#most of those empty spots are going to defenders

[chirpingfromthebox]

The status of PWHL Boston's roster after the draft

The Draftees:

Hannah Bilka - F

Shay Maloney - F

Ilona Markova - F

Daniela Pejšová - F

Sydney Bard - D

Hadley Harmetz - D

Under Contract:

Loren Gabel - F

Taylor Girard - F

Hilary Knight - F

Alina Müller - F

Jamie Lee Rattray - F

Theresa Schafzahl - F

Susanna Tapani - F

Jessica Digirolamo - D

Megan Keller - D

Aerin Frankel - G

Emma Söderberg - G

Currently Free Agents:

Lexie Adjiza - F

Kelly Babstock - F

Hannah Brandt - F

Nicole Kosta - F

Gigi Marvin - F

Amanda Pelkey - F

Sophie Shirley - F

Taylor Wenczkowski - F

Emily Brown - D

Abby Cook - D

Kaleigh Fratkin - D

Sidney Morin - D

Cami Kronish - G

Total players you can have on your roster (not counting reserves): 23

Those currently under contract + the draftees = 17

Available spots left: 6

[kitscutie]

snow and roses: part II (coriolanus snow x fem!reader)

pairing: coriolanus snow x reader

warnings: none except the nature of the Hunger Games franchise! later on in the series there will be hints to dark!coriolanus snow and lots of angst so be prepared!

summary: you and coriolanus have been dating in secret for months, all it takes is one songbird for everything to come into the light.

a/n: part two is here! hope you enjoy, remember requests are open and there are more parts to come :) p.s - all of the love on part one means the world!

word count: 2.3k

find part one here!

join my taglist here!

Over the past eighteen years you couldn't picture a single day you and Coriolanus hadn't spent together. Birthdays, school days, even throughout the war, you spent time together.

Today was different. He hadn't met you this morning and you couldn't help but miss his presence. His character enveloped a room, always making it clear he was there without really having to say a word. You found it comforting, others found it threatening.

The Tributes arrived early this morning and it was something you had dreaded, very soon you would actually have to meet Wovey. Mentor her, care for her, and it riddled you with guilt knowing that it was all a challenge. Her life was a challenge to you.

Coryo's presence could've softened that burden and yet, he wasn't here. No warning no explanation he just didn't show.

"Where's Snow?" Asked Arachne as you all stood outside your classroom at the Academy, preparing for yet another lecture from Casca.

"I wouldn't know." You shrugged, secretly seething at your boyfriends disregard to tell you where he was going before he disappeared.

"Oh please. You two are practically attached at the hip." Scoffed Festus. Fixing his hair in a small compact mirror which he carried around in his bag.

"I heard he's with his songbird." Mock sang Felix. Knowing it would most likely piss you off to the high heavens.

"And where did you hear that, Felix?" You asked, tilting your head in questions, eyebrows furrowed. While Felix was a tease he was not a liar.

"Lucky's newest interview. He was in the zoo with the tributes, I mean it was almost comedic. But, I've got to say the most interesting part was when they held hands." He said. You couldn't hide the anger on your face no matter how hard you tried and it was only made worse when you spotted Sejanus' sympathetic glance from over his shoulder.

"Well, he is very motivated to win the Prize I suppose." You murmured, now embarrassed, even if they weren't aware he was your boyfriend he was supposed to be your closest ally and here he was prancing around with his new decoration.

Much to your pleasure the large wooden door swung open, everybody filing into the room and taking their assigned seats, the one next to yours empty.

His seat.

Finally, minutes later he entered looking rather sheepish. If he was ashamed you were glad, he should be.

"Your little excursion is in violation of about five Academy rules Mr Snow." Spoke Casca. Deep down you were pleased that he had broken rules, pleading in your mind that this would prevent any further ventures. "Amongst them, endangering a Capitol student."

"Who?" He asked, stopping in his tracks as though he was insulted by the accusation.

"You. I'm moving for the Game makers to disqualify you as a mentor immediately." Casca answered. Guiltily you were happy, you just hoped your face didn't show it as Coriolanus sat down next to you.

"You said that we had to get our tributes to perform, not that we had to stay away." He said leaning against the banister of your seats.

"I don't believe holding their hands was in that agreement." You snarled from behind him and you immediately regretted it as he turned to you, hurt that you weren't defending him.

"Right you are Miss L/N." Casca replied.

"Holding her hand, introducing her to people. You make it look as if were one in the same as those animas." Arachne added. You didn't agree with that, they were very much the same as us but his effort to care for her wounded you internally.

