived hours ago, you knew that he lived a whiles away, but he was supposed to arrive in the afternoon and the sun was already close to setting. You didn't care if he stood you up, but the thought that he had hurt your family made you want to cry; sensing your discomfort your mother laid a hand over your shoulder. "These things happen, all we can hope is tha-" before she could finish her sentence a messenger boy ran into the church where you’d been standing for so very long to deliver a message.

Your groom had gotten into an accident, but was okay and would be on his way soon so be ready.

Your mother jumped to action discarding what she was about to say in favor of fetching the pastor who had decided to take a nap instead of 'Waiting for a groom that got cold feet'.

After getting everyone she could to come back she had you stand back at the alter, you were so nervous you kept your head down and prayed.

You prayed that Noah was as kind as they said he was, prayed that you could give him a couple of children so he wouldn't find too much fault in you, and you prayed that you could forget Remmick.

"Here's the groom, well don't just stand there come on in son" The pastors voice joyfully boomed through out the church

"I hope you don't mind I brought a friend", sounding less sure but not wanting to waste time the Pastor waved them forward. "Well...It's your wedding, I can't tell you who to invite now come on in both of you, your beautiful bride has been waiting on you."

He gave off a light chuckle "I'm sure shes been waiting a mighty long time, just not for me."

The sound of confusion rang throughout the church, and as the sound of foot steps got closer you kept your head down, just like your ma had told you until the feeling of Ice cold hands softly grasp yours "I'm sorry, I'm late" you knew that voice.

You look at the hands holding yours; they were as pale as the moon. You don't pull away but instead slowly look up; there he was dressed in what seemed to be an ill fitting suit with a blood stain hidden just behind the pockets. Behind him stands a man who you assume is Noah, he gives you a small wave when he sees you staring at him. The Pastor must have bad eyesight, you don't know how he could have missed the dried blood on Noah's collar.

"Remmick, what have you done?" your voice comes out shaker than you want it to cause you know what he’s done, just like when you had first met.

Ignoring your question he smiles, running a finger down the back of your neck "Oh, my love you look even more beautiful than when I found you underneath the willow tree" he lays his hand on your hip and you hate how natural it feels.

Your father was not amused at what he's witnessing, yelling out "What the hell is going on?" pointing to Remmick's hands on your body.

"Darlin' do you want to tell them or should I?" his smile looks malicious, was this punishment for turning down his proposition? "Tell them how you'd sneak out the house at night in nothing but cotton to meet me under the willow tree, and how we'd talk for hours then make love under the pale moon unti-"

"Remmick!" you hiss out his name placing both your hands on his mouth, you beg him to stop "It's my wedding day."

Slowly removing your hands and intertwining your fingers he nods at you, "Aye, that it is, and yer groom has come to take you away".

You're mother cries out, her words finally finding her "Did you lay with the devil?" her voice shaking harder than her hands.

Tears form in the corners of your eyes, your voice breaks unable to hide your shame "I'm sorry Mama.." you watch as she faints, your father grabbing her before she can hit the floor.

"Child, What have you done" tears fill his eyes as he turns away from you, he couldn't bear to look at you.

Waving them away "Ah well, don't mind them My love" he says smiling while turning your face towards his "All you have to worry about is being beside me for all eternity", he brings your hands to his mouth and gives them a kiss "Now my darlin’ shall we get this show on the road?"

The Pastor should have denied Remmick, refusing to go through with the unholy matrimony, never wavering in the face of evil, but instead Remmick had barely had to raise a finger before he was spewing out Ruth 1:16.

So say the bible "Do not urge me to leave you or to return from following you. For where you go I will go, and where you lodge I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God my God."

The Pastor looks towards Remmick hands shaking in fear, "Will you have this woman as your lawfully wedded wife, to live together in the covenant of matrimony? Will you love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, keep you only unto her, for the rest of your life?

Remmick looked at you like you held the moon at your finger tips "I do."

“Will you have this man as your lawfully wedded husband, to live together in the covenant of matrimony? Will you love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, keep you only unto him, for the rest of your life?”

You pause wondering how a man of god could just go along with all this. Not liking how long you were taking to respond, Remmick caresses your hands "Baby you should hurry up and answer the man, I'm getting a little hungry and I would hate to get my clothes wet with everyone’s blood".

You hear audible gasps behind you, you look Remmick deep in the eyes, eyes that tell you to choose your next words wisely cus he wasn't playing.

"I do."

You can hear the Pastor exhaling in relief "I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss the bride" not waiting for you to finish your kiss the Pastor leaves out the back door in a hurry. 'Coward' you think to yourself.

Remmick draws you in close, his lips press against yours so desperately you can barely breathe.

Stepping back to get one good look at you, he picks you up carrying you out the door; you can hear your mother's wails as Noah trails behind y'all. Noah drives y'all to the willow tree where you and Remmick first met. Remmick has Noah park the car a ways away so you can have some privacy.

Falling to your knees in front of the willow tree you let yourself cry. Remmick comes to comfort you but you brush him off. "How could you do this Remmick?" kneeling in front of you he begins to kiss the tears off your face.

"I know, I know I'm selfish" He continues to kiss you on your neck "Please forgive me baby" he lightly scrapes your breast with his teeth drawing small drips of blood to lick up. Instead of moaning his name you bite your tongue, looking away from him in indifference.

"Oh baby don't ignore me" he tries to make you look at him but you pull away, he huffs in frustration placing you on your back he hovers over you, trying to kiss as much of your skin as he can uncover.

"Darlin please" he wines while moving his hands up your dress, you can feel him removing your panties giving them a deep sniff before placing them in his pocket. You can't see very well in the dark, but can feel the length in his pants harden as he kisses you from your neck and down your body, "Baby, I had to" You still refuse to answer him.

He lifts your dress up all the way leaving you bare for all the world to see; he opens your legs and lays between your thighs giving the outside of your pussy little licks and kisses "Forgive me" he says a he spreads your lips like honey on toast. He lifts his head to apologize again, but you press his face back into your wetness, not wanting to hear his apologies anymore.

Not when you knew he didn't mean it. He was happy to steal you away, and he would have done it months ago if he thought you were leaving anytime soon. The feeling of his tongue showing devotion to your body, brings you so close you can't help the next words that escape your mouth "I hate you".

As if his tongue has been scolded he quickly removes his mouth from your cunt, moving between your thighs hurt and anger radiates off his body. "You hate me?" he says while unzipping his pants, pulling them down enough for his dick to spring out of them "Answer me" he hisses. Not waiting for a reply, he lifts your legs over his shoulder and plows into you "Huh!?" he growls moaning out your name.

"Yes I hate you" your hands twist the layers of his stolen clothing "I hate you, I hate you". It becomes harder to lie the closer you get, finally you feel yourself dangling over the edge of a cliff, truth falling from your lips; "Ah! fuck Remmick I love you, I've loved you for a long time and I'll love for a long time still." You shiver as you come all over his dick. Feeling him pulse inside you he wasn’t far behind; slamming deep inside you he buries his head in the crook of your neck as he empties his balls inside you. You expect him to bite you, but he just leaves wet kisses down your neck. "Not yet" he says sensing your anticipation.

Noah drives you both back to your home. Parking close enough, he and Remmick wait in the car. You walk in the house, taking a look around. This would be your last time here, you visit the rooms of your siblings; they had stayed back, too young to stay up. You kiss them on the top of their crowns saying goodbye, you prayed for their sakes you'd never meet again.

You gather your things; a few articles of clothing and a picture of your family, and step out the house. You find your mother and father walking back towards the house; they walk past you and you almost let them, but you can't just let go without saying goodbye. "I love you" you yell out watching as they stop in their tracks "If someone comes back with my face know that ain't your little girl anymore, don't let her in". You didn't know how Remmick's bite would change you, but you knew the last thing you wanted to do was hurt them.

Your father can't bring himself to say anything but your mother stops and turns around just staring at you griping the front of her collar "I love you" she yells back "So im’ma tell you to be happy, never come back home... but please be happy".

You nod and turn away making your way back to the car. You see Remmick smiling at you; you don't look back, you can't, but instead whisper under your breath.

"Do not urge me to leave you or to return from following you. For where you go I will go, and where you lodge I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God my God."

[munipe]

hi!! could you write something about first kiss with saiki? and btw i love your writing okay bye🫶

How to have your first kiss! (A foolproof plan)

Waiter waiter! More clueless kusuo! I was challenging myself to finish this before my phone died (Began with ten percent)

Against all odds, Kusuo Saiki, token Psychic of PK academy, has obtained a partner—a romantic partner.

Shocker.

It was by pure odd and chance. One might even say luck on your part. But now, he was kinda outta luck. He was no fool, he could read your thoughts. It would only take so long until you would wonder why he wouldn’t initiate affection with you.

He, honestly, genuinely, and frankly just didn’t know how to.

It felt too sudden, then too cheesy. Too public and then too private. Too forced and then too casual. It’s not like he doesn’t want to kiss you, but it’s just out of his knowledge. He figures a lot of people dream for an ideal first kiss—would it be mean if he just only gave you a peck? Truthfully, he didn’t know, he was just a teenage boy at the end of the day.

So he devised a plan.

Get the setting right

Kusuo thinks you’re a miracle, sent from an angel that pitied him and used its last feather on its wings to give him a blessing. In the midst of his park (coffee jelly) date with you, Yuta had unfortunately appeared.

A bummer, there was barely anyone around, he was sure he’d be able to finesse a kiss. No matter about the first crinkle in the plan…he just needs the kid to leave.

Which was clearly impossible—something above was conspiring against him, it seemed. The devil works hard, but your love worked harder.

He watches in his solitude as you chase Yuta around the playground playing tag. You give slack, giving the boy a sense of accomplishment. You two tire rather quickly, leading Yuta to scrape his knee in a dramatic sense

2. Impromptu #2: admire you as you work magic

He wasn’t particularly sure how you managed to comfort a crying child. He figured maybe it was how tenderly you bounced Yuta on your hip, or maybe your gentle coo’s to the boy—as if he wasn’t old enough to brush it off. Nevertheless, Kusuo couldn’t blame the boy for wanting to prolong his time in your comfort— coming constantly as the sheep flying over a sleeping baby’s cradle.

Maybe it was your gentle pout at the boy. Maybe it was the tenderness that your hands held the (dramatic boy). Kusuo couldn’t keep his eyes off you. Maybe it was pity for you having to deal with a child? No, it was your gentle face. The one you always gave him when you realized his irritation whenever his senses overwhelmed him at times. It was the one you dealt whenever he instinctively teleported to where you were when he saw a cockroach under the trashcan.

Kusuo was doomed.

3. Back on track: begin affection

He had convinced you both to sit back down, leaving Yuta to his own devices. He couldn’t be bothered to let the boy interfere with his plans—he mentally said today, so today it was. How would he start? You were on your phone next to him—silent relaxation next to each other was mandatory with each date.

Could he wrap an arm around your shoulder? No, that’s too obvious and cheesy. Lay his head on your shoulder? No. his antennas would get in the way. Why does love have to have nuance! As he stares hard at you, your eyes gently glance at him. He stared at you as if you held the secrets to the world, the good, the bad and, the ugly (he figured the secrets lived in your love). With a quick type up of your phone, you show him your notes app: You okay?

He figured you were far too lazy to speak—which was weird, but he loved you, nonetheless.

He nodded, and scooted closer, pressing your shoulders together. You offered your pinky to his, which he interlocked with his own. Success.

4. Go on and kiss the girl (sha-la-la-la) [get the little mermaid ref please]

It was near sunset, Yuta was deep in a nap on your right side of your waist, and you were sure you have been interlocking pinkies with Kusuo for near half an hour.

He couldn’t interlace your fingers. He was scared he’d hold onto you too tight and you’d go kablooey. He couldn’t say that though, along with the fact his palms were already slathered in sweat. He knew that it was silly, holding his phone in his left hand, hiding a message from you—that he typed: Is yuta asleep?

He knew that the boy was, but the reassurance was helpful, he didn’t want to scar the boy with two teenagers kissing. So he sat dumbly for a while, gripping onto your pinky with his.

“Any more holding onto my pinky and you’ll lift me up,” you murmured in jest. Though he knew that was, unfortunately, a large possibility. His clammy hands didn’t let yours go—it was like his pinky got trigger finger around yours. He was sure once he tried to relax it, it’d make a large pop.

Of course, you were no idiot. With gentle mumbles of his name in hopes to relieve any sensations and sensitivities, you resorted to your last weapon: Affection. With a gentle sigh, your gentle lips grazed his pinky hair.

“Sai?”

He was a goner. He decompressed and nudged his head back up into your lips. He got a lick of love, and suddenly he needed to lap the cup of affection you so graciously served him until his heart was glutted with your gentle kisses. Oh how delicious your gentle kiss was—oh how wrong he was for judging those who chased affection.

With a smile, you pressed more kisses to his hair, then he tilted his head to the side so you’d press some to his cheek. Then to his forehead, and then to his nose. He needed your affection sprinkled on him like he was confectionery. As teenagers do, his neck fumbles in the chase of affection, leading a gentle ghost of your lips on his.

He thinks it was like instinct, how his latched onto yours like magnets. It was tentative—testing the waters at first. Then yours reciprocated, and suddenly it was like doves in the wind. Suddenly, maybe, the world was sunshine, rainbows, and unicorns.

Success?

IM ON TWO PERCENT

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

would love to request a "friends to lovers" story between Hiccup and the reader.

They could have been friends since childhood, but I’m not sure what you think about the idea where, as they grow up, it becomes completely normal for them to hold hands or even share more intimate moments, like a kiss. (Don’t let it show how much I love this dynamic).

I’d love to see how you would develop this story (only if you feel like it, of course). I seriously ADORE your writing! Blessings and kisses, MUAK! ❤💗

One of These Days

Pairing: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Fem!Reader

Words: 3,740

You didn’t know when it started; maybe it had been when he’d smiled at you for the first time, or he’d held your hand, or leaned his head over yours. 

Tags:  httyd 1, httyd 2, friends to lovers

It was growing darker outside. 

Frigid air licked at the frame of your back, slithering and scraping past cracks in the walls and shutters. It tasted just as cool as it smelt.

You didn’t know when it started, nor were you sure how to feel about it, what with that odd thing sitting between the two of you. You could tell he expected something, what with the way he often shuffled closer than was necessary and fumbled over his own words in an effort to impress.

“Pass me the hammer?” He asked you without looking, lanky shoulders square, hands pressed against parchment, fingers sliding absentmindedly over scrawled-out charcoal and past thick-handled tools.

You snuffled, blinking from where you sat just beside him.

It was just to the right of you on one slightly uneven workbench, closer to the forge’s main window than away. You grabbed at it with slightly wobbly fingers, grimacing as it nearly fell from your hands.

At twelve winters, you still had some time left before you’d really be expected to bloody your hands, and by bloody your hands, you meant to be able to take down a full-grown dragon on your own.’ Of course, most children by now had done their fair share of slaughtering, both animals and otherwise, but none had been able to make it during a raid without help. While you hadn’t done any of it, putting you sorely behind, you were still fine.

For Hiccup, son of Stoick the Vast, feared dragon-killer, the deadlines were a little bit tighter.

You placed the hammer firmly, determinedly into Hiccup’s open palm, the tips of your fingers dragging against slightly sweaty skin.

Gobber had been generous enough to let you in. He didn’t often or ever stop the two of you from doing things. Even still, this was the first time you’d been invited into the forge, and he hadn’t said anything.

Hiccup had also been generous enough to invite you in. You hadn’t quite recognized the invitation for what it was, nor did you think Hiccup did, either. Really, the experience was proving to be rather close. It was the first time you’d ever seen him so enraptured in his work, though, to be fair, you hadn’t known him for long. He’d hardly talked about it.

You doubted he’d told anyone else- it was going to be a larger machine. He definitely didn’t have everything he needed to make it. Not the wood, which would make up a frame large enough to swarf half your body, or all the metals and ores he’d need to make all the levers and rods.

He wasn’t wearing any fur coat, just an apron and his green tunic. He scribbled notes down like the world might be swallowed if he didn’t. You could tell he’d never done that before- made such detailed instructions, thought up such an elaborate contraction.

You liked him happy. You’d seen him frustrated and you thought that was alright too, puzzling over his own work, tongue peeking out slightly from between two teeth, not comically. It was more a subtle, awkward thing.

With his back to you, he worked with a dedicated, single-minded focus, almost tireless. He worked from the moment he sat down to the moment he finished his task with a passion usually only meant for the battlefield, spotted in the eyes of the hungry past floating ashes and spraying gore. It was a passion that said that nothing had ever come natural to him.

He taught himself how to try.

You thought that he must be daring, more than any Viking warrior.

Maybe he wasn’t yet a man, but you could see the shadow of the man he would be-mature, confident, skilled, focused. The way he worked in the forge- his need to shoot down a dragon paled in comparison.

You wondered if anyone else would ever get to see him the way you did, red-and-orange firelight warming his cheeks.

He caught you looking and he smiled, something almost half-toothless and completely crooked, revealing brown-auburn hair made to glow in the light of the fires, spotted gaps in rows of teeth, freckles dusting over a nose’s bridge like speckles on bird’s feathers.

He spoke almost hesitantly, confusedly, as if he’d just realized he’d forgotten to respond, and hadn’t realized it was that important, or that you would have been expecting it, though that didn’t matter to you, because he’d hardly needed to, “Thanks.”

Even unsure, he was much more at home here than out in the open world.

You felt your head perk, shoulders dropping as a soft, gawky thing curled and writhed bashfully in your stomach, not unlike the way a worm reveled in soft, blooming dirt.

Wow.

It hadn’t occurred to you that during all of a fortnight, you hadn’t seen him smile. Now that you’d seen it, you weren’t sure how you’d ever lived without it. 

You thought you could feel the heat radiating from his body as you shuffled closer to him, your fingers curling around his bicep, slightly damp through thick cloth. Your legs were nearly brushing then, leather smock teasing against cloth trouser as you pondered what it might feel like to be handed back soft, honeyed flowers by those very same sooted hands.

You shifted, the grass beneath you wet, dew clinging to the sides of your skirt like a few shiny glass beads. You felt the warm sun against your face, tickling against small hairs and soft skin. Your journal was to your front, scratched up leather cover pressed to your hands, a charcoal stick laying abandoned across empty parchment.

Nearby was a trickling stream, water weaving past water, spraying hollowly against rocks and moss- you could have likened it to yourself and the feeling in your soul, knotting up your chest and mixing up all kinds of squishy insides.

The last you’d seen, Hiccup had been walking. Now, he was nearly falling over himself, legs jerking as his saddle’s straps and reins restricted the movement of his ankles. His shouts echoed around the whole cove, sound bouncing off cold, stone-basin walls.

His dragon slunk off in the distance, still apprehensive and avoidant. It hadn’t quite gotten used to you yet, which was fine, because you were alright with keeping your distance.

Even after you’d had your hand on its slightly-sticky snout, whenever you saw it, you thought of wide, razor-sharp maws and torsos torn from small bodies. A dragon was always going to be a dragon and they were very much deadly creatures- his reassurances of the fact that the Night Fury was just as harmless as any man did you no favors. After all, the only creatures as deadly as a dragon were, in fact, bears… and men. It made you nervous.

It had large, slitted serpent’s eyes, though its scales were flatter and its skin more leathery than warted or slimy as you’d expected from such a fearsome beast. Its face was oddly symmetrical and squat in an abhorrently off-putting way, its horns or fins or whatever else that came sproutings from its skull sort of floppy and bashful and sort of too-big and not-grown-into-yet, just like it’s bulky, soft-looking paws, sort of like Hiccup.

“T-Toothless!” Hiccup practically yowled, distressed and scolding as he fell over, face-planting into dirt and short grass, half helped-along by the wet nose of his dragon. The difference- you felt almost enraptured by it.

He was awful and very often sort of standoffish and sarcastic though not often crude. He was picky and sort of insensitive and he often trampled over boundaries like he was dancing hand-in-hand with trouble, except he didn’t know how to dance, and the hall’s fires hadn’t been lit in a while- not for a celebration, at the very least. 

In that moment, though, you remembered the way it felt to have his folded knuckle digging slightly into your shoulders as he nudged against you distractedly,  just out of view behind the wooden barricade as he was scolded by Gobber. There was something about it that you thought might be either meaningful or accidental that turned over something in your stomach, most particularly because -and not in spite of- the fact that it had come from such a scrawny, lanky, often very, very clumsy-footed boy. 

The way he’d seemed, looking off reminded you of his father a little bit. You saw it, really- all the good and awful parts of the Chief that he’d most definitely inherited, even when most others couldn’t see it. You were scared of it somewhat; of how confident it made him, how distracted and sort of brave-like he could be, even if it only ever ended up making things work for the worst.

Past all your yearning, aching, wanting, and needing-to-have-ings, it scared you just as much as you thought you could watch forever. Did he ever feel the same way about you?

You hadn’t noticed as Hiccup had untangled himself from his trappings. He must have though, and quickly, as during the time you’d spent thinking, he’d walked up close enough to you to cast a long shadow over your face, pulling you out of your own reverie. 

You blinked aimlessly as he settled down next to you. You spoke hesitantly, “So, uhm, how did the saddle…?”

“He didn’t let me put it on.” Hiccup grumbled petulantly. While nothing more or less than sort of scrawny, with the way you were slumping and the way he was sitting with his back straight, he looked sort of tall. It did nothing to erase the pout from his face or the nasal from his voice.

You started, squeaking as his dragon -for the dragon was most definitely his, now- stepped out from the shadows, melded to its back like a fresh set of armor as it stalked its way around the clearing, eternally predatory. 

Hiccup seemed to relax some as you leaned against him, sort of using his shoulder as a shield, scooting behind it as the Night Fury grew closer. You felt particularly offended, even as he let you drape his arm over your middle, leaving his hand dangling awkwardly in the air. Protect me!

“Wow. What did I do?” Hiccup asked, half-smiling, shifting where he sat, unintentionally pressing your shoulder into slightly jagged rock as he got comfortable.

Sometimes you caught him looking, eyes agonizingly blank though the rest of his expression looked to be somewhat soft, the corners of his mouth pressing into a sweeter-looking half-smile. 

You grumbled incomprehensibly as you felt yourself once again eclipsed by shadow, much bigger this time. 

You leaned harder against his shoulder, one hand coming to tangle in his sleeve. You eyed it apprehensively, feeling thin twine catch against the place nail met skin. He didn’t get it.

“Don’t leave me behind.” You said suddenly, abruptly. “Ever.”

Hiccup rubbed the back of his head with his free hand, freckles and thin fingers easily losing themselves under the mop of your hair.

“I-ah, yeah, okay.” Hiccup said, brows crinkled, slight confusion evident in his voice, though it didn’t seem any less calm or comfortable for it. He especially didn’t seem to mind as you clung closer to him, something in his face glowing a blotchy, raw pink. “Alright.”

You were in danger. Really, if enjoyment was all he could bother to feel for your predicament, then you took back all of your praises.

You scoffed miffed-ly at a brown, quirked, knowing brow. The devil- He was such a boy. 

It didn’t matter what configuration of the face you had or your height or size of hair color. That wasn’t what he thought of when he thought of you, at least not at first. 

He looked back at you, sitting in the grass, leaning behind him and he couldn’t help but to think about how pretty your smile was, the way the sun lay over the side of your face and made you look as if you were glowing. Something in his neck twinged as he did, probably sprung or pulled earlier while he was trying to wrestle the saddle onto Toothless.

You were smart- a lot smarter than him on a lot of fronts, though he was pretty ingenious on his own, something anyone, even you, was hard-pressed to match.

Now, he realized, you were just as squirrely as you were cynical.

He’d never really thought of you as someone that needed shielding. You were just as capable and incapable as him in equal measure… mostly. But  in that moment, the realization came to him that maybe you… wanted to be?

He looked at you as you muttered something foul under your breath, feeling the same way he did trying to figure out a puzzle and the same way he felt piecing axles, barrels, ropes and wheels together to make up something interesting.

There really wasn’t much else to it, was there?

Really, if that was what you wanted, Hiccup was anyone but the right man for the job, but, well, if you wanted him… Hiccup winced as you dug your nails into his arm, leaving what was probably a deep set of crescent-shaped imprints in his arm, even through his tunic.

Yeah, he still wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

“It’s cold,” You mumbled absentmindedly, eyes shutting some as a breeze brushed over your cheeks and past your ears. 

You were right. It was chilly, of course, so high up in the watchtower. It was only your second time up there.

“Yeah…” Hiccup said, leaning closer to the fire.

The two of you bumped shoulders, using a spare piece of kindling like a chair. Your ankles were hooked together, tied like a knot in a rope. The sides of your legs were so closely pressed together that they were nearly flush, despite the fact that no one else was there besides the two of you, everyone else having long since packed up their things and left. He wasn’t sure what they’d talked about. He couldn’t remember.

Hiccup kept his eyes exactly where he shouldn’t, watching you.

Your eyes were half-lidded. You leaned over your knees more than not as you turned over a small, split spit, a chunk of lamb speared over one end, his fur coat draped over your shoulders, one hand clutching at the opposite, empty sleeve. You looked very pretty like that, contented.

“They’ve got to add some walls up here, you know,” You said, your head tilting upwards as you examined a particularly soft bit of meat, thumb sliding up your skewer as you tilted it slightly downwards. 

Wow. Hiccup’s eyes were half-lidded, even as he poked at the fires with a stick, nudging the ends of charred logs closer to the fire half-heartedly.

He could hold you by the waist and sway with you and touch your foreheads together and you could play-wrestle and fight in the grass but he couldn’t kiss you and tug his hands through your hair unless he was braiding it and it was driving him crazy. He didn’t want to or have to but now that he knew he could, he thought about it pretty often. He was a teenage boy and you were a teenage girl and he’d always been curious, so of course he’d considered it.

He needed to. He had for years with all the force of a child who’d just learned how to dream. It was- It was… The feeling was surprisingly moral, but no less impassioned.

“One of these days…” HIccup mumbled distractedly. 

One of these days. He thought that every morning, now.

Hiccup blinked, the two of you standing in front of each other, curling your fingers around each other, with your fingers still relaxed. It was comfortable, warm… easy. He turned it over in his head, again and again. 

The cheering of the arena was nearly deafening to his back, the sound of metal weapons crashing against cage bars grating to his ears. They wanted him, blood, the Nightmare… Astrid was waiting behind you, eyes burning holes into him with all the conflicted feelings of a lost warrior. Even past all that, it wasn’t hard, he found, to focus on you; the lines of your face, the soft and hard curves, each and every blemish and soft patch of skin.

Huh. He thought.

He leaned forward and pressed his face against your bowed head, your forehead touching his shoulder dully past thick brown furs. He felt the split of your hairline against the tip of his nose. His eyes were closed tightly shut.

He reveled in the feeling for the moment, taking in the way your hair felt against his cheeks and the way the leftover grasses and burnt wood and juniper left a scent that laid thick over your scalp, both dusty and spiced, a lot like pine.

Ultimately, he was doing this for Toothless, but now, today, he thought that he might be doing it a little for you, too.

The whistling of Toothless' -no, the Fury’s- wings nearly stunned him, loud enough to make it more difficult to think.

Hiccup nearly choked on wind as he gripped onto the handles he’d built into Toothless’ saddle. For a moment, he thought they wouldn’t hold. After all, one small strap of leather was nearly nothing against the full force of the Gods’ cursed offspring.

They had never gone this fast before, his body felt hollow, both as if he was being nailed to the back of his dragon and as if he might just float off at any moment. The feeling It made him cautious just as much as he was focused.

Even past all of that, the space to his back felt abhorrently empty, and not just because of the way they pierced through the sky. Your tears staining the back of his shirt as he and Toothless dived and shot… He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen you cry before. He still hadn’t- it was silent for the most part, and he’d just felt it, really. If he ever had, it hadn’t been like this.

He couldn’t bring you up with him. He couldn’t. Just as he’d almost died in the ring, you had too.

It wasn’t merely a roar, more of a phenomenon, something that shook even the air around him. It was all-consuming and nearly inescapable. The Queen had followed.

Hiccup furrowed his brows and kept urging his dragon upwards.

Rain beat heavily against the roof of the Chief’s hut, making the world around you feel even more cold, weak and hollow. Thunder roared violently outside as the storm raged on.

“Hiccup,” You choked on air and spit and half a sob as you stared down at a sickly, freckled face, sweat running down both too-pale and blotchy red cheeks, staining his shirt dark. Freshly-changed bandages bled a deep crimson, changing with the color of hot blood and foul puss as his knees, one foot-less and the other not, jerked reflexively against the sheets of his blanket.

He’d been consistently out between long bouts of delirium and fever, his eyes rolling beneath his lids, just barely visible under the flickering light of a single, dying candle, twitching viciously. You clutched at Hiccup’s slick palm with both hands as he fitfully fought his way past conscious dreams.

You’d stayed- you’d stayed all night and day.

If dedication had ever really meant anything, if worship and hope and work had ever really meant a damn, if the Gods had ever been real and if their decree had ever meant anything, you hoped your will reached the heavens.

“Lass,” The Chief rumbled deeply from behind you, his heavy weight causing old floorboards to creak deeply as he shifted. 

You didn’t even have the energy to shake off the nearly unbearable heat of his father’s palm on your shoulder as you cried yourself nearly sick with tears and snot and spit gathering at every orifice. It was an ugly cry, an undignified, ungainly one, followed with all your fears and hopes and despairs.

You had your own injuries to tend to, yet you felt as if you couldn’t, not in that moment, not even if it meant that you’d have to be fighting off your own pains and fevers later, if you hadn’t already fallen under their grasp. The only thing you could do was watch and feel a need for Hiccup to be okay so deep it rendered you helpless. Ultimately, though, you knew his recovery had nothing to do with you.  

Hiccup’s dragon had left to cauterwal outside, to wail and wreak havoc and feast on the latest fisherman’s catch. He seemed less worried than you and the Chief but more worried than everyone else, and rightly so.

Suddenly, you started.

With a voice both intensely raspy and wet, Hiccup mumbled your name. It hadn’t been anything special, more a simple expression of his recognition, yet you sniveled as Hiccup clutched back at your hand, his grip weak compared to yours, his eyes dull with the force of his fever. For a very long moment, he held it.

“Hiccup.” You tried again.

The Chief’s hand tightened over your shoulder, squeezing already stiff and sore muscles.

The last time you’d seen his eyes, he’d been staring you in the face, mouth opening and closing pointedly and yet no words had come out. He’d dropped you then, right before rushing up into the sky on Toothless’ back.

Parts of you had been pinned by the rubble after and you had nearly been left behind. You could barely think past the pain, yet you still remembered how it felt to be left on the ground, hands clutched to your chest, mind completely fogged with pain and fear, hoping and hoping and hoping, cringing and in pain as the sky flashed. The terrifying outline of the dragon queen in the sky, smoke and fog larger than life, everyone certain Hiccup was going to die, himself most certainly… It seared a painful picture into your mind.

Part of you had been in danger, then. You weren’t anymore. Now, you really loved Hiccup Haddock, and you needed him to be okay.

He hoped you were safe. He didn’t know what he would do otherwise.

He couldn’t ever let you go. Never. Not until- Not unless he died, even if it hurt and his forehead felt weighted with the pressure of all the world’s fires.

[actuallysaiyan]

for the love of god can the people please get a cockwarming small might req, possibly where it started as just a way to recover if his injury flared during ur usual sex but now hes just into it on its own? i will bow and scrape until my goddam back breaks🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 just started an unbelievably boring job and thinking abt your all might posts are giving me life thru these 8 hour shifts like truly thank you from the shareholders at yagi thirst incorporated

warnings: smut, suggestive themes, unprotected sex, mentions of blood, Small Might form, slight nipple play word count: 0.7k pairings: Toshinori Yagi/Small Might x Fem!Reader summary: Toshinori takes a long time to be comfortable to make love to you, and yet you drive him crazy. one night he gets a cramp and he can't quite perform, but he finds himself so excited and happy to be so close to you. a/n: Thank you soooo much for this one! I really hope you enjoy and thank you for enjoying my thirst for All Might!

He knew he’d never be the same man as before, but you were falling in love with him despite his differences. Even if he was thinking that he wasn’t worthy of love, you were right there to show him that he was wrong. Slowly, you began to make him feel alive again. Toshinori Yagi could proudly say that he wanted to live.

Sex was a whole other thing. It was slow. He would always pull away whenever your make out sessions got a little too heavy. He was always willing to bring you pleasure, but never would he allow you to do it to him. Not only did the thought of you seeing his scar terrify him, but also you knowing he didn’t have the same stamina as before just made him feel even more insecure.

It all started one night when he finally decided to make love to you. He spends a long time focused on you and your pleasure, but he makes it known that he’s going to make love to you. And the first time you make love, it’s romantic and loving and it hits all the right spots. You find yourself dreaming about it for days to come.

Eventually, Toshinori also grows very addicted to the feeling. He loves being able to fuck you in the morning before he has to leave for work. At night whenever he’s feeling very needy and clingy, he fucks you really hard and deep. The man finds himself even more insatiable than he was when he was a young teenager. It’s like something snapped in his brain and you were stirring up his hormones quite a bit.

One night, he has you beneath him, pumping into you deeply. You two share such sweet kisses as he fucks you with precision. All of a sudden, he coughs up blood and he slows himself down. He feels like something is wrong. He looks down at you and you can see the hatred for himself in his eyes. He wants to just disappear and be swallowed up by the ground.

Then you reach up and gently wipe the blood away from his mouth with your fingers. “Toshi, are you okay?”

Just the gentleness of your motions and actions has him shuddering. He’s still inside of you, and still very hard. But his side hurts and the scar is throbbing for the first time in a long time. When you look up at him again, you see the worry on his face.

“Just…I’m sore, honey.”

You pull him in for a very tender kiss, not caring that there’s still blood on his lips. You hold onto him, allowing him to stay so deep inside of you as you rub his back and gently soothe him. Toshinori lays his head on your breasts, sighing happily. Just being connected to you like this makes him feel so safe, so loved and so happy.

The next time that you two make love, he offers to take you in the spooning position. He spreads your thighs, slipping into you from behind. Both of you moan as he bottoms out, and instead of him continuing a pace, he just settles behind you and wraps his arm around you.

“Just let me enjoy the feeling of you, honey.”

Your fingers intertwine as he presses kisses to your neck and your shoulder. Your walls flutter around his girth, causing him to grunt. The feeling of just resting while being deep inside of you makes him feel dizzy. It’s the greatest feeling to just be so connected to you like this. He can easily grab onto your hips and push deeper into you.

Then his hand slowly moves up to your sides, the fingertips are calloused and rough but feel so heavenly on your soft skin. You shudder and look at him over your shoulder. Toshinori has this beautiful look of love on his face as your gaze locks, despite the awkward position to look at him.

“My angel,” he murmurs softly as he leans in to press even more kisses to your neck. “I could never get tired of holding you so close like this.”

His fingers graze over your skin, making the hair on your body stand on end. Then he gently cups your breast, slowly rocking his hips. He tweaks your nipple, making you moan just for him. He can take it so slow for the both of you, and if things get a little too out of hand, he can easily just settle down, stop and stay buried deep inside of you.

You two have all night…and every night to be close to one another.

reblogs and comments always appreciated!

©actuallysaiyan 2024– do not repost on other platforms, copy, translate or edit my works!

dividers: @adornedwithlight

[quintessenceofdust88]

Nonna Rosa fixes it

[Now on AO3!] Okayyy, it's officially not the weekend anymore, but only for like five minutes, so technically I'm on time! This got totally away from me, and I had to actually force myself to end it where I did. Nonna Rosa took the narrative from my hands and said 'I'll take it from here', and good for her. Not to be dramatic but I love her. Anyway, if any Italian-speaking people read this: I AM SO SORRY. This is all Collins dictionary or Google Translate, I don't speak a word of Italian and I'll be very glad to correct any mistakes you might notice ♥ I hope you guys enjoy it! if you want to know more about Nonna Rosa, send me an ask, I have looots of headcanons for her (and Tommy's childhood). Here you go:

A week after breaking up with Evan, Tommy is still feeling like shit. He can barely sleep, anything he tries to eat tastes like sawdust, and he feels like he’s living on autopilot. He goes to work, he comes back home, he tries to eat, he tries to sleep, rinse and repeat. Nothing else matters, there’s nothing else he feels like doing. He doesn’t answer Howie’s texts asking how he’s doing (he answered the first one, telling Howie not to worry about him, but can’t do more than that); he completely ignores Eddie’s invitation for Muay Thai and basketball, and he comes up with an excuse as to why he can’t make karaoke bar that Thursday. And yet, there’s one thing he can’t put off, as much as he wishes to: talking to his Nonna. 

Tommy calls his grandmother at least once a week; she still lives in Indiana, in the same house he spent most of his childhood in, and he knows his uncle Bart visits often. But he likes to hear from her himself. Visiting her was a rare occasion, and the last time he was able to was about four months ago. The minute he had stepped in, Nonna had asked him if he was ‘innamorato’, because he was looking so much happier than usual.

And he knows she’ll perceive his sadness just as quick, if not quicker. The woman has always been able to read him like an open book. She’s probably the only person alive who can; he’s always made sure to keep his layers hidden from everyone else, even from… 

Well. Doesn’t matter now, does it? 

Fact is, that if he misses his call with Nonna, it’ll be even worse. She’ll know something’s up, and he doesn’t put past her to fly across the country to check on him (he’s always been the favorite grandson and everyone knows it). So it’s best to get it over with. With a heavy sigh, he sits down on his couch (and tries not to think about how empty it feels when it’s just him in there) and rings her up, bracing himself.

“Pronto? Tommasino?” She answers the call, as always with the camera too close to her face, and that at least brings a smile to his face.

“Nonna, you need to stretch your arm a little. Remember, like Charlie showed you?” He asks with a chuckle; Charlie being his cousin’s daughter, Charlotte, who taught Nonna how to FaceTime so she could ‘see Tommasino’s pretty face more often’, in her own words. 

She stretches her arm and Tommy gets a good look at her. Nonna looks the same as always, sharp blue eyes in a soft face that’s wrinkled both from age and from a lifetime of smiles. Her hair is wrapped in hair rollers and tucked safely behind a red bandana. Tommy misses her fiercely, and wishes more than ever that he could get wrapped in one of her hugs. 

They always did wonders for him when he was a little boy who used to climb trees and get scrapes and bruises; when he was a scared eleven-year-old missing his mother (and as a grown-up he can appreciate Nonna was hurting at least as much as him, having lost her daughter, but still never let it show) and dealing with an angry abusive father; when he was a scared eighteen-year-old, before leaving the only home he’d ever known to join the Army. And when he was a scared 33-year-old man, coming out as gay to his 75 year-old-grandmother, afraid of being rejected by the one person alive who truly loved him, and Nonna had stood on her tiptoes, pulled him into one of those hugs, and told him all she ever wanted for Tommy was to see him happy, and that she would always love him. 

A hug from his grandmother had always made Tommy feel like the world was an easier place to be faced, and right now, that’s exactly what he needs. And his longing must show in his face, because she’s frowning at him, her eyes full of concern. 