"Coriolanus didn't show those people anything they didn't already know. That the tributes are human beings. Just like us. That's why nobody wants to watch the Games, because people know deep down, that winning a war ten years ago doesn't justify starving peoples children." Sejanus added, yet you couldn't help but feel like Coriolanus didn't truly agree, he just wanted to be let loose for his wrong doings.

"Snow fell. Down in the cage, it fell down in the cage but it landed-" Doctor Gaul appeared, frightening you and many others. She had an atmosphere similar to Coriolanus, threatening and brazen. Maybe that should've scared you more than any District Twelve girl, yet it didn't.

"On stage." Snow finished her riddle without hesitation.

"You're good at games. Maybe one day you'll be a Game maker like me." She grinned evilly. You didn't miss Coriolanus' smile when hearing this and something deep within you stirred.

"Only if the games continue at all." Casca replied.

"Oh they'll continue, with performances like young Mr Snow in that zoo. In fact I came to ask your star Mentor a question. What are the Hunger Games for?" She said confidently.

"They're to punish the Districts for their uprising. To commemorate the end of the war." Coriolanus answered thou hit felt scripted and to some extent it was. That very answer was drilled into your heads from the moment you entered the Academy.

Sejanus began to discredit the Games, calling them what they are. Cruel. Doctor Gaul didn't like that.

"Perhaps the Capitol students are ill suited to be mentoring tributes, perhaps the Games time has passed." Casca said and something about it told you he was on Sejanus' side, that he didn't agree with the very games he created.

"Dean Highbottom is wrong. My classmates too. Maybe Sejanus is onto something, maybe we should be viewing those tributes as human beings." Coriolanus spoke and you tugged at his shirt for him to sit down, to stop defending this inhumane act but he slapped your hand away. "I mean you saw those kids in the zoo, they just wanted to get to know Lucy Gray. If we need people to watch we should be letting them get closer to the tributes before the games. Make the stakes personal." You felt embarrassed by his every word. Embarrassed by his obsession with Lucy Gray and embarrassed that he believed in these games.

"Who will watch the games if they care what happens to the tributes?" Asked Doctor Gaul and even to you, the answer was obvious. Everyone.

"Everyone." Answered Snow, predictable. "If they thought the tribute they cared about had a chance of winning, people need someone to root for and against. We need them to invest. If we bend a few Capitol laws, we could even have them place bets." He continued his proposal.

"You forget you're talking about real people Coriolanus, not just characters in your wider game." You said, eyes cold as he once again turned to you seeming betrayed, you no longer cared.

"Look I know Lucy Gray may not win in the arena but if you give her a chance, I would bet the Plinth Prize that she can win peoples attention." He ignored you, instead once again talking about Lucy. You felt sick by his obsession, betrayed. How long had you been the one to care for him, to root for him and here he was digging a dagger in your heart.

"I would like you to write up a proposal of these thoughts tonight Mr Snow." Doctor Gaul stated. "Perhaps your classmate can help you?" She smirked towards you in question.

You shook your head while keeping your eyes trained on the front of the room, you refused to be apart of his play for Lucy Gray's victory.

You sat alone at lunch, thinking. What was going on between him and that girl and why was he suddenly the Games biggest supporter. You understood the Plinth Prize meant a lot to him. That it would open doors but this was a step too far.

"Y/N, a pleasure." A voice you knew all too well said as it took the seat across from you.

"Coriolanus." You answered bluntly before taking another bite of your sandwich. He could tell something was off from the moment you used his full name, usually calling him Coryo.

"What was that little show back there, hm?" He asked, blue eyes a weapon as he glared at you. Something you had never been on the receiving end of before.

"I could ask you the same thing." You replied, putting your food down to glare back.

"It's a competition, Y/N. One which could change my life, I know you don't have to worry about winning but this means everything to me. You know that. I know the games are animalistic but they'll go on either way-." He defended though you cut him off.

"That's what you think I'm upset about?" You said, exaggerating the 'that's'.

"It's not?" He asked, now curious.

"I don't know, Coriolanus maybe I'm upset about you being obsessed with Lucy Gray. I mean, she's all you've spoken about since the Reaping, you held her hand! Risked your life for her!" You exclaimed in angry, drawing attention to your table.

"Oh what, so your jealous?" He smirked, clearly amused by your outrage.

"Jealous does little to describe what I am feeling, Snow. This is another level. When will you realise that that girl is using you, just as you are using her. Nothing more nothing less. I however am still here, I have been there for years, for you!" You shouted once more and he grew agitated as the room stared, grabbing your wrist with unnecessary aggression to pull your face down to this.

"Don't make a scene Y/N. You're acting like a little girl." He gritted out through his teeth.