“Oh, Tommasino” She says softly. “What’s wrong, bambino mio? You look so sad” She asks, and to Tommy’s horror, he finds his eyes filling up. Nonna has that way of bringing out every emotion he tries to repress.

“Everything’s wrong, Nonna, and it’s all my fault” He blurts out before he can stop himself, and the look on his grandmother’s face tells Tommy she’d be placing a sizable plate of cake and a cup of strong coffee in front of him if she could.

“You have a habit of saying things are your fault even when they aren't, so I'm afraid I'll need the entire story, my boy” She says gently, and Tommy watches as she sits down by her kitchen table (the same kitchen table where he did most of his school homework, the same kitchen table from where he always used to steal a biscotti while they were still warm), supporting her face in her hand and turning those sharp blue eyes at the phone screen. Tommy swears he can feel them pierce through his very soul. “What happened? Is it your Evanino?”

The question sends a knife right through Tommy's chest as he imagines what could have been. Gosh, Nonna would have loved Evan (who doesn't love Evan, you idiot?, he tells himself), and he knows deep in his heart Evan would have loved her as well. Every time Tommy would talk about her (which he did fairly often; he was a grandma's boy and had no shame about it), Evan would get a wistful expression on his face and tell Tommy that she sounded awesome.

He had been planning on taking Evan with him next time he managed to visit her, not wanting to introduce them through the phone. Now it's for the best he didn't; at least Nonna won't have to miss him like Tommy does.

“He… he's not mine anymore, Nonna,” He admits, his voice thick with emotion. “We broke up”

“What?! Ma comme?! You were so happy last time we talked!” She asked, and of course Tommy was happy; it was the day before their six month anniversary, and he had been so full of excitement. “Was he not happy? Is that why you're blaming yourself, Tomasino?”

A smile as bright as sunshine crosses Tommy's mind. A smile that only started to fade once Tommy told him he knew how it ended. A smile that had become his personal beacon of light in the past six months. A smile he misses like a lost limb.

“He… he was happy” He says, because that much he knows to be true; Evan was happy with him, Tommy made sure of that. His grandmother frowns at that, and Tommy doesn't blame her; the story seems convoluted, feels convoluted, even to himself, and he lived it.

“Thomas, you have to help your old grandmother, because I cannot understand what is the problem. If you were happy and he was happy, then why are you not together anymore?”

“Because he asked me to move in with him” Tommy says, and that doesn't seem to clear the situation for her. If anything, her frown deepens, and she reaches for a piece of bread, fiddling with it; Nonna could never keep her hands still, especially when she was nervous, and Tommy had inherited that from her. 

“Does that mean something different when it’s two men?” She asks, completely genuine, and that earns a surprised chuckle from Tommy. 

“No, Nonna�� Tommy says, and all of a sudden the urge to laugh is gone again; it never lasts long, not after Evan. “It… It means the same”

“Very well, and you said no? That’s why he ended things?” She asks, and Tommy sighs brokenly, the memories of the night no less painful than when it happened.

“No. I… I broke up with him, Nonna. He asked me to move in with him, and I didn’t just say no. I… I broke up with him," Tommy admits with a heavy heart. 

“Tesoro, you do realize you are not making any sense? You and your boy were happy; he asked you to move in with him, and instead you broke up with him. Then you show up looking like your heart was broken and tell me it is your fault. What am I missing, bambino?”

“I have a house, Nonna!” He snaps, finally being able to voice the things that have been stewing in his heart and mind since that night. “I have a house, and he lives in a rented loft, and it makes no sense for me to move in with him!”

Nonna doesn’t answer right away. She chews thoughtfully on her bread, letting a small silence fall between the pair of them before she eventually sighs and answers him.

“Benne, you have a point, it wouldn’t make sense. But that isn’t the whole problem, is it, Tommasino?” Nonna adds shrewdly. “You could have talked it out, explained that to him. So what made you walk out of the best thing that happened to you in years?”

Tommy can always trust Nonna to lay things down exactly as they are, no matter how painful it sounds. She’s right, he did walk out of the best thing that happened to him in years, maybe ever, and it’s getting harder and harder to justify that decision to himself. 

“N-Nonna, I was… I was falling so in love with him” He tells her, and feels tears starting to prickle the corner of his eyes.

“Yes, I’ve known that since last time you were here” Nonna says impatiently. “That’s not a reason to leave, Thomas; that’s a reason to stay”

“Only if he loved me back” He says automatically, and Nonna crosses her arms, unimpressed. 

“And who says he doesn’t? Did you ask him?” She asks sharply, and Tommy sighs. This conversation is taking a completely different route than what he expected. 

“I didn’t have to, Nonna. I… I just know it, okay? I was his first relationship with a man. I cannot be the last, that’s not how it works. And I… I thought I was okay with it, that I could enjoy it while it lasted, but… But I didn’t expect to love him this much” He admits, as much to himself as to her. It’s all his fault, really, for falling so deeply, flying too close to the Sun. “I-it’s safer to break my own heart now than to let him do it when I’m way too deep to recover. N-not that I’m recovering all too well, but… could be worse” He finishes, already wiping the few tears that inconveniently decided to rush down his cheeks. 

If Tommy expects his grandmother to nod sympathetically at that and coo at him (he kinda does; she has a habit of doing that when he cries), he has another thing coming. Nonna scoffs loudly, hitting the table with her hand, strong from decades of kneading bread. The noise is enough to startle Tommy out of tears.

“Thomas Domenico Kinard, I didn’t know me and your dear Mamma, may God have her soul, had raised an estupido vigliacco!” She exclaims, her hand flailing loudly to emphasize her words. 

Tommy will be the first to admit his Italian is rusty, but he’s pretty sure she just called him a stupid coward. And. Ouch.

“Nonna!” He exclaims back, but she isn’t dissuaded. She tuts him with a sharp ‘Silenzio!’ and a raised finger, and Tommy shuts up right away. He knows that when Nonna starts, the best he can do is take the scolding, so he leans back on his couch, trying his best not to look like a chided boy who got caught stealing fruit from the neighbor’s orchard.

“You are my grandson, and I love you more than anything in this world. You are a good man with a wonderful heart, but you have one big problem, Tommaso. You always assume you know people’s feelings better than they do, and then you make your own decisions based on that without actually asking anyone. Remember when you decided I should move to California because you thought I was lonely here?” She asks, raising an eyebrow, and Tommy nods sheepishly. “Do you remember what I told you?”

“That if and when you wanted to move to California, you would let me know, but you were perfectly capable of making your own decisions” He mumbles back, the epic scolding from five years ago still fresh on his mind. 

“Esattamente. Now, I think your Evanino deserves the same courtesy. He is not a silly child, Thomas. If he wants you to be his last, if he loves you, who do you think you are to decide that he doesn’t?”

“But he never said he did,” Tommy replies stubbornly. “He… He never even told me he loved me, he just asked me to move in with him. It’s like… It’s like he wanted to prove a point, Nonna. That he could be… committed, or queer, or whatever, I don’t know. But he never said he loved me”

“Did you say it to him?” Nonna asks, and Tommy stares at her with his mouth agape. Damn this woman and her ability to ask the most uncomfortable questions. 

“N-no” He admits. “I… I was too afraid of him not saying it back”

“Hmmm” Nonna hums thoughtfully. “That’s your other problem, bambino mio. You think you don’t deserve to be loved. I blame that man for that” Nonna says with a scoff, and they both know exactly who she’s talking about; there’s no lost love between Rosa Lucciola and her ex-son-in-law, Brian Kinard, and the way he treated Tommy and his mother before she passed is the sole reason for it. 

“Well, that’s neither here nor there, Nonna” He says with a shrug, always uncomfortable when his father becomes even a small topic of conversation, but she tuts disapprovingly.

“Ah, isn’t it? Has it never occurred to you that maybe your Evanino could have the same problem? That he was as afraid as you to show his heart and have it broken?”

Tommy desperately wants to say that he thought about it, that it occurred to him; but it hasn’t. Evan is such a sunshine of a man, always so prone to smiles and loving gestures towards anyone he cares about, that Tommy never thought there could be insecurities there. Now it makes him feel selfish and stupid (or estupido as Nonna had so accurately called him). 

“Nonna…” Tommy says, his mind catching up to everything she said and a horrifying realization dawns on him. “What if he did love me back? Oh my God, did I fuck this up?!” He asks before he can stop himself. 

“Language! Do not take the Signore’s name and swear in the same sentence!” She chides him, and Tommy mutters ‘sorry’, but her look is impossibly fond. “But, well. Maybe you did; maybe you didn’t. Are you going to sit around and mope or try to find out?” Nonna challenges him. 

“W-what if he never loved me, Nonna? Or what if he did, but me walking out made him stop?” Tommy asks, not knowing which possibility scares him the most.

“What if he still does, Thomas?” Nonna counteracts. “What if he loves you and is too afraid to reach out because you already rejected him once, hm? Someone has to be brave, and he already was when he asked you to move in, bambino. Maybe it was a little impulsive, but his heart was in the right place; it was in your future together”

Tommy realizes Nonna is right. He can’t expect Evan to reach out (he realizes he was at some level, and he would have rushed to it; one call from Evan and Tommy would be right back to his life, ready to reheal his own heart when things inevitably went wrong, just for another glimpse of Evan Buckley’s personal sunshine); it’s his turn to fight for them. It’s his turn to be brave. 

“Ah, you finally realized it, hm?” Nonna says; something must be showing on his face, because there’s a satisfied smile on her face. “Fight for that boy, Thomas. Fight for your happiness, tesoro. Prove to your Nonna you are not estupido”

“Nonna, you are most definitely the best person on the planet, and I promise you didn’t raise a estupido. I’ll do right by Evan. By… By me. By both of us” Tommy promises to her, promises to himself. He blows a kiss to the screen of his cellphone, desperately wishing he could kiss her cheek in person. “Ti amo, Nonnina” (I love you, granny) 

“Ti amo, nipotini del mio cuore” (I love you, grandson of my heart) She tells him back, and a mischievous smirk appears on her face. “You better bring that boy here to try my rondelli before the year is over, you hear?”

“Dio, I hope so, Nonna” He tells her, and they say their goodbyes before hanging up. Tommy already misses her.

He holds his cellphone close to his heart, wondering if he should text Evan, but decides against it. This is too big for a text, too big for a call. He’ll go over in the morning, probably with a bouquet of flowers or whatever other extravagant gift he can come up with, ready to grovel and explain himself and beg for a second chance, even if it’s only to hear a ‘no’. Even if it’s only to let Evan yell at him and get the closure he deserves. Even if it’s only to get his already shattered heart broken into even more pieces. Tommy has to be brave.

After all, nonna and mamma didn’t raise a coward. 

(Evan doesn’t say no. And when Tommy explains, after several rounds of make-up sex, what made him change his mind, he promises to send Nonna a present. The present ends up being him and Tommy, because they go to Indiana for Christmas, and Evan falls in love with Nonna and her rondelli. Just like Tommy knew he would)

--

Tag list (let me know if I missed anyone! also if you want to be removed or only tagged in Little Blobs' Verse):

@bidisasterevankinard @unhingedangstaddict @silversky9 @music-is-the-voice-of-the-soul @asmugfirefighter @rubydaiquiri @racerchix21 @actuallyitsellie

(Although here's a lil spoiler - Nonna Rosa will probably show up in Little Blobs' verse cause I'm not ready to let go of her and she'd whack me in the head with a spoon if I didn't let her meet her great-grandchildren)

[thelov3lybookworm]

Hey, will you write a cassian x reader fic inspired by the song Creepin by Metro Boomin & the Weeknd?

My fault.

Summary: They never liked her. Thought he was too good for her. She did not realised the lengths they would go to hurt her.

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: self loathing, cheating, asshole inner circle, reader does not think herself worthy of love. that's all, me thinks, but if there's more, lemme know.

A/n: thank you for the request anon! i enjoyed writing it so much 🥹 so sorry for the long wait my love❣️

(the inner circle is kind of a bitch in this, not Nesta though. she is an angel. reader has no freakin backbone, so dont read if its no your cup of tea)

with that out of the way, i might do a part two if everyone wants it. I have it all planned out 😏

anyways, enjoy!

(heheh @artists-ally and @aroseinvelaris i hope this makes you cry. the snippets were just the snacks. this is the meal)

•○🌑○•

Y/n stared at her best friend of centuries, numbness spreading through her chest the longer she thought about the information she had just received.

"Y/n? Please say something." Nina begged, her eyes shining with tears, pleading.

"What is there left to say?" Y/n mumbled, taking a deep breath as she turned her gaze towards the empty cup that sat in front of her, picking at her cuticles. "Are you... are you sure it was him?"

Y/n knew it hurt Nina to be the bearer of the bad news, and she felt bad for asking her more about it. But she needed to know. "Yes. I don't think many Illyrians walk around with seven glowing rocks on their body."

Y/n nodded absently.

They sat a few moments in silence, letting the scrape and clinks of the cutlery fill the space between them.

It was supposed to be a girl's day today, and it had been fun, until Nina had gotten that sad, guilty look on her face as the two of them sat sipping on tea at a small cafe in the heart of Velaris.

Y/n almost regretted asking her friend what the matter was. Almost.

When the quiet became unbearable, Y/n stood with a deep sigh, grabbing her purse from the table in between them. Nina followed. "Y/n?"

"I think it's getting late. We should go home. He will be returning soon."

Y/n could see Nina's heart breaking for her friend, but she did not want anyone's sympathy.

"You are going to go back? To that house? To him?"

Y/n released a frustrated breath as the two of them left the cafe, spilling out into the packed street. "What else am I supposed to do? Run away?"

"Yes! He does not deserve you. Please tell me you will leave?"

Y/n looked away from Nina. "You know me, Nina. I have never been one to just up and leave."

It was almost common knowledge at this point. Everyone who knew Y/n, knew she would rather stay in a relationship in which she was the only one making an effort than leave. And she knew she probably was weak for not standing up for herself, the couple of relationships she's been in before showing that, but she simply could not bring herself to forget the teachings of her long dead mother-

That it was a female's job to keep her partner satisfied, and if he sought out other women, then it was the female's fault that she could not satisfy his needs.

Y/n did not think she would ever be able to stop being that timid, shy female who would just cry in the safety of the darkness in her room when someone hurt her.

She hated herself for it.

Nina was the only one who understood Y/n's reasoning and did not give her shit for it. She was the only one who tried to gently guide Y/n to stand up for herself. She never judged Y/n for crying.

"I..." Nina took a deep breath before nodding, rubbing Y/n's back. "I hope you someday find it in yourself to leave him before he..."

Nina did not say it, but Y/n heard it nonetheless.

Before he left her, disposed in favour of someone better. Someone more beautiful, someone more confident and loveable.

Y/n nodded, blinking back tears as she moved to hug her friend, who was more of a sister than anything at this point.

"Thank you." Y/n murmured into Nina's shoulder, her voice breaking. She felt Nina nod against her, giving her a rueful smile after they pulled away.

"Take care, Y/n."

Y/n nodded, turning away. "You too."

•○🌑○•

Y/n searched his face for something, anything, to show her that what Nina had told her was just a lie. That maybe she was mistaken.

Y/n came up lacking.

Now that she thought about it, the signs were always there. She was just too busy pretending that everything was fine. That Cassian was not like her previous lovers. That he would not throw her to the side, out of his life, for someone else.

That he loved her.

She now saw how foolish she'd been. Every male put on this land by the mother was the same. They only wanted females who were confident, who knew how to give them what they wanted.

She remembered how he had become recently. Yelling and picking fights over the smallest things.

The first time it happened, he was deep in his work, and Y/n had dropped something, making a loud sound and startling the both of them. Usually, Cassian would have given her a small smile and just gone back to work. But not that day.

That day he had glared at her, which was almost worse than the words that he mumbled next.

"When will you stop being clumsy?"

He had spoken under his breath, but Y/n had still heard. She stiffened.

"What?"

He sighed, his frustration evident. "When will you stop being clumsy?"

His voice was loud, almost booming, echoing in the painful silence after. Tears filled Y/n's eyes as she stared at him.

"Great. Now you are crying." He leaned back, dragging his palms down his face. Y/n ducked her head.

"I'm sorry." With that, she had shuffled out of his office, hoping she had not angered him too much and that he would forgive her.

Y/n watched, as Cassian threw back his head and laughed at something his family said, his hand on his abdomen.

She knew he had recently begun pulling away, knew he felt trapped by her.

And so she had let him do what he wished, made herself smaller to make space for his happiness.

Maybe that's where she had gone wrong.

She could tell he felt freer in this moment. Could tell by the sparkle in his eyes and by the constant smile and joy on his face.

She watched through the window as his body shook with the bouts of laughter his family pulled from him. She stood outside of the small gates that guarded the River estate of the high lord and blinked away her tears.

She had not seen him this happy in months now, and she had to fight off the jealousy that simmered in her gut. After all, she had no right to feel that way after she was the one who suppressed his happiness.

Y/n took a breath, releasing it in a sigh as she made up her mind. She needed to talk to Cassian, and then she would go back home, to the place she and Cassian had shared. To the place that he stopped living in in the past months, only visiting for the sake of it.

Walking up to the door of the home was quicker than she expected, and suddenly she was staring at the fine wood and considering bolting.

Her hand raised itself before she could do anything else, knocking, and she cursed lowly when the sound of footsteps approached.

The door opened to reveal a beautiful female staring at Y/n with a small smile. She had gorgeous blue-grey eyes, her hair that was wrapped around her head in a crown shining under the faelights.

"Yes? How can I help you?"

Y/n blinked, swallowing, wondering if she looked as miserable as she felt.

"I- is Cassian here?"

The female's brows furrowed. "Yes. Who are you?"

Y/n's eyes travelled to behind the female, where now stood a wide eyed Cassian and a furious looking High Lord. "I..."

Cassian sighed, taking a step forward, making the beautiful female glance back at them. "She's my-"

"She's no one, Nesta." Everyone's eyes snapped to the high lord. Hate spread through Y/n, but she tamped it down when Cassian simply continued staring at his brother instead of defending his wife.

A sudden rush of tears prickled at Y/n's eyes, but she swallowed hard. "Yes. I'm no one."

Cassian met her eyes, his gaze pained. Y/n had the vague feeling of being watched, but she ignored it, directly addressing her husband.

"Can I have a word? In private?"

The high lord opened his mouth, to reject no doubt, but Cassian beat him to it. "Yes."

Y/n sighed, and when she inhaled, Cassian's scent mixed with a soft, feminine filled her lungs . Y/n's wide eyes swung to a confused looking Nesta before glancing at Cassian disbelievingly, and she could see guilt overtaking Cassian's features.

She blinked, letting the tears fill her eyes as she gave him a pained expression.

"Thank you." Y/n mumbled, her tone defeated. Before the high lord could interrupt, she turned away, making her way towards the garden in front of the house, knowing Cassian followed.

When she was sure that no one could eavesdrop on them unless they really wanted to, she turned to her husband.

The two of them just stared at each other, the air around them charged.

Y/n decided to try and break a tense silence. "Hi."

His brows furrowed. "Hi..."

She smiled uncertainly at him as she contemplated her next words. "I... how are you?"

He blinked. "I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

She shrugged, the words flying out of her mouth before she could stop them. "Just feels like I haven't seen you in a long time. I've been worried."

His features softened, his eyes studying her. "I'm sorry. I have been... busy."

She nodded. "I can tell."

Despite her efforts to not let her sadness show, she knew he could tell.

"I- I can explain-"

Y/n shook her head. "There is no need to. I understand."

He blinked again. "What? You... what?"

She gave him a look. "I understand why you did it. I mean... it's not like it hasn't happened before with my previous lovers. I get it."

His mouth opened and closed like a fish, and Y/n continued.

"Look, it's... okay. I won't stop you from it. Just... I don't want to know. If you are playing me, please... keep it low. My heart can't take it anymore. Just don't let me find out. Keep it to yourself." Her voice wavered as she spoke the words that were swirling through her mind since Nina told her about what she'd seen. "Please don't throw me away."

Guilt and shock spread though his face, as if he's just made a realisation and hated it. "Y/n I am so sorry-"

His voice broke, and Y/n immediately began searching for ways to ask for forgiveness and make him happy.

"Don't apologise, my love. I know your family hates me, and I probably deserve it. I... you definitely deserve better. I know you do. And I understand." She took a deep breath, knowing she was rambling but she could not stop. "I- I am so sorry I could not give you what you want, but please, Cassian, don't-"

Cassian grabbed her face, pulling her into his chest. Y/n stilled, trying to take in a full breath as tears started escaping her eyes as she gasped and clenched her eyes shut.

"Y/n-"

But a sharp gasp cut him off, and Y/n pulled away from Cassian, finding Nesta and Rhysand staring at them. Y/n took a few steps back, not wanting to ruin whatever was giving Cassian the happiness she couldn't.

But Nesta glared at Cassian, and then Rhys. With a start, Y/n realised the high lord was staring at her.

And he had tears in his eyes.

"You were trying to get me to accept the bond with a married male?"

Everything slowed down, and Y/n stared in horror at Rhysand.

"Mates?" She whispered.

Nest looked over, making to step close. "Please forgive me. I did not know that brute was married. I would never have done what I did otherwise."

Y/n shook her head, wondering if there was a way to respond to that.

She settled on the only thing that made sense to her.

"Good night."

She turned towards the gates, and, for the first time since she had met Cassian, ignored the calls of her name by her husband, his brother and his mate as she sprinted away.

•○🌑○•

General Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392

Cassian taglist: @kennedy-brooke @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter

[sadsapphic-rose]

the allure of a long lost prophet

lowkey featuring kidnapper!lottie

word count is 9,424

honestly not totally sure what this is, after episode four of the new season i was kind of struck with inspiration and this was the result

lottie matthews x reader, past and present timelines, mild hints at reader having a bit of a thing for praise but no smut, hurt/comfort kinda?, other canon typical warnings but there’s honestly nothing too crazy, i feel like i’ve written everything pretty mild but i wanted to add the warnings just in case!

if anyone reads, pls PLS be gentle, this is my first time posting anything i’ve written and i’m honestly rlly nervous about it lol

also fair warning i don’t have anyone to edit so it was just me rereading and trying to fix any errors i came across. sorry if there are any lingering mistakes!

sorry for the long intro, here it is!!

Autumn (2021) Present Day

Your unconscious mind is hazy, showing you flashes of memories you’d long since buried. The crash, the wilderness, the cold of that first winter… the hunger. Things you wish would stay hidden in the recesses of your brain.

You remember running, the hunter turned prey. Always running, desperately fleeing your imminent demise.

Consciousness dawns slowly and as you wake up, several things register at once. First: the unfamiliar environment. You’re in a room not your own, sparsely furnished and rather foreboding. Second: the blinding headache, as if your very skull was splitting open. And third, and perhaps most importantly: your wrists are bound behind you. You’re sat in a chair, body aching in protest. Not necessarily at the position itself that you’re seated in, but the fact that you’ve mostly likely been here for quite some time. At least an hour or two if you had to guess, given the numbness setting into your extremities.

“Well, fuck.” You don’t even register that you’ve spoken out loud. Kidnapped, you think. Just your luck. As the reality of the situation begins to set in so does the fear of what’s to come.

In a crazed frenzy you tug and pull at the ropes to no avail, only succeeding in scraping your wrists raw. You refuse to cry out for help, wary of who might answer. With a huff you give up on that particular venture, taking deep breathes in an attempt to calm yourself and form a useful and coherent thought. Thankfully one comes in the form of a helpful realization. Those idiots who kidnapped you didn’t think to check your pockets. You’re able to shimmy one hand into your back pocket and grab your pocket knife. You grimace, remembering the day your father gave it to you. He wasn’t good for much but he did have the occasional fatherly win. This was one of them.

You open it, bending and twisting uncomfortably to saw through the restraints binding you. Once free, you assess the damage done to your wrists, grimacing at the reddened skin. You spot a few places where the skin has broken open but decide to ignore it for now in favor of escaping.

As tempted as you are to examine the room for clues at to who might’ve taken you and what they might want, you need to leave. The next problem on your list: the fucking door is locked because of course it is. Easily solved by… you contemplate, looking around. Your eyes lock in on the pair of windows to your left. An attempt at opening them is fruitless but you had anticipated that much. You wonder if jumping through one of the windows could work. Your captors may have thought to lock them but they certainly wouldn’t expect you to pull something like this. Be it panic or sheer idiocy, you brace yourself and dive through the glass and onto the porch outside. With surprisingly minimal damage from the shattered glass you scoff slightly, not expecting that to have worked out nearly as well as it did. A quick look around reveals absolutely zero sign of familiar scenery. Dense forest seemingly surrounds you at every angle and it is at this moment that the panic that had been brewing inside of you fully takes hold. With little thought you break into a run, truly aimless in direction with one goal in mind: escape.

As you run, you can feel branches snagging on your clothes and scraping at your skin. While you pass other cabins similar to the one you were locked in, you hear distant shouts and various voices calling out to each other. The panic worsens and you fear being caught at any moment.

Winter (1996)

You’re running… faster than you thought possible, absolutely frantic in your efforts to get away. It chose. You can feel the weight of that damned necklace resting on your collarbone. Thoughts of Jackie surface and you sob. You can’t share her fate. You have to find a way to survive… no matter what.

Present Day

Running faster, you heave for breath, panting in exertion. You curse the universe for giving you asthma as you begin to feel an attack coming on. Wheezing sets in and you eventually have to stop to catch your breath. The forest goes quiet. All that can be heard is your breathing and a primal, ice cold fear shoots down your spine as you feel a presence behind you. You turn slowly, shaking slightly. Lottie fucking Matthews in all her glory approaches and opens her arms out wide. For a moment you’re tempted to fall into her embrace like you did all those years ago in the wilderness. Instead, you turn on your heels and bolt in the opposite direction once more. Just when you think you’ve lost her, fate in her infinite humor causes you to trip. You land harshly on the ground and manage to get the wind knocked out of you. Through gasping breaths you get back up, ready to run again but she’s already there in front of you.

“Please, don’t hurt me”, You whimper, “I just wanna go home.”

“Hurt you?” She frowns, “Darling, I’m here to protect you. You’re mine, remember? My sweet little dove. I would never ever hurt you.” You can feel it then, the pull towards her, like it never went away. “You’re meant to be here… can’t you feel it?” You let out a confused whining sound, tears falling from your eyes. “Shhh, hush now, love. You’re alright.” She comes close and wipes your tears as they fall. “I’ll take care of you, like I did before, you just have to let me.”

“L-Lottie, I— I don’t understand, please…” That all consuming panic returns, clouding your mind.

“It’s okay, calm yourself, dove. You are exactly where you need to be.”

“N-no, I— I don’t belong here, I need to go…” Breathing properly becomes a near impossible task and you begin to hyperventilate.

“You’re safe here, darling. This is all for your own good.” Your breaths come faster and faster, your head growing fuzzy and light. She puts a hand on your chest, guiding you to slow your breathing. You fight it at first, the panic too strong but eventually you calm, sagging into her. She holds you in a strong embrace, rocking you slowly from side to side. “That’s it.” She coos. “Good girl.” Your chest warms at the praise. As much as you hate to admit it, you missed this, you missed her.

“Lottie why am I here?” You murmur into her shoulder.

“You tell me. I searched for years only to find you like this… broken, alone, a shell of your former self. I couldn’t leave you like that, not after everything we’ve been through together.”

You tremble as she refers to the wilderness. The things that occurred over 25 years ago still fresh in your mind, haunting you despite many (albeit futile) attempts to move on.

“You feel it too, don’t you?” She continues, “The pull. It wants this, us… together again.” You step away despite her trying to keep you close in her arms. “There’s no use denying it, no use fighting. It’s still in us, it never left and you know as well as I do that it has a way of getting what it wants.”

“No.” You shake your head. “No, Lottie I— I can’t do this, not again. Please…” You cut yourself off, bringing a hand to your mouth and holding your other arm around your stomach. The very thought of your gruesome survival and the things you had to do back then bring a wave of nausea over you. You had barely made it out alive and even then, the guilt was enough to make you wish you hadn’t. “I— I won’t.”

She stills, stone faced. “Oh really?” You nod, trying your best to stay resolute and ignore the damn near magnetic allure of her words. It’s difficult, Lottie is as captivating as ever. She hums at your insistence. “Somehow I doubt that. You’re strong, my love, but at some point you must realize you can’t do this alone.” You falter, recognizing the truth in her words. “It’s okay to rely on others, to rely on me, just like you used to. I’ll protect you. I’ll keep you safe and help you heal. You never have to be alone again.” Your heart stutters in your chest. As much as you’d hate to admit it out loud, she’s having an effect on you.

“Come here.” She’s stern, commanding. You balk at the audacity… and yet you can’t help but obey. She brings you into her arms once again. “See darling? How easy that was?”

“Lottie…”

“You’re going to stay here, at Camp Green Pine, and I am going to help you. I’m afraid I won’t take no for an answer.”

You give in and at long last your racing thoughts quiet. It’s safe here, in Lottie’s arms. It always has been. You relax into her hold.

“There you go, good girl.” Burying your face into her shoulder you catch a whiff of her perfume. It’s different from what she wore when she was young but somehow still familiar and so very Lottie. “Come, I’ll take you back to your cabin and we can get you settled for the night.” She begins leading you back through the forest, a guiding hand on the small of your back. As backwards as it sounds, giving up control is rather freeing. And when it’s Lottie? Giving up control comes to you as easily as breathing does.

As you walk, you distractedly rub at your scraped wrists, the soreness from the rope burn setting in. She notices your movements and frowns.

“I am sorry about the circumstances of your arrival here, I had hoped to at least be there when you woke to ease you into things.”

“Yeah, well…” You trail off with a shrug. She stops walking and turns to you.

“May I see?” You nod wordlessly and allow her to take your wrists into her hands. They’re smooth and warm, soothing to the newly formed scrapes and bruises. She tuts, a crease in her brow. “You must’ve put up quite the struggle to cause such injuries. We’ll get you some first aid and then it’ll be off to bed with you.”

Her tone is chiding, motherly. She continues walking, leading you to a cabin in the distance. Autumn leaves crunch under your feet and you find it nice to focus on something other than your current predicament. You shiver as a particular frigid breeze blows through. You’re certainly not dressed for the weather, only in a long sleeve t-shirt and jeans. She pulls you closer, rubbing a hand up and down your arm. “We’re nearly there, the nurses station is just over this way.”

“You have a whole nurses station here?” You question, deeply confused.

“It’s just a precaution, I’d much rather have it just in case as opposed to being caught unprepared. Plus, it’s much easier than driving all the way into town for a minor illness or injury.”

“Right…” You mumble. A thought comes to mind. “You are pretty secluded all the way out here, is that intentional?”

“Many people find it quite healing to be this far away from the rest of society, myself included.” You don’t have time to ponder the ramifications of that sentence because she stops suddenly at the door of a building.

“Here we are.” She pulls out a set of keys and unlocks the door, bringing you through and reaching to flip on a nearby light switch. What meets your eye is a room not unlike the school nurse’s office you frequented in your youth. You stand awkwardly in place as Lottie rummages around, gathering various medical supplies. “Sit.” She gestures to the bed. You hesitate briefly but a stern look from Lottie has you moving to do as she says. You wring your hands together nervously, always one to be uncomfortable in any medical situation, even one as unconventional as this. You think back to the weeks after your rescue. Each and every one of your surviving teammates had to stay in that hospital. You tense at the thought of it. She lays a gentle hand over yours. “It’s alright, I’m just going to clean your scrapes and bandage them up.”

“Right, sorry.” Your hands still and you fight the urge to fidget in another way to compensate. You settle on chewing at your bottom lip. Lottie is quick and precise as she takes some kind of antibacterial wipe and gently cleans your wounded skin. She rubs some antibiotic ointment over the worst of the scrapes and then carefully wraps some gauze around each wrist, securing them with a bit of medical tape.

“There, see? All better.”

“Thanks, Lottie.” She hums in acknowledgement and reaches a hand out. You take it instinctively, almost scoffing at your own compliance but following her regardless. The two of you walk in silence, both lost in thought. Eventually you come upon a seemingly random cabin, only distinguishable from the others by the number on the door. 296.

“I trust you’ll be alright until morning without further incident?” You nod sheepishly. “Good… sleep well, darling. If you need anything before then, my cabin is just over that way.” She gestured vaguely to your left but in the dark it’s hard to make out anything in the distance. “Number 320.” She brings a hand up to cup your cheek briefly before nodding once and turning to leave. You stand there on the porch, dumbfounded for a moment, before shaking your head and begrudgingly deciding to go in and at least try to get some rest.

As you enter the space you take notice of the fact that it looks overall much nicer than the one you initially woke up in. It’s fully furnished and decorated nicely. There seems to be a living area, a bedroom, a bathroom and a small kitchen as well. Maybe, you decide, living here for a bit won’t be too bad. You look in the closet, hoping for a change of clothes before you resign yourself to sleeping either in jeans or without pants. To your surprise it’s stocked. A monochrome wardrobe of purple. You shrug, thinking you’ll take what you can get and pick out something to sleep in. Once you’re changed you flop bonelessly into the bed, sighing deeply at the mess of a day you’ve had. Exhaustion hits you hard and you damn near immediately fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.

_________________________________________________

The morning rays of sun peek through the curtains of your room, shining on your face. You wake slowly, not yet fully processing where exactly you are. Blinking blearily, you rub the sleep from your eyes. A groan escapes you as the events of last night fully register in your tired brain. You lay there for a moment, palm to forehead before giving yourself a mental pep talk. ‘It’s going to be fine. There’s nothing weird going on, just a friendly group of… purple people. Totally not a cult run by an ex.’

With a yawn you haul yourself out of bed, mentally preparing yourself for the day ahead. You take off the bandages on your wrists and inspect the damage. The bruises look worse but the scrapes have scabbed over and you think you can leave them uncovered as they finish healing. You eventually decide to shower before facing whatever fresh hell Lottie has cooked up and search around for towels. You find them in a hall closet, more purple. You shrug, it’s definitely not the weirdest thing about this place. Taking one from the stack you make your way to the bathroom. You start the water and undress while waiting for it to heat up. Avoiding your reflection in the mirror, you step under the stream. You sigh, standing motionless under the falling water for a moment before mechanically going through your shower routine. Thankfully like the closet, the shower is stocked with anything one might need and you gladly use the products provided. Once finished, you turn off the water and step out, drying off with your towel. You grab another set of clothing from the closet and get dressed, only slightly perturbed at the fact that everything seems to be in your size. Once ready, you approach the door, taking one last deep breath before stepping outside.

Despite the urge to stay hidden away in your cabin, you want to walk around and get a feel for the general layout of the ‘intentional community’ Lottie has created here. As you walk, a few people pass you by, all dressed in purple and donning friendly smiles. It’s almost unsettling, how happy everyone seems.

“Y/n?” A voice behind you causes you to startle slightly. You turn and are met with the sight of a girl maybe a few years younger than you sporting a nervous looking smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you! My name is Lisa, Charlotte wanted me to find you and give you a tour.”

“Right… listen, I appreciate it but there’s really no need, I’m not planning on staying long.” Lisa frowns, fidgeting with her hands.

“She insisted.” You fight the urge to roll your eyes, deciding to put the poor girl out of her misery and agree to the damn tour. “Great! We’ll start with the common area…” Minutes pass as she leads you through the compound and despite feeling slightly bad about it, you tune out most of what Lisa is saying in favor of wondering what the hell you’re doing here and why you haven’t just left yet. Your thoughts are halted as you realize Lisa is looking at you expectantly, as if waiting for an answer to a question. You nod, hoping it was a yes or no. She sighs. “You haven’t been listening, have you?” Your initial instinct is to deny it but honestly you don’t have the energy for that today.

“I’m sorry, I…”

“It’s okay, it’s a big adjustment, I get that.”

“You do?” You ask, a bit shocked if you’re honest.

“Of course I do. Becoming almost completely cut off from the rest of the world like this isn’t easy. We try to ease people into things, make the transition as smooth as possible but in your case I’m sure it’s been a rough adjustment. For the first week or so you’ll have a chance to settle in and get used to how we operate here, you won’t have many mandatory groups until later on.”

“Pause…” You pinch the space between your brows. “Mandatory what?” You hope to god you didn’t hear what you think you did. She looks sheepish and you brace yourself for her answer.

“Right, I guess no one’s really filled you in yet.” She takes a breath, “Here at Camp Green Pine we focus on healing through community. That includes mandatory group therapy and recreation. You’ll be given a schedule at some point later today, I’m sure.”

You can’t help but feel a bit indignant. Not only have you been essentially kidnapped but now you’re also being forced to confront your problems in a group setting?? What kind of fuckass cult have you gotten yourself roped into? Lottie has a lot of explaining to do.

“Yeah… it’s definitely gonna be a no on the group therapy thing for me, I’ve been through enough counseling to last a lifetime.” Your mind involuntarily flashes back to the months after you were first rescued. How after the hospital, everyone’s parents made them go through therapy to process everything that had happened. The thing is, no one even really knew what it was you were all supposed to be processing. Sure, the trauma of the crash itself and the deaths that came with it but everything that followed? That was the real horror. The group made a pact of silence. No one was to share any details of what happened out there. You were all well aware of the agreed upon consequences that would befall whoever spoke up. Vague generalizations were fine, lies were encouraged. Anything to keep the truth a secret.

“Y/n?” Lisa’s hesitant voice snaps you back into the present.

“Right, I appreciate the tour but I think I’m good to explore the rest on my own.” You feel a bit bad brushing her off like this, especially when she makes a face not unlike a sad puppy but you stay firm in your decision.

“Oh, okay, um… I— I guess I’ll see you later? You missed breakfast but lunch will be in about half an hour in the dining hall.”

“Got it, good to know.” You make a note to avoid the dining hall at all costs in approximately thirty minutes and go on your way.

_________________________________________________

As you explore, you take notice of the fact that surrounding area that seemed so vast and daunting in the dark is actually quite beautiful during the daytime. You wander around for a while, admiring the nature around you. Eventually you find a stream. Thinking it must connect to the lake you saw near the dining hall you decide to follow it back in the direction you came from as you’ve surely succeeded in skipping lunch with everyone by now. You head to the kitchens to grab some food and then sneak back to your cabin, keen on continuing to avoid the frankly creepy cult members Lottie has acquired.

Once back in your cabin you rummage around and find a pen and a notebook, thinking it might be a good idea to do some journaling. It’s something you picked up from Shauna in the wilderness and despite the two of you having some issues, you never quite shook the habit. Amidst the words you doodle mindlessly, adding in some sketches here and there. Time slips away and you don’t even notice until the sun begins to fade, darkening the room you’re in. Fatigue hits you like a truck and you can’t help but crawl into bed. You’re on the verge of sleep when you hear a timid knocking at the door to your cabin. You ignore it, hoping whoever it is will take the hint and fuck off but after a few seconds it becomes clear that that hope is futile when the knocking sounds again. You groan and pry yourself out of bed, shuffling tiredly towards the door. Opening it, you find Lisa. She sports a concerned frown as she takes in the sight of you.