"Fuck you, Coriolanus Snow." You replied equally quiet and with menace laced in your words. You saw his face change, as if the anger once there was replaced by a mask of sympathy. It felt ingenuine.

"Come on, Y/N. You know I love you right? I have for how long now, years." He said with kind eyes.

"Don't kid yourself." You scoffed. Though his face stayed the same his grip on your wrist tightened, leaving pink indentations.

"I love you, Y/N. Okay? Not Lucy Gray. She's my tribute just like you said, nothing more nothing less." He once again reassured, never giving up his hold.

Finally the fire in your heart gave out to him and his stupid Snow charm. It never failed to make you swoon and hearing those three words, ones you gave to each other not very often, you just wished to be in his arms.

"Okay." You retreated.

"Okay and?" He asked.

"I love you too." You answered, relieved when he let your wrist go, you were quick to move it below the table, scared to see what he had done to your wrist.

"Good. Now come on, I'm going to give some food to Lucy Gray, strengthen her, I assume you would like to meet Wovey." He said, getting up from his chair. You didn't want to meet Wovey, not really, scared to look her in the eyes. You did however want to meet his pretty little Songbird.

You walked together, hand in hand towards the zoo. He was back to his caring self after the flash of rage you previously saw. It wasn't the first time that side of him had flashed and you knew it wouldn't be the last but moments like these made it all worth it.

Your relationship was secret, but you felt no need to hide it anymore, now determined to show he was yours. Show everyone.

At first you stuck by his side, even when he spoke to Lucy Gray and you felt yourself flinch as she rushed over.

"That for us?" She asked as he held food out to her. Watching as she gave some to her fellow District Twelve Tribute, Jessup. "And who might this be?" She asked, eyeing up your joint hands.

"Wovey's mentor." He answered, without a second thought. Though when you squeezed his hand, his answer changed. "My girlfriend, I mean. Y/N L/N."

"Well Miss L/N, you sure do have the cream of the crop here with Mr Snow. He's a lovely young man." She smiled at you, you couldn't tell if it was your own paranoia telling you it was ingenuine or if she really didn't feel happy for you.

"Oh, and don't I know it." You smiled back. "You've equally had such luck I must say. He's a fine mentor." You added, patting his chest as you boosted his ego.

"Well, thank you." He said, kissing your forehead. "But uh, could you give me and Lucy Gray a moment, Mentor to Tribute?" He asked and that once burnt out flame of jealousy flickered within you as you left to speak to Wovey. You watched as they now leant against the fence to talk, lips inches away, crouched together.

Wovey was a sweet young girl, grateful as you gave her food and she shared it with Bobbin who she had been sat with, you didn't mind her sharing seeing as some Mentors has made little effort to offer any help.

You patted her shoulder through the fence, promising your support to help her reach the end of the games though it seemed she didn't care about winning and you admired her bravery.

A scream cut said conversation short as you looked to see Arachne's neck being stabbed with a smashed glass bottle. Play stupid games win stupid prizes.

You and Coriolanus both rushed over. Even if she was mean and bitchy she was your friend for the last five years and you had grown fond of the girl.

You whispered reassurances as she cried, placing pressure on her neck until you were literally dragged off of her by Peacekeepers, watching as her final breath left her body.

"No, no, no." You whispered with glassy eyes as her body became smaller and smaller on the ground - until it was too far into the distance to see.

It was clear the games had officially begun, and the tributes were winning.

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[court-jobi]

Hi, is there any Headcanon of a Married relationship between Izuku Midoriya and the reader? Could you write based on the Canon? Although the Reader, besides being a heroine (Izuku the teacher), is a model for clothing brands, cosmetics, etc! like any celebrity.

The reader is female!

ooooo~ how fun, anon! Let's see what I got... first headcanon request, here we go!!

A/N: I've gotten several fun asks recently, and am moving those larger works to the top of my WIPs as time allows. This is so fun, and you all suggesting prompts like these make it a joy!

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Pairing: Izuku Midoriya x Fem!reader (SFW)

MARRIED HEADCANONS!

Married!Izuku who -even though you're coming up on your third wedding anniversary- still crams love notes on index cards into your e-reader before he leaves for the day. You have it plugged into the side table of the living room and will pick it up as soon as you come home from work to wind down; so even though he will have a later arrival home than you, you'll hardly feel alone with Izuku's words of affirmation pouring out their surprise greeting.