“Hey, is everything okay? I noticed you weren’t at lunch… or dinner.” You sag a bit, your previous anger at her for keeping you from falling asleep fading.

“Yeah, I’m alright, I— I don’t know, I didn’t really feel like eating with everyone.” She furrows her brow.

“I know it can be intimidating but I promise everyone is super welcoming. It’s important to start building on your relationships here.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” An awkward pause follows, neither of you really sure what to say. You break the silence. “I appreciate you checking in but I’m doing fine.”

She unfortunately sees right through you. “It’s okay if you’re not, you know. Everyone here is a work in progress, we all have our days.” She laughs lightly. “I mean god, when I first got here? I was in a pretty rough spot and it showed. I was probably a total nightmare to deal with.”

“Why did you come? Did Lottie snatch you up too?”

She thinks for a second. “I had tried the traditional route of therapy and meds but… nothing had ever really made much of a difference.” She crosses her arms and takes a breathe. “To be honest I was running out of options. I heard of Camp Green Pine from people in town talking about Sunshine Honey and managed to track them down at the street market. We got to talking and… I don’t know, I guess something just resonated. I felt truly hopeful again for the first time in years and I joined not long after.”

You hesitate, “And you… like it here? You think it’s helping you?”

“You don’t have to sound so skeptical, Charlotte’s done a great job with this place. It’s really making a difference and helping people heal.”

“Somehow I doubt it’s that simple.”

She makes a face, as if trying to figure out how far to push you. “You and Charlotte… there seems to be a bit of history there.”

You huff, “That’s certainly one way of putting it.” A beat passes. “Is there a question?” You can’t help but be a bit defensive.

“Sorry.” She backs down, “I guess it’s not really my place.” You hum in acknowledgment. “Well, um… I guess I’ll let you get some rest. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

She frowns at your noncommittal response. “Goodnight, Y/n”

“Night.” You close the door and go back to bed, all but collapsing into it. Sleep comes quickly and you’re out like a light.

_________________________________________________

You struggle to have a moment of peace, even in your sleep. Ever since the plane crash you’ve had recurring nightmares. In the wilderness you would wake up sobbing so often that the group eventually had you sleep alone in the attic to avoid waking everyone else. It was Lottie who eventually figured out how best to calm you down from that state. She would sleep next to you and take it upon herself to help soothe you whenever you had nightmares. Even once the cabin burned down, you and Lottie shared a hut, growing inseparable. After your rescue you were a mess. Lottie had been sent off to god knows where and you were left hopeless and alone. Things got so bad that your parents eventually sent you away to an institution where you spent years of your life in various therapies in the hopes to “cure” you. Over time you learned how to better compartmentalize and shove certain memories down in your mind where you could no longer reach them. The nightmares stopped with your trauma successfully locked away. It was better like this, your parents were happy and everyone assumed you were back to your normal self. You were fine. Until tonight that is.

Winter (1996)

You’re running. You have to get away because if you don’t they’ll catch you. You won’t survive, you’re way outnumbered. If you fight one of them, though— maybe there’s a chance. You heave for breath as you run, the gold around your neck feels suffocating and you fight the urge to rip it off. The wilderness chose you, but maybe… maybe you can make it reconsider. If it spared Nat’s life then who’s to say things can’t work out for you as well. You pause, hiding for a brief moment. It’s freezing outside and the wind bites at your exposed skin. You contemplate, your mind working faster than ever. Fighting won’t work, even if you manage to corner one of them alone then what? Kill them? You can’t, not directly at least. If brute force won’t work you’ll have to figure out a way to outsmart them, you weren’t a straight A student for nothing. A trap, you decide, that’s the only way you’ll make it out of this alive. The sounds of the pack grow closer, shouts morph into animalistic howls and you cover your mouth to keep from sobbing audibly.

A moment passes and you decide it’s now or never. You bolt from behind the tree and sprint as hard as your legs will allow. A solid force tackles you from the side. You look up and of course it’s Shauna. Fuck. Any of the others you could’ve potentially handled but Shauna? You’re fucked. She swings the knife towards your neck and you block it with your arm. It slices deep into your flesh and you cry out as blood gushes from the wound. Shauna takes advantage of your distraction by pinning you down and holding the knife to your neck. The look in her eyes is borderline feral and you’re sure that if you manage to make it out of this alive it will haunt you for the rest of your life.

“Shauna, please…” You whisper, desperate to get through to her without alerting the others.

“Shut up!”, She practically growls, pressing the knife further into you. The noises from the others surround the two of you, closing in. She repositions the knife in her hands, holding it above her head. The fact that you can no longer see even small hints of the girl you once knew is devastating. Except… there! A slight hesitation, for just a split second she falters. In that moment you manage to free one of your hands and swing at her as hard as you can. The hit lands square on her cheekbone and you twist, forcing her off of you while she’s distracted.

Present

You wake with a start, jolting up in bed. You pant heavily, realizing that you’re dripping with sweat. Your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest and you tremble violently. It takes several minutes to stave off the impending panic attack that typically hits you after a nightmare as vivid as this one. Almost subconsciously, you hold your arm close to your chest. The jagged scar running up it is a testament to your near miss with death that day. A quick check of the alarm clock on the nightstand confirms your suspicions. It’s nearly 5 in the morning and you won’t be getting any more sleep tonight.

As much as it pains you to do so, you can’t help but remember the events from your dream in excruciating detail. Despite your best efforts to keep things buried, every once in a while they resurface. Not completely of course, but just enough to leave you reeling each time. Journaling, you think, might help to lock things back up where they’re meant to be. To you it feels as if you’re extracting the memories straight from your mind and forcing them onto the paper where they can no longer torment you. You write until your hand cramps and the words blur on the page. Putting your pen and notebook to the side you flop back down in bed. The sun has only just begun to rise. You wonder if it might be best to go back to sleep now and skip what you can of the day. At least it would save you the effort of avoiding people. And hey, maybe if you keep this up you’ll never have to confront the fact that you’re essentially being held captive at a wilderness retreat run by Lottie Matthews of all people.

_________________________________________________

The next few days pass with little incident. You follow the same routine of minimal participation and if possible all out avoidance. To your honest and absolute shock, there’s been no word from Lottie since your first night at the compound. You’re… not really sure what to do with that. Lisa is still making an effort to include you which while nice of her is making things more complicated. What you really want is to disappear… just for a little while. But if that were really true, you suppose you would’ve left day one instead of sticking around. You see, the real truth is that you’re lost. You’ve been lost for years, maybe even since the wilderness. So instead of running for the hills like usual, you stay and observe.

Of course that doesn’t keep you from getting fed up every once in a while. For instance, the group session you’re in today. You decided to show up to avoid suspicion but it’s of a lecture than anything and you find it to be extremely irritating. A pale, middle aged man drones on and on about how he believes there are no truly bad experiences in life. How everything we go through as humans shapes us into who we are, therefore making pain necessary. While you agree to some extent you can’t help but scoff loudly, rolling your eyes and shaking your head, storming off into the woods. What you don’t notice is Lottie watching from the corner of the room with a frown on her face. Unbeknownst to you, she follows.

You make your way to a recently discovered spot in the woods. It’s a bit of a ways away and secluded, with a nice big rock to sit on and watch the stream go by. You pace, feeling anxious and restless while trying to keep creeping thoughts of the wilderness at bay. It’s become harder lately to ignore them. You don’t even notice the fact that you’re chewing on your bottom lip until you taste the familiar tang of blood in your mouth. You hear the snap of a twig behind you and turn sharply, startled. Lottie stands there, looking uncharacteristically timid.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, unintentionally accusatory.

She hums, “I could ask you the same question seeing as you’re supposed to be in the midst of one of our riveting wellness groups right now.”

“Riveting is certainly one way of putting it.” You grumble.

She chuckles lightly, moving closer and for a moment you’re struck by how little has changed when it comes to your attraction to her. You can’t help but feel entranced by her, just like you always were. If she catches you staring, she’s kind enough not to mention it, instead switching the subject. “How are you finding it here, Y/n, be honest.”

“It’s… fine. Different.” You keep your answer intentionally short. She sees right through it.

“After all of these years you’d think you would’ve gotten a bit better at lying, my darling.” You shuffle uncomfortably at being called out. Before you can come up with a retort she speaks again, catching you off guard. “I’m sorry.” The apology confuses you.

“For what?” You cross your arms, trying to keep your defenses up.

“I had assumed, given our history, it would be easier for you to settle in than the others. I’m sorry I misjudged.” Lottie reaches both hands out and strokes up and down your arms

“I’m not sure I understand…”

“You’re clearly struggling, my love. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

“But…” You try to interject but she cuts you off.

“I have my ways of keeping tabs on people here, especially when they’re old friends of mine.”

“Friends.” You scoff, “Is that what we are?”

Lottie hums, smiling. “No… I suppose not.” She tilts her head and her hands go still, resting on your shoulders. “In fact, I’d say you and I are much more than friends, wouldn’t you?” You can’t help the heat that rises to your face at her words. You look down, avoiding her eyes, but she lifts a hand to your chin and tilts your head back up to meet her gaze. Her thumb strokes your cheek and you sigh. She takes a breath before speaking again. “Aren’t you tired of running, Y/n?” You can’t help but close your eyes, your face crumpling slightly. You take a shaky breath before speaking.

“I…” Your voice cracks. “What other choice do I have?” Once you start, the rest spills out. All of your doubts, your worries, everything you’ve been holding in. “If I stop, it’ll get me, I know it will and I can’t— I can’t let it… I’ll be consumed in one way or another and a part of me thinks it was always going to happen. I drew the queen that day. It was supposed to be me who died.” A tear falls from your eyes and Lottie wipes it away with her thumb. “Lottie, I don’t think I was meant to survive that.”

She hushes you gently. “How could you say such a thing? It was the wilderness that spared you, saved you. It saved all of us who survived.”

“Did it?” You interject. “Because it didn’t feel that way.” You prepare yourself to confess something you’ve never told anyone. “I set a trap, Lot. I outsmarted Gen and she died in my place. I killed her. The Wilderness didn’t spare me, I killed someone to save myself.” The words feel sour on your tongue but the relief of finally telling someone is immense.

She smiles tearfully. “You think I didn’t know that? I knew you would find a way to stay alive that day, I willed it to be so. And besides, it wouldn’t let you die, it liked you too much. You were one of the few people who knew how to listen but the others were suspicious. They thought I was favoring you, protecting you from the draw in some way. The wilderness did what needed to be done to cement your place at my side while preventing a rebellion. You were never in any real danger.”

“Well I sure as shit thought I was!” You yell, exasperated. “What about Shauna?? Did the wilderness plan on her taking a knife to my fucking neck? She was going to kill me, Lottie!”

“But she didn’t. Have you never wondered why?”

“Of course I’ve wondered. But what good does that do me? Shauna having one single moment of hesitation could mean absolutely nothing.”

“Or… it could mean everything. It could mean the wilderness gave you a chance to escape. To live.” She seems so resolute in her belief that it makes you doubt your version of events.

“So if it doesn’t want me dead, then what? Another draw? Another sacrifice? You know as well as I do it won’t stop there. In fact it sounds to me like the only way it’ll ever be satisfied is if all of us die. Almost like we were never meant to make it out in the first place.”

“What are you saying?”

You sigh deeply, losing steam. “I don’t know.” You pull back, moving just enough to be out of her reach. “I can’t hear it anymore, Lottie. I know it’s there— I feel it. But I can’t listen the way I did before.”

She furrows her brow before seemingly coming to a decision. “Close your eyes.”

“What? No, I…”

“Close them.” You hesitate for a moment. Realistically you could walk away, go back to your cabin or leave altogether. Return to your semi normal life. No wilderness, no weird purple cult… no Lottie. You close your eyes. “Good. Now, tell me…. what do you hear?”

You take some deep breaths, centering yourself. “I hear the water from the stream, I hear the wind rustling through the trees, I hear my voice.”

“What do you feel?”

“I feel the ground beneath my feet, I feel the sun warming my skin.” She steps closer to you.

“Keep your eyes closed… what do you see?”

“I see… the team playing soccer. I see Jackie scoring the winning goal. I see myself packing for nationals.” Your voice grows shaky and hesitant.

“Keep going, you’re doing a good job.”

“I see the plane, we’re flying… no. We’re falling.” You continue, picking up speed, not even fully aware of the words leaving your mouth. “It’s crashing, down down down, into the trees. I see fire, the lake, the cabin. It’s there, it’s with us.” You’re frantic, now. “More fire, it doesn’t want us to leave. And then, and then the cold. But the wilderness provides a feast. It’s still hungry, it wants more, it wants— blood. A hunt.” You open your eyes, shaking violently. “It wants a hunt.” Tears run down your face and Lottie pulls you into a hug.

“It’s okay, you’re alright.”

You shake your head in disagreement. “None of this is alright. I— Lottie I’m scared.”

“I’ll keep you safe, love, you don’t have to worry.”

You pull back, looking her in the eyes. “It’s not me I’m scared for.” You say softly, your face scrunched up.

She tilts her head. “What do you mean?”

You try to brush it off and hope she lets it go. “I just have a bad feeling, that’s all.”

“Maybe that’s all it is; a feeling.” She attempts to reassure you.

“Yeah, maybe.” You feel completely wrung out, having forgotten how much energy it takes to tap into the wilderness like that. Lottie can clearly sense that there’s something else weighing on you but seeing how exhausted you look, she decides to leave it be for now.

“Come, it’s nearly time for dinner and I know you haven’t been eating as much as you should be.” Damn her. She turns, holding out a hand for you to take. The two of you walk hand-in-hand back to the main area of the compound but when you move towards the dining hall she gently tugs you past it to her own cabin.

When you step inside her cabin you’re taken aback at how every inch of it is so very Lottie. From the tapestries on the walls to the beaded curtains separating rooms it all has a unique touch to it, like every corner was filled with intention and care. Parts of it remind you of her childhood bedroom and it makes you want to cry a little bit, the fact that so little has changed. You stand frozen near the entrance as she rummages around in the kitchen, gathering ingredients. Lottie seemingly knows her way around a kitchen which is only a slight bit surprising to you. Cooking almost seemed beneath Lottie and you honestly would’ve assumed that she had someone to do things like that for her. But here she was, whipping up a meal from scratch, partly due to the fact that you haven’t eaten yet. She must catch sight of you still standing motionless out of the corner of her eye because she pauses to guide you to a seat before resuming meal preparations. You watch on in awe as she seemingly effortlessly whips up a full meal for the two of you. She hums the occasional mindless tune while cooking and you can’t help but fall a little bit further for her. It’s hard to know where you stand with Lottie but you can only hope that things work out— for both of you.

As she adds the final touches to the meal you admire how peaceful she looks. Confident, too. Completely in her element in ways you never would’ve expected. Evidently you become lost in thought because when you blink back to reality, Lottie is looking at you with an exasperated fondness.

You clear your throat. “Sorry?”

“I said I hope you like pasta, I’m a little low on groceries at the moment and the next shipment won’t be until tomorrow.”

“Oh, yes. Pasta. Love it.” You stammer awkwardly before gathering your thoughts. “Honestly, it smells amazing Lottie.” She absolutely beams at the compliment and you damn near swoon. She brings over two plates and sits next to you.

You both eat in comfortable silence, basking in each other’s presence. As much as you would absolutely deny it if asked you’ve always found comfort in Lottie, even before everything happened. You remember the first time you saw her. You had moved to Wiskayok midway through your sophomore year of high school, making it a rather difficult adjustment. You had been there a week and still hadn’t really connected with anyone or formed any new friendships due to your shy nature. You were at your locker one day while she was walking down the hall with Taissa, coaching her through asking out a crush— some redhead. It was as if subconsciously you could feel her approaching because just as she passed by, you turned and accidentally made eye contact. She was the most beautiful girl you’d ever seen and you knew right away that would mean trouble. It was honestly pure coincidence that you tried out for the same sport. You’d played a lot of soccer all throughout your childhood and hoped for that same sense of community and teamwork. You and Lottie both made the varsity team and the rest was history. Junior year you had several classes together and decided to become study buddies to help each other pass the harder courses. Growing closer over the years did absolutely nothing to curb your crush but you hid it to the best of your ability.

And then the crash.

It felt like everything— your whole life, collapsed in on itself. There was so much emotion the first few days that you barely spoke a word to anyone. It wasn’t until that day at the lake that you managed to talk a bit with Lottie about everything that was going on. She was your rock out there. So when she started having visions you were the first to take her word for it. You would follow her anywhere and do anything for her, she just had to say the word. And then, be it psychosis or spiritual awakening, you heard it too. You became Lottie’s right hand in the wilderness, worshipping those hungry spirits. You never faltered, never had even a single moment of doubt in your faith.

With rescue came devastation and in turn left you a broken shell of your former self. You spent years trying to convince yourself it was all in your head, that you were desperate for some form of hope to cling onto so you created a religion of false gods that demanded you do terrible things to survive. It only worked to a certain extent but it was enough to convince your family you were back to your normal (if not heavily traumatized) self.

Lottie clears her throat and you realize you’ve been staring into space instead of eating. “You alright, Y/n?”

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You sigh, picking up your fork and finally tasting the food she made. You bite back a moan as the flavors melt on your tongue. She looks pleased at your reaction for a moment before her face clouds over with an expression of worry.

“When’s the last time you had a proper meal?” Her question catches you by surprise and you struggle to come up with a believable lie to soothe her concern. “If you have to think about it, it’s been too long.” She says sternly. Unable to think of a decent response you shrug, curling in on yourself a bit and tucking back into your meal. “You need to take better care of yourself… I worry about you.”

“I’m sorry.” You sag, feeling like you’ve disappointed her in some way. “It’s just— I don’t know, it’s hard sometimes.”

“To eat?”

“To do anything. I just feel so… heavy sometimes. Like the weight of everything—everything we went through, everything we did, is just… holding me down.”

“Sweetheart… come here.” She pulls you towards her, guiding you to lean your head on her shoulder. She strokes your hair, speaking softly. “I can help you, you know. If you let me in, I can help you.”

You nod, giving in. “Okay.” You finish the rest of the meal with Lottie’s arm around you. It all feels rather domestic and you can’t help but wish for more nights like this with her. When you’re both done eating you make a move to clear the dishes and wash everything in the sink but Lottie stops you.

“You don’t have to do that, let me.” She chides gently.

“I want to.” You reassure. “And besides, it’s only fair after you cooked such an amazing meal.” She smiles, her face flushing slightly. It’s reminiscent of your youth and your chest aches fiercely with affection for her. The truth of the matter is that all of the things you felt for Lottie back then still exist within you. You don’t think you could get rid of them if you tried. So instead, you decide to embrace them. “Here, we can do them together. I’ll wash, you dry.” She acquiesces with a nod and you find a rhythm washing the dishes together.

You finish up, drying your hands on a towel and leaning against the counter as Lottie puts the last of dishes away. “I’ve missed you, you know that?” The words slip out before you can stop them. She looks at you thoughtfully.

“I’ve missed you too, love.”

“So uh, what next? What does this mean for us?”

“I’ve never been one to feel the need for labels, I find them constricting.” Your mix of confusion and slight disappointment must show on your face because she elaborates. “Call it what you want, girlfriends, partners, lovers, as long as you know that you’re mine… just as much as I am yours in return.”

“Really? You mean that?”

“Of course I do.” She assures. You pull her into a hug, clutching onto her tightly. She holds you, swaying gently while you cling to her. It’s comfortable, familiar. You really had missed her. She was always so caring towards you, in ways you had never experienced before Lottie. “It’s late, darling…” You pull away, suddenly feeling like you’ve overstayed your welcome.

“Of course, sorry, I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Don’t do that, don’t pull away again, I wasn’t finished.” She brings you in close again, her hands on your waist. “I was going to suggest you borrow something to sleep in and stay here for the night.”

“Oh…” Your face heats up in embarrassment, you have a habit of jumping to conclusions.

“Would that be alright with you, love?”

The look she gives you has any excuse you could’ve come up with dying on your tongue. You nod, letting her lead the way to her bedroom. She opens her closet and you balk, the amount of silk dresses and flowing kaftans is absolutely absurd. She slides them to the side searches for something you can borrow. She eventually settles on a matching satin set of pants and a tank top and hands them to you, her eyes searching for your approval.

“These are perfect, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. There’s a bathroom through there if you would like to change privately. There should also be a spare toothbrush under the sink and you’re more than welcome to use any of the skincare products.”

You go to the bathroom, changing your clothes first. The pants are a bit long but comfortable enough that you don’t care. You find the spare toothbrush and brush your teeth, washing your face with one of Lottie’s fancy cleansers afterwards. You moisturize and decide that’s good enough, at least for tonight. Leaving the bathroom, you go back to the bedroom. You freeze when you see her. She’s now wearing a satin nightgown that falls to around her mid thigh. You drink in the sight of her, feeling rather like a blushing teen. She must sense your presence because she turns, smiling at the sight of you in her clothes. She always was a bit possessive.

“Did you find everything okay?”

“I did, yeah. Thanks.” She pulls back the covers and crawls into the bed. You shuffle, only just now realizing she intends for you to share.

“Come, it’s late and I know you’re more tired than you’re letting on.”

And who are you to argue? You walk around to the other side and follow suit, making yourself comfortable. Lottie turns off the bedside lamp, casting the room into darkness. Slight hints of moonlight peak through the curtains, illuminating her face just enough for you to make out her expressions. She looks unsettled, maybe a bit restless. You move a bit closer to her and reach out, taking one of her hands in yours.

“Goodnight, Lottie.”

“Goodnight.”

You fall asleep, still clutching her hand.

_________________________________________________

Lottie looks at you, admiring how peaceful you seem. She thinks over what you said. A hunt. Well that’s not an option— not again… not when she isn’t sure the two of you would be protected in the same ways you were before. She wasn’t lying when she said she didn’t favor you or protect you from the draw, both you and Lottie were the only ones that could hear the wilderness back then and as such had its favor. But circumstances had changed. You’d both left it, abandoned it and she was worried it might come back to bite you. She knows what she must do.

Slipping out of the bed, she gently removes her hand from yours and smiles gently as you curl up, hugging a pillow. She finds a pair of shoes and a knife, leaving the cabin and walking the familiar path to an old tree stump in the woods. There are several old candles in a circle around it and next to it is a pack of matches. She carefully strikes a match and lights each candle one by one. She takes a deep breath, centering herself. Approaching the makeshift alter, Lottie takes a knife to her non-dominant hand. “Please let this be enough.” She begs, slicing into her palm. Barely noticing the sting, she squeezes her hand, letting the blood drip onto the tree stump below.

When you wake up, you’re not immediately sure why. As you gain a sense of your surroundings you realize you’re alone. You reach towards where Lottie was when you fell asleep, feeling the cold sheets. She must’ve left not long after you fell asleep, you frown. Something is wrong, you’re sure of it.

You throw on a jacket and some shoes, preparing yourself to find her. Eventually, while searching the nearby area of forest you see a thinner path that looks less frequented. You follow it, letting your intuition lead you. It’s there that you find Lottie, knelt on the ground as the last hours of darkness bleed into morning. Her cheeks are stained with dried tear tracks and her hand sports a deep cut straight across the center of her palm. The blood crusted around the wound hints at how long she’s been there and you approach her quietly, careful not to startle her. You crouch down beside her and lay a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Lottie…” The concern bleeds into your tone and when she looks up you can’t help but sigh softly at how lost she seems.

“This has to be enough— blood, it wanted blood, that’s what you said. I gave it what it wants.” It sounds like she’s trying to convince herself. You and her both know it doesn’t work like that but you hope, just this once, it can be satisfied with a bit of spilled blood rather than a full on draw.

You help her up, supporting some of her weight as you bring her to the nurse’s station. You’re both silent as you walk. She seems shaken and you can’t really blame her. You feel absolutely awful that you had a hand in making her spiral like this. The things you said yesterday after what you saw? They were clearly bound to affect her in some way and the fact that you were too blinded by your own feelings to notice makes you feel slightly sick to your stomach. You wish she would’ve opened up to you instead of putting up a front and helping you to her own detriment. The two of you used to be so in tune but now? It’s evident that the years of separation have done damage to your ability to communicate with each other.

You open the door to the nurses station and shuffle Lottie inside, sitting her down and grabbing supplies. The thought that it was not long ago that she was doing this for you strikes you. It feels like so much has changed since that first night at the compound. You gather similar supplies, gauze, tape, antiseptic, and antibiotic ointment. She hisses at the sting of the antiseptic and you breathe a sigh of relief as she seems to have regained awareness.

“I’m sorry, it’s almost done.” You slather on some of the antibiotic ointment and tape a bit of gauze to her palm, securing it with a small roll of cloth wrapped around her hand. “There, all better…” You hold her bandaged hand between two of yours, wishing you could do more to help her.

“Thank you, Y/n.” She says solemnly. You hum in acknowledgment, bringing her hand up to press a kiss against it. You’ll be okay, you think. Both of you… eventually.

You hope.

_________________________________________________

Author’s note:

so uhh that’s it! please let me know if you like it, i have plans for a second part that i’ll continue to work on :)

[wandanatsthings]

𝐒𝐭����𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝

Hey guys so this post might contradict my last but this is something I struggled with and thought others might be able to relate So I thought i'd share. Hope you enjoy it, feedback is always welcomed. New writer. 

(P.s Im dyslexic i'm trying my best) 

Word count: 2.7k 

Warnings: Mentions of body type/weight (not specific #), not eating, speaks of being ambushed but does not go into detail. Working out, angst and fluff. Missing S/O. Cursing.  Panic attack maybe?/ breaking down sobbing. Stress. I think that’s it. Please let me know if I  miss anything :) 

Summary: Reader stressed out and doesn’t have an appetite while Wanda and Natasha are away on a mission. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n Pov

You had just gotten home from a long day at work where nothing had gone your way. It started with the mission reports that you swore you had completed going missing. You had torn almost your whole office apart looking for them. You just could not find them. You had finally accepted the fact that your work day would be spent redoing mission reports. When you got word that you would be sent on a mission to receive some data from Hydra that SHIELD needed. You usually didn’t complain about going on missions but with the mission reports that needed to be redone on top of the report you were going to have to write for this mission to say you were dreading it would be the least, but you packed up, got on your suit and went outside to the landing pad where the quin-jet was right there waiting for you.

When you got there you were able to get the files you needed. The problem only came when you were trying to leave. The heater sensor on your suit detected hydra agents right where you needed to go to get to the jet and by your heat sensor flashing red like crazy you could tell that there were a lot of them. You took a deep breath and started to walk towards them. The closer you got you could count that it was a total of 10 of them. “I can do this,” you said to yourself. The agent closest to you was to the right with his back turned so he couldn’t see you. You decided that now would be a good time to try out your girlfriend's widow bites that she had given you weeks prior. You threw one out towards him and watched it take effect.

That went well you thought but as you went to do the same to the other agents that had their backs to you, You had been spotted. They all came running towards you, some with their weapons drawn, others ready to avenge you with their fist. Luckily after a long gruesome fight, you were able to get back to the jet with all the information Furry needed. You had some scrapes and bruises but honestly, you didn't care. All you wanted to do was get back to Nat and Wanda. After the long shitty day you had, you decided that the mission reports could wait until a later date. When you got back to the Avengers compound furry was already waiting for you at the landing pad with his hand out for the flash drive that contains all the information SHIELD required.

“Do you have the file and what the hell happened to you?” furry said with a curious look on his face. “Yes I have the files and to answer your question I was ambushed.” You said anxiously to get back to your living corridors to shower and finally be with your girlfriends. “Well are you okay?” he asked. Now furry wasn't the type to show his emotions but you had become his daughter much like Natasha so it didn’t surprise you when he voiced his concerns. “Yes I'm fine, just a couple of scrapes and bruises, nothing I can’t handle.” you reassured him. “Okay well, if it becomes anything more go see Dr. Banner and thank you.” With that, he walked away to go wherever furry goes and you headed to your floor where you hoped your lovers would be waiting for you.

When you got there though you were surprised to hear that the house was fully quiet. Are they home? You wondered. To answer your question, you walked farther into the kitchen and you saw a note on the counter. You grab the note, open it and what you read makes your heart sink. “Hi Detka, we're sorry we are not there to welcome you home. We got called on a short mission and should be back by the end of tonight to have dinner with you. Also, I (Wanda) made your favorite for lunch. It's in the fridge, heat it when you're ready. Xoxo Wands & Natty.” You put the note back down on the counter with a sigh. You understood how random missions could be. I mean you just went on an unexpected one yourself but you really wanted your girlfriends to hold you after the crappy day you had and they weren't here. Now you know that's not their fault but you couldn't help but feel just a little disappointed. You walked to the fridge to get the lunch your sweet witch had made for you and when you pulled it out you saw yet another note sitting on top of the cling wrap plate. You took the note off the plate and put it into the microwave so it could heat while you read the note. “Hi Detka, I hope you got our first note again we're sorry but I made your favorite. We love you!” You smiled at that. You love that they took the time to leave you notes. To you, it showed how much of a priority they thought you were.

By the time you finished reading the love-filled note, you heard the microwave beep. You got the food out, stopped by the drawer by the sink to grab yourself a spoon, and made your way to the dining room table to enjoy a meal that your wonderful girlfriend made. It made you chuckle when you thought back to how Wanda specified that it was her who made it. Both of you know that Natasha couldn’t cook to save her life. When You take the cling wrap off of the plate. Your stomach turned. It wasn’t the food. No, the food looked amazing. It was you. For some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to eat it. Now this wasn’t new to you. Anytime you had a bad day or things felt out of your control you just wouldn’t have an appetite. It had gotten better when you met your girlfriends. They would always listen to your venting and be there when you needed them. You hadn’t had this problem in a while when they were around. But you were a 24 y/o woman. You were sure you could handle a little stress without your girlfriends coming to your rescue. So you put up the food to come back to it later. While you were waiting for your appetite to come back around you decided to go take a shower and start on all the mission reports you had to get done.

A few hours had passed and it was almost dinner time. You had gotten so caught up in doing your mission reports that you hadn’t even realized that your loves were not back yet. With that, you got up to go ask Tony where they were to see if he had any updates. On your way to Tony’s lab, you stopped at the kitchen to get a water bottle, When you opened the fridge you saw your lunch still sitting there untouched “I'm gonna eat it later.” You said to yourself. When you got to Tony's lab you saw him hunched over looking at what looked like to be floor plans, for what you had no idea but you learned early on in your time here to never ask.

“Hey Tony,” you said approaching him. He looks up from what he’s doing and acknowledges you. “Hey kid, whatcha up too?” “Nothing much, um I was wondering if you had any update on Nat and Wanda? They were supposed to be back by now.” You replied. “No, why do you guys have a hot date planned or something?” He said winking at you. “No, Tony was just wondering where they were.” You say annoyed. He laughs and says “Okay okay um maybe ask Steve? He should know.” “Okay, thank you asshole.” You say with a slight smile on your face as you walk away. “Your welcome ass-hat.” You hear him yell. Although he was a pain in your ass 90% of the time you love the red tin man. You got on the elevator to go find Steve only to realize you had no idea where he was so you asked Friday. “Hey Friday, where’s Steve?” “Steve Rogers is in the gym agent y/l/n.” they reply. “Thanks, Friday.” You say back as you push the gym floor button on the elevator. When you arrive you walk in to see him punching a punching bag. He immediately notices you. “Hey, y/l/n what can I do for you?” He says “Hey cap I was wondering if you had any update on Wanda and Natasha. They said they were going to be back by dinner time. Any idea on where they are?” He looks at you with a sad look on his face. “Yeah, I'm sorry y/n their mission turned out to be not as easy as we thought and they're gonna have to go undercover for a week. Maybe more.” When you hear this your heart drops for a second time this day. “Okay, thanks, Steve.” You say sadly. “You welcome y/n.” He says with a frown on his face knowing how hard it is for you when the 2 red heads are away. When you get back to your floor you decide to call it a night exhausted from the day you've had. As soon as your head hits the pillow you're asleep dreaming that your girlfriends are in the bed with you. While the meal in the fridge sat there waiting to be eaten.

2 weeks. 2 weeks had passed since you saw your girlfriends and since you had a full proper meal. With the stress of work and missing your lovers, you had barely eaten anything more than an apple here and there with some water. Along with that, you had been working out to try and keep your mind off of the fact you hadn’t even talked to them in 2 weeks since it was an undercover no-contact mission. So it was no surprise that that's where you were when they came home.

Wanda’s Pov

When we finally got home after 2 weeks of being undercover all we both wanted was you, food, and a shower. You being the main goal though but when we came into the house it was quiet. We called out to you but no one answered. It was rare that when we returned from the mission you didn’t come running into our arms so excited that we were home so we then decided to ask Friday where you were. “Hey Friday, where's y/n?” “Welcome home Ms. Maximoff and Ms. Romanov. Agent y/l/n is in the gym currently.” They said, “Okay thanks Friday.” I said looking towards Natasha “Let's shower and stuff and then we can go get her and have dinner together.” I say. She nods towards me and says. “Sounds like a plan.” We then make our way to our bathroom to shower.

Nats Pov

After Wands and I shower I headed into the kitchen to get some water while she put on lotion. When I went into the fridge I was surprised to see that the meal Wanda made you still sat in the fridge untouched beside the note being gone. I then looked around more in the fridge to find that nothing else had been touched either. Everything was in the same place as how we left it 2 weeks ago. I then looked around the entire kitchen to come up with the same results. So I called Wanda out here to tell her what I had found and with one look we both raced to the gym to find you. When we got there we could see you through glass, running on the treadmill but when we walked fully inside the sight we saw broke our hearts. You were thin. Like unhealthily thin. Now you weren't even overweight to begin with so with all the working out and barely eating it was enough that within 2 weeks you looked sickly. At the sound of Wanda's gasp when she saw you. You finally noticed them standing there.

Y/n Pov

I was running on the treadmill with my headphones on when I looked up and saw the women I had been longing for for the past 2 weeks. I quickly shut off the treadmill and ran towards them. When I finally reached them I just hugged them, they immediately both hugged me back but something felt off. When I looked up at their faces both of them had tears in their eyes. I let go a little and asked them “What's wrong, Is everything okay? Are you guys hurt?” I say checking over them frantically. When I'm satisfied with my check I look up to them and what comes out of Wanda’s mouth makes my stomach turn."Have you been eating?” she says shakily “What do you mean? Of course, I've been eating.” I say getting a little defensive. “No you haven't’ the meal Wanda left for you before we left is still there and nothing has been moved in the kitchen or the refrigerator. Is everything okay? Are you sick?” Natasha asks. As soon as she asks that You break down in tears. All of the stress of the weeks prior catching up with you all at once. “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,” You say sobbing and falling to the floor. Wanda and Nat both catch you before you can reach the floor and bring you into their laps just holding you and whispering sweet nothings. When you've finally calmed down Natasha is the first one to speak. “Do you wanna tell us what's going on or would you like to talk about it later?” “No, we can talk about it now,” You say, your scratchy voice from crying.

While you're preparing yourself to tell them everything from the past weeks you feel both of them kiss your forehead and that's what gives you the strength to start talking. “Um before you guys left I had been having a rough day. My mission reports had gone missing and they were due soon and I had got sent on a mission that was supposed to be easy but then I got ambushed.” As you say that Wanda interrupts you and asks “Are you okay, did you need to go to medical?” while checking over you just like you had done minutes ago to the both of them.“I'm fine don’t worry,” You say kissing her hands you then continue. “As I was saying I was ambushed and all I wanted was you guys when I got home and you weren’t there. And don't apologize I can feel you both getting ready too. I understand unexpected missions happen and that is not your fault. When I realized you were not there I saw your first note on the counter which I love. When you leave me notes by the way but then I made my way to the fridge to get lunch. I had all intentions of eating it but when I sat down to eat it I just couldn’t.” You then go on to explain to them that when you're stressed out and when things get out of your control you lose your appetite.

After you're finished talking, Wanda begins to speak. “We are so sorry you had to go through that alone, but as long as we're your girlfriends you won’t ever again have to. Maybe we can talk to Bruce and find you some new coping skills to cope with the stress.” She says “Yeah, what do you think about that sweet girl?” Natasha asks you. You look up at them with so much love in your eyes. “I think that’s a great idea, thank you guys,” You said, giving each of them a kiss. “No problem zolotse,” Natasha says with a smile on her face. “How about we get some lunch?” says Wanda. You look up at them with a small bit of fear on your face having not eaten in 2 weeks you were scared of how your stomach would react. “Don't worry love, we’ll be right here with you.” You hear Wanda say. With that, you all start to make your way to your floor to enjoy lunch. With you thinking that no matter how stressed you got you will always have your girlfriends to make it better.

[chiefdirector]

Survival | Tim Bradford | The Rookie

Tim watched, helplessly, as the door closed behind (Y/N). He wanted to follow her, but he knew that any imput form him would be useless at best and detrimental at worse.

It was meant to have been an easy day, he could laugh at that thought now. He had grown comfortable, to comfortable. But he had planned for him and (Y/N) take a long weekend off. He had it all planned out, movies rented and cupboards stocked with more food they they could bost possibly eat.

It had been a long couple of months, both he and (Y/N) swamped with case after case at work. So when the last day came before their time off, Tim's head wasn't in the game. He should have been more focussed, if he had, then he wouldn't be here, sitting in a hospital waiting room, drecnhed in his finacee's blood.

It was his fault.

It was all his fault, he would never forgive himself.

It was nearing end of shift when it happened, he took what sounded like an easy call. If he had paid better attention, he would have known how much of a shit-show he was driving into.

(Y/N) had shot him an odd look when he said that they were responding alone. He had said that they didn't need back-up, it was a simple domestic call.

That's another thing he felt like laughing at. He though it was simple. Simple! If the guilt wasn't sitting so heavily in his chest, he might have actually been able to must some sort of reaction to the thought.

But he felt numb. He knew that he had to trust the doctor's to save her. They had brought him back from the brink of death numerous amounts of times, but it wasn't his life at stake here, it was hers. And if she didn't make it, Tim didn't know how he could forgive himself.

The bullet had scraped her neck, breaking the vein. The couple they had been sent to wasn't just having an arguement. The wife had her partner at gunpoint.

Thankfully, the husband wasn't harmed, (Y/N) had made sure of that. She took the bullet meant for him. She had made a split second descision to put her life in front of his. It was her job to do that, Tim knew all too well. But he knew that it was his job as her fiance to put her above all else and he had failed; he failed her.

The rest of it was a blur to him. He knew from the blood on his hands that he had to have tried to stop her bleeding. He could vaguley picture the ambulance that had come to get her and (Y/N)'s attacker running away before she could be arrested.

Everything else was a mystery. All he knew now was that he was in front of doors forbidding the general public to enter.

"Officer," A voice said from behind him. Quickly, he broke from his thoughts. He turned, looking at the nurse before him, nodding to prompt her to continue. "I don't think she will be out for a while, do you know her next of kin?"

"It's me." His voice was shaky and quiet as his spoke. He just about clocked on that the nurse didn't hear him. He cleared his throat, speaking clearly this time. "It's me, I'm her next of kin."

As he spoke, he felt his thoughts clarify for the first time since he saw (Y/N)'s body crumple to the ground. He was useless here but he knew what he had to do.

Ignoring the nurse as she began to speak again, Tim turn on his heels and left the hospital. (Y/N)'s survival was no longer something he could control, the only thing he could do was to catch the bitch who shot her.

That and pray that she would come back to him.

Masterlist

@rookietrek @kmc1989 @augustvandyne

(i tagged people i thought may like, let me know if you wasnt to be added and/or removed)

[littlestarbigsky]

Can we get some sad Dallas venting to the gang? Can be a blurb or anything 🌺 your writing is incredible

first. thank youuu😭🫶🏻

second. babe babe babeeeeee what’s it like to live inside my brain !! the original idea for this fic has been burning a hole in my wips pile for MONTHS and i’ve been waiting for an excuse to actually write it-

cw: dally’s family sucks, mentions of verbal and physical abuse, talk of sexual harassment and addiction

hope this is okay 🩷

it was dark when dally stumbled up the walkway. he wasn’t too sure where he was going or what he was in for when somebody saw him, he just knew he needed out. he needed to be some place that wasn’t buck’s.

dally had always been one for a bar fight, especially when he drank just enough for the punches not to sting when they landed. the trouble with that was, the pain eventually kicked in, and all of his senses might as well have been dialed to eleven.

one of his ankles was swollen and aching, he wasn’t sure how it had gotten like that, though. his knuckles were all split open, some sliced right down to tendons and muscles. he was sure his face wasn’t in great shape, probably a busted lip, maybe a black eye. the only thing he felt sure of was that his nose wasn’t broken. he’d had enough of those to be able to tell.

dally remembered what it felt like to know something was wrong. he had since the first time he got into it with someone years ago. somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind, he could still feel the blow. he had been young. stupid. too stupid to think better than to pick a fight with his dad when they were both drunk.

he dragged himself up the stairs of the curtis house, his knees going weak underneath him with every step. he barely had the energy to open the door, and when he did, he collapsed over the threshold, his drunken limbs useless and limp.

for a second, dally wondered if he had collapsed into a completely empty house. it was a saturday evening, far too early for dally to have been as drunk as he was. there was every chance darry had taken pony and soda and gotten them out of town for the weekend, the two of them sure weren't rushing to scrape him off their front entryway. a few seconds later though, there were footsteps from the bathroom, and darry's work boots appeared in dally's field of view.

darry sighed deeply. somewhere deep in dally's consciousness, he felt sorry for making a fuss, for raising a scene, because darry knelt down next to dally's head and turned him onto his back.

"you sure this is where you wanna be, dal? i might have to ream ya for showing up like this again."

dally groaned, "shut up, i just need to lay down for a second."

"you're bleeding," darry said simply. not a question, not a plea, just a statement. "what happened?"

"some thirty-something was perving on a girl at buck's," dally admitted. he had always been the one catcalling and flirting, but he drew the line at grown men trying to hit on girls half their age. his idiot sister hadn't been smart enough to get rid of the one doing it to her. sure enough, the bastard got her hooked on all kinds of things, stuff dally couldn't even pronounce when he found the bottles in the bathroom. they had been long past the point of fixing her when he left new york, but he could still do everything in his power to stop them from getting to other little girls.

darry sighed again, "you know, it's hard to buy your whole 'tough guy' act when you go and do decent shit like that."

darry then hoisted dally off the ground and set him back on his feet. dally didn't understand why darry couldn't just carry him all the way to the bathroom if he had already deadlifted him off the floor, but darry would probably just say something about how it would be good for him.

dally was half expecting to end up in soda's abandoned bedroom, but instead darry dragged him to the bathroom and discarded him unceremoniously on the closed toilet seat. dally barely had a second to sit and sulk before darry was tipping his head back and wiping away the dried blood with a warm cloth. his touch was gentle, like he had done this a hundred times. dally knew he had, between him, steve, and two-bit picking fights everywhere they turned

he knew he was worse than those two, getting drunk and getting into fights or scaring the daylights out of the gang every time he disappeared for three days or got thrown in county lockup for a month. he was good for making them jumpy, good at making them worry. a small part of him felt pride but a bigger part of him was sick of himself for it.

darry was so goddamn gentle. one hand wiped away blood that wasn't even dally's while the other pushed his hair back, careful and calm and kinder than anything dally had felt in ages.

maybe it was the pain in his head. maybe it was the booze. maybe it was the fact that if his stupid goddamn sister had someone like him to beat away the pervs, then maybe that asshole wouldn't have been able to give her anything. before dally could gather the wherewithall to stop himself, the words were ready to tumble out of his mouth. in his mind: flashes of very early memories he didn't even realize he still had.

his sister.

his father.

his mother.

"she used to yell all the time, man, all the goddamn time," dally mumbled as darry cleaned the split in his lip. "half the time i wouldn't even know what it was about... not really anyways... i'd ask her to help me tie my shoes and she wouldn't even let me get the words out before she'd start hollerin' at me."

something in darry's chest ached. dally had never once mentioned his family, much less in this intimate of a setting. the only indication dally had ever given that he even had a family was when he had shouted something about his junkie sister to johnny once. there was nothing else to it. darry had known for a long time that he, pony, and soda had lucked out with their parents. where they came from, it was pretty much luck of the draw who got belted by their folks and who got kissed goodnight.

"you were just a kid."

"yeah? well, i was a kid that shoulda smart enough to know when not to piss her off."

darry had a little too much experience with dally when he got too riled up, and he decided it was safer to just let dally sit with whatever he was feeling and keep going with patching him up. he cleaned cuts and noted bruises, mentally debating what would be the best way to ice the areas. dally still hadn't said a word by the time darry had finished working. he held out a hand to help hoist dally off the toilet, but dally just shook his head and pushed himself to his feet, the ache in his back settling over him.

"you can go lay down in soda's room," darry instructed. "he's over at steve's tonight."

“you know what, that’s who i really don’t need,” dally slurred as he fell down onto the bed. “those family bastards are always more trouble than they’re worth. best to leave those assholes far behind.”

even through the boozy haze lingering in his mind, dally could tell that he had said the exact wrong thing. darry’s expression shifted, so slightly, and still so loudly.

“shit, dar, you know this ain’t about your folks.”

dally seemed to be going from bad to worse. darry pressed his lips together and nodded, seemingly more to himself than to dally.

“there’s extra blankets in the bottom drawer. you can use whatever clothes you need.”

dally let his head fall to the bed pathetically, almost like he was hoping to smother himself in the mattress. there was an awful handful of moments where dally knew it would serve him right to be left there, messy and wrecked and too full of emotions for his own good. darry must have decided he felt bad, because he leaned down and ruffled dally’s hair.

“you don’t always gotta be so tuff, dal. my mama never asked you to be stone cold and never feel a thing, we don’t need that from you either.”

dally squeezed his eyes shut and lifted his head just enough, “man, you know i didn’t mean that, i’m sorry…”

“don’t,” darry corrected him quietly. “there’s nothing wrong with needing people.”

“i didn’t need em then, i sure as hell don’t need em now. i don’t miss em.. lord knows they don’t miss me.”

“you don’t know that, dal.”

“yeah, you and your brothers who’d do anything for each other. not all of us had that, superman.”

darry bit the inside of his cheek before sitting down next to dally, shoving his shoulder so that dally could face him.

“i’m not gonna ask, because i know you don’t wanna talk about it. but if there’s ever a time where you need someone to talk about them, i promise i won’t tell anyone. i know better than anyone that letting all that sit on your chest starts to hurt after a while. if the hurt gets to be too much, you know where to find me.”

he finished with a small smile before patting dally’s shoulder and pushing himself off the bed. dally didn’t try to stop him, didn’t try to explain, just let him leave. the door closing didn’t feel like a trap, it felt like… something he’d never been able to place.

dally stopped holding his breath. finally.

[sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth]

i ADORE glasses sam (per my bio)

but do you have any headcanons about sam’s glasses?

i think they are the cutest things but aren’t mentioned (or seen) aside from the hellhound thing. but i like to believe they are real !!

Ah yes. Sam with glasses.

For anyone who needs a little reminder:

Kinda crazy we only got them wearing glasses so few times in the show (and I don't even want to talk about that episode where Sam drinks the milkshake and goes crazy, cause that shit haunts me), considering they're constantly dressing up to hide their identities. Glasses seem like a helpful tool. Plus big old mustaches of course. 😄

I'm gonna be honest - I would buy him a slightly different pair. Any of these. I think he'd look absolutely delicious in any of those styles. What do you think?

And I haven't really thought much about Sam having glasses, which is why it took me a bit to answers this ask. But here's what I got after thinking about it for a little bit:

Weakness, or anything that could be interpreted as such, is a big no no in the Winchester household, as little as there is one. Scrape your knee? Walk it off. Watch a scary movie and can't sleep? Get it together. Feel the bottomless despair of this half life they all live, this endless state of being in-between, feel it so much it makes your bones shake? Deal with it. So when Sam's teacher sits him at the front of the class and asks him, after the bell rings and the other students are filtering out, if he's ever taken an eye test? Sam knows it's not something he will share that evening around the dinner table. Hell, they don't even have a dinner table right now. Just two beds and a couch. He walks home, stares off into the distance. At least he's not far-sighted. If he couldn't read anymore, or have trouble with it, Sam doesn't know what he would do then. But looking at stuff that's far away? He'll get his driver's licence soon, but it's not like his dad will ever let him drive the car. He's been able to work with it so far, so surely it won't be a problem, right? He sniffs, pulls his backpack higher. Not like there's much of a future to see anyway, his fifteen-year-old brain offers unhelpfully. So Sam never gets glasses. He just squints a little more. He gets some while he's at Stanford. A cheap pair that he's pretty sure doesn't have the right lens strength. It doesn't matter. He sits far back in the lecture hall, the numbers and letters seeming almost too sharp. He has to take them off when he walks back to the dorm, because they make him feel like he's walking on a rope, high above a circus crowd.

When Dean gets him and they leave Stanford, they end up somewhere among his things. When he finds them again, there's a big scratch in the right glass. He doesn't get them fixed for a long time. He's not wearing them, so why should he? He's not sure when or where he loses them. By the time he notices, they might have been gone for months, years even. He shrugs it off, even though he feels a weird nostalgia at the loss. And then when he and Dean hunt that hellhound, he puts on a pair again for the first time in he doesn't know how long. They're scorched with holy fire, so he and Dean can see the hell mutt. He can't help but chuckle when he puts them on, despite the entire situation being pretty dire. Dean puts on a pair too, and Sam immediately sees he picked the nicer ones. It's fine. Just for one night, he can pretend. It's actually pretty fun.

[lurkingshan]

Things That Have My Attention in 4 Minutes Episode 5

If you watched this on iQIYI you missed a few scenes! A couple of which I think were actually important. Gaga has the full cut.

The show did a nice little montage summarizing the core theory (that is clearly correct): Great is in the midst of a NDE and is experiencing a mix of things during the 4 minute window: memories, perceptions, rewinds and do-overs, and a new start with Tyme who he purportedly had a relationship with in the original timeline.

Also as theorized, the NDE seems to have begun at 11:00, so Great has until 11:04 in this limbo space. We saw the clock advance to 11:03 in today's episode.

We still know very little about the original timeline, including how Great and Tyme got involved the first time around and what happened with their relationship there that might inspire the desire for a fresh start.

Re: the cold opens with Tonkla and the murders, I do not think we're being shown those events in chronological order given Title was still alive in today's open.

Speaking of, only a brief appearance in the open from Tonkla before he sat the rest of this episode out. Interesting after several weeks of him dominating the story.

I am still trying to make sense of the way this romance is advancing in the redo timeline, and it only works if both Great and Tyme are in this 4 minutes limbo together and coming with pre-existing knowledge of and inclination to trust each other. Otherwise, their instant closeness and partnership in this situation with Great's family really doesn't make sense. Why would Tyme tell Great everything and trust him to handle his family after just meeting him and having sex one time? That goes beyond straining credibility unless he is also reliving things.

The smartest thing Tyme could have done was to take that bribe money and run. If he wanted to be decent, he'd have given Nan a cut and helped her run, too. But he seems preoccupied with Great in a way that doesn't really track unless he also knows him already.

Speaking of Nan, that poor woman has been through it. I was yelling at Tyme when he told her nothing and expected her to just accept that he was not going to take action. As fucking if, dude.

The rewind/do over in this episode felt different than the others. When Great went back, he didn't actually relive the same scene, he and the shooter were just suddenly in different positions. And all he accomplished was getting himself shot along with his mom.

I liked the way the lady from the initial accident came back around this episode to cause that, BUT it also just opens up more questions about the timelines because if she died in the original timeline, she would not have been able to set up a hit on Great's family. So, did saving her cause new bad shit? Did Great's mom also die in the original timeline, but differently? And will anything that happens in the redo actually stick?

We saw in this episode that when Korn is actually in trouble he goes to Fasai, not Tonkla. I get the sense that he has been with Fasai for years and likely the entire time he's been messing around with Tonkla; I was not surprised that she's always known. They are not a love match but they need things from each other. He never intended to be with Tonkla for real.

By the way, I was dying at Korn's little motivational speech to Great. He has to help his father do evil shit so their family can "survive." Survive what? Not being filthy rich, I guess. Great's mom was similarly desperate to cling to the status and wealth she clawed and scraped for. Nobody in this family has any true morality.

And yet I find it weird that they are letting Great run around causing a ruckus and not putting a stop to it or even punishing him. He is remarkably spoiled and pampered compared to Korn. Is this their dad's feelings about his two wives being acted out on his sons? If so, why does Great hate his dad so much?

LET'S TALK ABOUT THE FINAL SCENE. As Tyme was running through the tunnel, lights flickering around him, there were bruises appearing and then disappearing on his face. Are we seeing his NDE??

This show is still so much fun to watch and think about even if I am scratching my head at some of what happens.

[wands-natsthing]

Stressed

This story was on my old acct @wandanatsthings I made a new one (aka this one) which will be the acct I use from now on.

Hey, guys so this post might contradict my last but this is something I struggled with and thought others might be able to relate So I thought i'd share. Hope you enjoy it, feedback is always welcomed. New writer. 

(P.s Im dyslexic i'm trying my best) 

Word count: 2.7k 

Warnings: Mentions of body type/weight (not specific #), not eating, speaks of being ambushed but does not go into detail. Working out, angst and fluff. Missing S/O. Cursing.  Panic attack maybe?/ breaking down sobbing. Stress. I think that’s it. Please let me know if I  miss anything :) 

Summary: Reader stressed out and doesn’t have an appetite while Wanda and Natasha are away on a mission. 

Y/n Pov

You had just gotten home from a long day at work where nothing had gone your way. It started with the mission reports that you swore you had completed going missing. You had torn almost your whole office apart looking for them. You just could not find them. You had finally accepted the fact that your work day would be spent redoing mission reports. When you got word that you would be sent on a mission to receive some data from Hydra that SHIELD needed. You usually didn’t complain about going on missions but with the mission reports that needed to be redone on top of the report you were going to have to write for this mission to say you were dreading it would be the least, but you packed up, got on your suit and went outside to the landing pad where the quin-jet was right there waiting for you.

When you got there you were able to get the files you needed. The problem only came when you were trying to leave. The heater sensor on your suit detected hydra agents right where you needed to go to get to the jet and by your heat sensor flashing red like crazy you could tell that there were a lot of them. You took a deep breath and started to walk towards them. The closer you got you could count that it was a total of 10 of them. “I can do this,” you said to yourself. The agent closest to you was to the right with his back turned so he couldn’t see you. You decided that now would be a good time to try out your girlfriend's widow bites that she had given you weeks prior. You threw one out towards him and watched it take effect.

That went well you thought but as you went to do the same to the other agents that had their backs to you, You had been spotted. They all came running towards you, some with their weapons drawn, others ready to avenge you with their fist. Luckily after a long gruesome fight, you were able to get back to the jet with all the information Furry needed. You had some scrapes and bruises but honestly, you didn't care. All you wanted to do was get back to Nat and Wanda. After the long shitty day you had, you decided that the mission reports could wait until a later date. When you got back to the Avengers compound furry was already waiting for you at the landing pad with his hand out for the flash drive that contains all the information SHIELD required.

“Do you have the file and what the hell happened to you?” furry said with a curious look on his face. “Yes I have the files and to answer your question I was ambushed.” You said anxiously to get back to your living corridors to shower and finally be with your girlfriends. “Well are you okay?” he asked. Now furry wasn't the type to show his emotions but you had become his daughter much like Natasha so it didn’t surprise you when he voiced his concerns. “Yes I'm fine, just a couple of scrapes and bruises, nothing I can’t handle.” you reassured him. “Okay well, if it becomes anything more go see Dr. Banner and thank you.” With that, he walked away to go wherever furry goes and you headed to your floor where you hoped your lovers would be waiting for you.

When you got there though you were surprised to hear that the house was fully quiet. Are they home? You wondered. To answer your question, you walked farther into the kitchen and you saw a note on the counter. You grab the note, open it and what you read makes your heart sink. “Hi Detka, we're sorry we are not there to welcome you home. We got called on a short mission and should be back by the end of tonight to have dinner with you. Also, I (Wanda) made your favorite for lunch. It's in the fridge, heat it when you're ready. Xoxo Wands & Natty.” You put the note back down on the counter with a sigh. You understood how random missions could be. I mean you just went on an unexpected one yourself but you really wanted your girlfriends to hold you after the crappy day you had and they weren't here. Now you know that's not their fault but you couldn't help but feel just a little disappointed. You walked to the fridge to get the lunch your sweet witch had made for you and when you pulled it out you saw yet another note sitting on top of the cling wrap plate. You took the note off the plate and put it into the microwave so it could heat while you read the note. “Hi Detka, I hope you got our first note again we're sorry but I made your favorite. We love you!” You smiled at that. You love that they took the time to leave you notes. To you, it showed how much of a priority they thought you were.

By the time you finished reading the love-filled note, you heard the microwave beep. You got the food out, stopped by the drawer by the sink to grab yourself a spoon, and made your way to the dining room table to enjoy a meal that your wonderful girlfriend made. It made you chuckle when you thought back to how Wanda specified that it was her who made it. Both of you know that Natasha couldn’t cook to save her life. When You take the cling wrap off of the plate. Your stomach turned. It wasn’t the food. No, the food looked amazing. It was you. For some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to eat it. Now this wasn’t new to you. Anytime you had a bad day or things felt out of your control you just wouldn’t have an appetite. It had gotten better when you met your girlfriends. They would always listen to your venting and be there when you needed them. You hadn’t had this problem in a while when they were around. But you were a 24 y/o woman. You were sure you could handle a little stress without your girlfriends coming to your rescue. So you put up the food to come back to it later. While you were waiting for your appetite to come back around you decided to go take a shower and start on all the mission reports you had to get done.

A few hours had passed and it was almost dinner time. You had gotten so caught up in doing your mission reports that you hadn’t even realized that your loves were not back yet. With that, you got up to go ask Tony where they were to see if he had any updates. On your way to Tony’s lab, you stopped at the kitchen to get a water bottle, When you opened the fridge you saw your lunch still sitting there untouched “I'm gonna eat it later.” You said to yourself. When you got to Tony's lab you saw him hunched over looking at what looked like to be floor plans, for what you had no idea but you learned early on in your time here to never ask.

“Hey Tony,” you said approaching him. He looks up from what he’s doing and acknowledges you. “Hey kid, whatcha up too?” “Nothing much, um I was wondering if you had any update on Nat and Wanda? They were supposed to be back by now.” You replied. “No, why do you guys have a hot date planned or something?” He said winking at you. “No, Tony was just wondering where they were.” You say annoyed. He laughs and says “Okay okay um maybe ask Steve? He should know.” “Okay, thank you asshole.” You say with a slight smile on your face as you walk away. “Your welcome ass-hat.” You hear him yell. Although he was a pain in your ass 90% of the time you love the red tin man. You got on the elevator to go find Steve only to realize you had no idea where he was so you asked Friday. “Hey Friday, where’s Steve?” “Steve Rogers is in the gym agent y/l/n.” they reply. “Thanks, Friday.” You say back as you push the gym floor button on the elevator. When you arrive you walk in to see him punching a punching bag. He immediately notices you. “Hey, y/l/n what can I do for you?” He says “Hey cap I was wondering if you had any update on Wanda and Natasha. They said they were going to be back by dinner time. Any idea on where they are?” He looks at you with a sad look on his face. “Yeah, I'm sorry y/n their mission turned out to be not as easy as we thought and they're gonna have to go undercover for a week. Maybe more.” When you hear this your heart drops for a second time this day. “Okay, thanks, Steve.” You say sadly. “You welcome y/n.” He says with a frown on his face knowing how hard it is for you when the 2 red heads are away. When you get back to your floor you decide to call it a night exhausted from the day you've had. As soon as your head hits the pillow you're asleep dreaming that your girlfriends are in the bed with you. While the meal in the fridge sat there waiting to be eaten.

2 weeks. 2 weeks had passed since you saw your girlfriends and since you had a full proper meal. With the stress of work and missing your lovers, you had barely eaten anything more than an apple here and there with some water. Along with that, you had been working out to try and keep your mind off of the fact you hadn’t even talked to them in 2 weeks since it was an undercover no-contact mission. So it was no surprise that that's where you were when they came home.

Wanda’s Pov

When we finally got home after 2 weeks of being undercover all we both wanted was you, food, and a shower. You being the main goal though but when we came into the house it was quiet. We called out to you but no one answered. It was rare that when we returned from the mission you didn’t come running into our arms so excited that we were home so we then decided to ask Friday where you were. “Hey Friday, where's y/n?” “Welcome home Ms. Maximoff and Ms. Romanov. Agent y/l/n is in the gym currently.” They said, “Okay thanks Friday.” I said looking towards Natasha “Let's shower and stuff and then we can go get her and have dinner together.” I say. She nods towards me and says. “Sounds like a plan.” We then make our way to our bathroom to shower.

Nats Pov

After Wands and I shower I headed into the kitchen to get some water while she put on lotion. When I went into the fridge I was surprised to see that the meal Wanda made you still sat in the fridge untouched beside the note being gone. I then looked around more in the fridge to find that nothing else had been touched either. Everything was in the same place as how we left it 2 weeks ago. I then looked around the entire kitchen to come up with the same results. So I called Wanda out here to tell her what I had found and with one look we both raced to the gym to find you. When we got there we could see you through glass, running on the treadmill but when we walked fully inside the sight we saw broke our hearts. You were thin. Like unhealthily thin. Now you weren't even overweight to begin with so with all the working out and barely eating it was enough that within 2 weeks you looked sickly. At the sound of Wanda's gasp when she saw you. You finally noticed them standing there.

Y/n Pov

I was running on the treadmill with my headphones on when I looked up and saw the women I had been longing for for the past 2 weeks. I quickly shut off the treadmill and ran towards them. When I finally reached them I just hugged them, they immediately both hugged me back but something felt off. When I looked up at their faces both of them had tears in their eyes. I let go a little and asked them “What's wrong, Is everything okay? Are you guys hurt?” I say checking over them frantically. When I'm satisfied with my check I look up to them and what comes out of Wanda’s mouth makes my stomach turn."Have you been eating?” she says shakily “What do you mean? Of course, I've been eating.” I say getting a little defensive. “No you haven't’ the meal Wanda left for you before we left is still there and nothing has been moved in the kitchen or the refrigerator. Is everything okay? Are you sick?” Natasha asks. As soon as she asks that You break down in tears. All of the stress of the weeks prior catching up with you all at once. “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,” You say sobbing and falling to the floor. Wanda and Nat both catch you before you can reach the floor and bring you into their laps just holding you and whispering sweet nothings. When you've finally calmed down Natasha is the first one to speak. “Do you wanna tell us what's going on or would you like to talk about it later?” “No, we can talk about it now,” You say, your scratchy voice from crying.

While you're preparing yourself to tell them everything from the past weeks you feel both of them kiss your forehead and that's what gives you the strength to start talking. “Um before you guys left I had been having a rough day. My mission reports had gone missing and they were due soon and I had got sent on a mission that was supposed to be easy but then I got ambushed.” As you say that Wanda interrupts you and asks “Are you okay, did you need to go to medical?” while checking over you just like you had done minutes ago to the both of them.“I'm fine don’t worry,” You say kissing her hands you then continue. “As I was saying I was ambushed and all I wanted was you guys when I got home and you weren’t there. And don't apologize I can feel you both getting ready too. I understand unexpected missions happen and that is not your fault. When I realized you were not there I saw your first note on the counter which I love. When you leave me notes by the way but then I made my way to the fridge to get lunch. I had all intentions of eating it but when I sat down to eat it I just couldn’t.” You then go on to explain to them that when you're stressed out and when things get out of your control you lose your appetite.

After you're finished talking, Wanda begins to speak. “We are so sorry you had to go through that alone, but as long as we're your girlfriends you won’t ever again have to. Maybe we can talk to Bruce and find you some new coping skills to cope with the stress.” She says “Yeah, what do you think about that sweet girl?” Natasha asks you. You look up at them with so much love in your eyes. “I think that’s a great idea, thank you guys,” You said, giving each of them a kiss. “No problem zolotse,” Natasha says with a smile on her face. “How about we get some lunch?” says Wanda. You look up at them with a small bit of fear on your face having not eaten in 2 weeks you were scared of how your stomach would react. “Don't worry love, we’ll be right here with you.” You hear Wanda say. With that, you all start to make your way to your floor to enjoy lunch. With you thinking that no matter how stressed you got you will always have your girlfriends to make it better.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Feedback welcomed and very much appreciated!!

[caffeinated-binturong]

Imperfections

Sevika x Reader

Synopsis: You've heard how people laud the abilities of a new, mysterious person and think he may be able to fix your eyesight. The only drawback is your girlfriend is not a fan of his. Genre: Angst POV: Second Warnings: None Word Count: 1.3k

—

Grabbing your keys, you’re about to head out when when the telltale sound of a key scraping into a lock rips through you. Sevika wasn’t supposed to be back for hours—you had even specifically waited for a time she'd be out—so why was she back so soon? Did she suspect you were up to something?

You quickly drop your keys and try to act normal as the door swings open, hoping your alarm didn’t show.

“Forgot my—going somewhere?” she interrupts herself when she sees you.

“Nope, why?” you lie through your teeth.

“Where?” Sevika was suddenly serious as she closes the door. She’d deal with not showing up for a meeting later, this took priority.

“I told you, I’m not going anywhere,” you dig yourself further into a hole.

“Don’t lie,” she warns.

“What makes you think I’m lying?” you deflect, desperate for her to drop it.

“You’re sitting on the couch in your shoes and cloak. You were going out.” Anger was seeping into Sevika’s voice at your repeated denials, she had to assume the worst.

You try to think of a reason but come up empty. You had ditched the keys but completely forgot you were dressed to go out, not that you had time to remove anything. If you hadn’t panicked, you could have kept the keys and said you were running an errand, she might have even bought it. In your head, you saw how the two of you would laugh about nearly running into each other.

Here you were instead, lying to someone you loved. As much as she was trying to hide it, you can see the hurt it was causing, that you were causing.

“I was going to the commune,” you mumble, coming clean. It would probably spark an argument but you couldn’t stomach what you were doing. As much as you didn’t want to fight, you wanted to hurt her even less.

“The commune? Why?” Sevika knew why you would want to go there but needed you to say it anyway.

“Why?” you laugh without mirth, taking off your glasses. “Because I’m fucking blind! If these miracles are real, I wouldn’t need help to see, would never have to deal with busted lenses or dropping them again. And the constant cleaning! Do you know how fucking terrifying it is when something hits them or they fall? Because maybe this time will be the one where they’ll be damaged beyond repair and I’ll have to navigate the streets without being able to see.

“You know how dangerous things can be, how enforcers can get, and I wouldn’t be able to avoid any of it—if anything, I’d make for a bigger target!—all because I didn’t act fast enough to something I couldn’t see. Then what? I piss someone off with a chip on their shoulder? Someone tries to get to you through me? I get carted off to Stillwater? I deal with these thoughts all the time,” you rant.

“We’ve been over this,” Sevika sighs as she sits beside you. She wasn’t happy you lied so brazenly or that you tried to sneak around behind her back but it was clear this was eating at you more than you had let on. How she felt could wait until this was sorted.

“Easy for you to be so blasé,” you snap, “you don’t have to deal with people forgetting you can’t do something or get handed something you can’t actually use. Do you know how much it sucks having to decide between being able to see and losing an eye? When not being able to see makes it more likely you’ll lose an eye? More likely to hurt or kill someone? You can roll out of bed and be fine, I have no choice but wear glasses every waking hour.”

“I just have to consider my arm,” she reminds you somberly.

“Ugh, sorry,” you say, instantly losing the heated momentum you had built up. You hadn’t meant to turn it into a competition, to drag her into it.

“You know how I feel about that guy,” Sevika states, bringing it back around to what started this.

You nod, kicking yourself for being an ass. When people first started praising the ‘miracle healer’, it got you and Sevika talking about the possibilities, what he did to the people he healed, and if either of you would consider it. You were curious about the potential; Sevika didn’t trust it, said it was too easy.

“That why you were sneaking out?” Sevika asks. She knew she could be intimidating, had used that to her advantage for years, but if you felt you couldn’t be honest with her… were scared of her reaction… she would have to change that.

“It’s just… Sev.” You stand so you can pace. “I hate this, hate feeling so helpless, hate how people look at me when I remind them I can’t do something they take for granted. And the pity from some of them! I’ve been dealing with this for so long and now it could all be taken away. If this so-called healer helps, what does it matter how he does it? Why shouldn’t I try?” Your voice is breaking but you don’t care.

“You think I haven’t thought how much easier it would be if I had my arm back?” Her tone is carefully measured to make it clear she has a point she’s leading up to and isn’t comparing her struggles to yours.

“No—”

“Then why do you think I don’t understand how you feel?” Her voice is firm but lacks the bite she would have been justified in having.

“It’s not the same,” you grouse, not willing to concede.

“You’re right, it’s not,” she states while standing to her full height, her agreement throwing you off. “I don’t know what you deal with and you don’t know what I do. It doesn’t mean you should run to the first person who offers to sell you a fix.”

You purse your lips wishing you could make her understand. Words didn’t get across just how much this was consuming you.

“Look,” she continues, “I won’t stop you if you really want to go—hell, I’ll even go with you—but I want you to be sure you’re doing this for you, not because of some assholes.”

Your conviction wavers at that. You had been set on doing this to the point you were willing to risk you relationship, but now… Were you doing this because you wanted to or because of how others treated you? You decided against chemtech replacements in the past because of the risks involved so why were you willing to see this herald knowing none of the risks or how it worked? Did you just destroy your relationship for nothing?

Overwhelmed by it all, you start to sob, startling Sevika. You weren’t one to cry, let alone so intensely, so she has no idea what to do or even if there was anything she could do—it was so much easier when she could punch whoever upset you. Cautiously, she pulls you into a hug while being willing to let go if you didn’t want her to touch you right then.

When you don’t shrink away, her embrace solidifies and she simply holds you through it.

After finally running out of tears, you draw back to wipe your eyes and compose yourself, absently noting how dirty your lenses were. There were so many things you had to apologize for but you didn’t know where to start.

“What do you want to do?” There was no judgement, no pressure go along with what she thought was right, Sevika only wanted you to be sure whatever it was is what you want.

“Curl up and sleep for a week?” you answer after a pause, your voice and throat both raw.

“I’ll go change,” Sevika chuckles.

—

A/N: It felt weird to write for a disability I don’t have so I went with one I do and boy howdy do I have Thoughts™ about it (and yes it is a disability, albeit on a spectrum and one that tends to be treated as “normal” up until it inconveniences someone else). We also know it’s something Viktor considers an imperfection given how many people had their eyes fixed, probably without even knowing he would do that or their vision wasn’t 100%. Oh hey, title idea yoink.

[adickaboutspoons]

When a Steard is not a Beard

I want to talk about the significance of Stede's beard in the opening dream sequence of s2e1, and how we know from Lucius in the first season that "not every beard is a beard". Of course SOME beards are just beards - most of the Revenge and QA crew sport face fuzz of some sort or another, and it's just How They Look. But, narratively speaking, when attention is called to facial hair in this show, it's all about deception and hiding one's true self.

We have Blackbeard, who has built his brand around his eponymous facial fur, but feels stifled by the way the success of said brand has left him bored out of his skull, and frustrated by the way his reputation has been co-opted and twisted into something inhuman. (And by poor Taika's accounts, the beard itself was literally stifling; unbearably hot to wear, and how he could hardly move the bottom half of his face lest the glue start peeling off). It's only when Ed shaves it off at the academy that he's able to start really approaching the question of what it means to be Just Ed. And, of course, we have the way he smeared kohl across his mouth and jaw in a frightful simulacrum of a beard as part of his Kraken transformation at the end of season 1.

We have Jim, who uses a fake beard to conceal their identity while on the run after having killed Alfeo de la Vaca. Only once that beard is discarded are they able to really think about who they are and how that doesn't fit in the narrow parameters of a gender binary. We see them go back into the beard when they re-commit themself to the vengeance quest, posing as a bearded priest in order to capture Geraldo, but, again divested of the beard, Jim is able to consider whether completing the vengeance quest and allowing their life to be consumed with a family that is dead and gone is something they want, or if they might be happier committing themself to a different path, and finding a family that will give them the love and support their own no longer can. And then, of course, the way Jim paints on a simulacrum beard when they are forced into a life of violence as part of Kraken!Ed’s crew.

We have Heartbroken Voyeur Stede’s comment about how Calico Jack had nice hair, but “his moustache is weird.” Shortly after, we learn that CJ has been a duplicitous, manipulative asshole the entire time, his only goal to lure Ed away from the Revenge before the British came to kill Stede.

So what does it say that Stede is dreaming about himself with a full beard? To have Dream!Ed specifically comment on it? Because they’re calling attention to it, so, hey, hi, how are you? You have my attention!

I think it’s not JUST that Stede is casting himself in the role of the dashing hero with all the trappings thereof, indulging in a fantasy about a joyous, romantic reunion with his beloved. Because this fantasy has some MUCH darker connotations than the sun-drenched beach would suggest. This Dashing Hero™ persona isn’t Stede’s idealized self. It’s the culmination of all his insecurities about not being the kind of person who is worthy of the attention and love of someone as impossibly cool as Blackbeard.

(Incidentally, I think it significant that Ed, in the dream, ALSO has his full beard. This more than anything is what clues me into the fact that Stede is still trying to measure up to the Legendary Pirate Blackbeard - not Just Ed with his soft, beautiful clean-shaven face, nor even a more realistic version with a beard that’s coming in quite nicely, but isn’t anywhere near the epic proportions that it once was, as we see with the scenes of real Kraken!Ed)

We learn later in the episode that Stede has been dragging his feet about setting out to reunite with Ed in spite of the all the money he and the crew have managed to scrape together working for Jackie, and the true reason behind his reticence is that he is still genuinely convinced that Ed is better off and happier without him. Even when reunited with Lucius in episode 2 and Lucius suggests that Ed’s time with Stede was “as good as it’s going to get for [Ed]”, Stede’s response is that he’s “not ready to believe that.” Stede really just is incapable of conceptualizing a reality in which Just Stede could ever be enough.

(And don’t get me started on Lucius’ beard! Lucius who was the emotional intelligence of the crew in the first season, and is now a guarded, brittle, traumatized shell of who he was. He’s 100% for sure not hiding behind a façade of butched-up toughness. Nope. Not. At. All.)

So in Stede's dreams, he’s the epitome of the kind of guy that WOULD be good enough. The kind of guy who has a beard and wears leather pants (hello queer urge to become the person that you sexually desire, how are you?). The kind of guy with neat, tidy, barely even wavy hair instead of perfectly coifed cherub curls. The kind of guy who, if he wears a fine fabric at all, it’s wrapped around his waist where it can be mostly concealed by a thick, macho belt, and trailing in front of his crotch like a fabric phallus (and, say, if Ed feels like touching it, maybe there’s something else in the vicinity that he might also be interested in touching?). The kind of guy who is tough and competent and can kill without remorse or pity.

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Dorothy x Reve (Dorothys elf if you're lost since not enough people use her name since she's reduced to Dorothy's elf counterpart). This is a pair I have not stopped thinking about since i rewatched the show a year ago, and it's also a pair which has little to no content, I scrape for content everyday to the point the 2 episodes that Reve was in have become an almost daily rewatch/reread. I think Reve's tag at the moment is almost exclusively me.

While all the other elf and human pairs mostly seem quite similar in personality, Dorothy and Reve could not be more of opposites which I love. They balance eachother out so well, where Reve is very easygoing and more stoic, Dorothy cannot sit still and is very chipper. Introvert and extrovert sorta thing (there's something in my mind to connect this to their fight where there were moons and stars summoned, something like Reve summoned the moon and Dorothy summoned the stars). If they had met under much different and better circumstances, they would've easily gotten along.

They can share eachothers' world !! They both can access and control glamour world at the same time, and were able to manifest separately too, so they can actually have a face to face convo, which most other elf and human pairs couldn't (William and Patollie only at the end), so it did make them closer than normal. Dorothy says something along the lines of 'we've each finally found someone we can share our dreams with, So let's have some fun!' and I think about that line daily.

This is purely headcannon but I imagine Dorothy felt kinda lonely for a while in her life, seeing as she grew up in the witches forest and then went to clover which didn't treat foreigners well at all. Plus her magic was very unique and unlike anyone else's. So to her, it felt nice to see someone else who had her magic.

Dorothy looked so happy during the fight (it's because of Reve TRUST), like, this is her enemy at the moment but she still wants to have fun with her since they both can use dream magic. She also never regretted having her body being taken over by Reve. Ik it's non cannon (I think?) but that captains meeting episode where all the elf-possesed captains wanted to lose their titles because they were guilty and Dorothy said something along the lines of 'I don't really feel that bad about it though,'. She also said to Reve while glamour world was collapsing 'Im glad I met you,'

This is all mostly on Dorothys side since Reve was fully against even talking to her, but another moment I replay in my mind repeatedly is when Dorothy said 'Not all humans are consumed with greed and hatred, don't you think so too after seeing those kids?' or something like that, and later when Luck and Magna were doing their combo to defeat her, Reve replied in her head 'True'. This might be referring to the 5 others in glamour world since that was who Dorothy was referring to but in my heart, Reve was thinking about Dorothy when she thought that, since Dorothy is literally almost the opposite of whatever the elves assumed (rightfully so) of the humans post-massacre.

Also bonus points because of the absolutely beautiful manga panel where they were just summoning anything and everything, completely ignoring the 5 other people there. Like hello?? They summoned a whole ass moon and stars casually in their fight, while talking (mostly on Dorothys end with her being all chipper and Reve telling her to shut up every time she tries).

This was the perfect excuse to just talk about my favourite girls ever who have 4 lines of interaction at best and will never have more. I honestly don't know if this made sense at all or if I explained my vision in a way that made sense but they are everything to me.

Thank you for submitting propaganda for: Dororeve!

To everyone: please consider supporting this wonderful ship during Femslash Month in May!