Izuku writes in the middle of the night when he wakes before you- whether by an overactive mind or a nightmare he'd sooner forget. Rather than disturb your much needed rest, will channel reflective thoughts towards you onto paper- and sneaks their secrets around the house where you'll least expect them. Just when you think you know all his hiding spots, he picks a new one to surprise you. Once satisfied with his "journaling" tactic, he'll scoop you back up against him and settle into sleep.

Married!Izuku who chooses a travel tumbler for you every morning and fills it every time it's empty. Car ride ahead? It's crafted with your homebrewed coffee to keep you awake. Got a photoshoot ahead? Water it is, keeping his love hydrated. You are his beloved beverage goblin and though he finds your car to be a tervis graveyard, what's one more dish to wash if it makes you happy?

This man, who will hiss when your hands are too cold against his, getting ramped up far too easily when it comes to worrying over your health... meanwhile Izuku toughs through the worst of allergies himself with a hundred sniffles (and an aversion to cough medicine.) It's one of the first big arguments you had as a couple: you forcing him to take better care of himself when his self-preservation streak peeks through and nearly wears him into the ground during grad school. He'll start to defend himself, only to be caught by flashbacks to the last time he tried managing things on his own, and rightfully apologize. You are a team, and Izuku tries his hardest to let you step in and give him the same care and caution he gives you. It's a hard lesson, managing pride when it comes to taking care of someone so selflessly, and Izuku is still unused to this treatment when turned to himself. You're doing your best, armed with a world of grace to set him straight.~

Married!Izuku who is a phenomenal teacher. One of the most patient souls you've ever met, which is a large draw that led you to date him! You're encouraged to stretch your ways of thinking, listening to his alternative points of view... and find yourself marveling that a man who's so closely engrossed with training the next generation of heroes is still so happy to watch the news at the end of the day in hopes of learning more!

You've gifted him a notetaking tablet that's meant to replace his waning supply of favorite notebooks, but if you find that blue Campus brand in a shop that's selling your brand deals somewhere, you are absolutely picking it up for him. He cries every time you make him close his eyes and hold out his hands, producing your surprise in giddy silence. "They don't make this edition anymore!! H-HONEY!!"

^^^After a day of sparring with his students -giving them a run for their money- you'll be the one patching him up out of sight of Recovery Girl, everything from a lightly busted lip to each blooming bruise he's gonna feel in the morning. You're surprised he's getting hit as much as he is when he's still renowned as one of the heartiest teachers at UA- quirk or not, he is no lightweight. You may worry over him just as much, but with your honorary brother-in-law 'Kacchan' running drills on him on the weekends, you know Izuku is in tip-top shape. No one is invincible, after all.

Will gladly talk to your mom on the phone~ welcomes it, actually! Izuku wants to learn every little tidbit and creature comfort he can about you, so any nerves he had about meeting your family when you began dating dissolved once he kept that goal in mind. (This mentality won your father over well, to a comical degree once Izuku showed him the notes folder on his phone with your die-hard favorite secret pleasures only a loved one would know...) Allmight makes his trip to your dinner table every other week or so, becoming a ready and available father figure to you while yours lives hours away. It does your heart a world of good sitting in his nurturing company.

Married!Izuku will carry your luggage to and from the airport without a single grunt or complaint (That's what he continues to work out for, even as a teacher!) A few tears upon departure and arrival, sure, but will always ground himself steady in his pride over the hard work you're putting in. He's the one who calls to wish you a goodnight when you're on location for hero support, and a sends a text for every morning and lunch break. Regardless of timezone, he's going to make sure you are part of his routine like nothing's changed. You rely on this consistancy more than life. Living apart -even short term- is expected at this stage of your career where you're needed more than ever to help fund your hero ventures through sponsorships... but Izuku will forever be your biggest supporter.

///Little does he know, you are cramming in twice as many roles to help fund a certain someone's hero suit development, per Bakugou's discretion. It's the one, solitary lie of omission you keep from your husband, but one you trust is going to be worth it in the end to see him shine where he wants to once again. He'll always be your hero, but you'll help him see that realized self any way you can.///

Married!Izuku will be flooding the groupchat with every single advertisement that features your face. Every last one. And there are many. The girls will share you on each of their socials in support of whatever you are sporting, while the boys will... look respectfully and congratulate Izuku on his absolute knockout of a girl. Izuku is just insanely proud of his wife and will make it everyone's problem~

He may be operating on a teacher's salary, but is the most thoughtful gift-giver. Married!Izuku will choose experiences over 'things' when it comes to you, like vacationing to the largest library in the world where you can spend hours holed up on a loveseat somewhere, taking notes on all the old tomes you find, using those classic academia desks as if you were still at the 'study abroad' college where you met... Trip planning gives you both something to look forward to amidst your busy schedules, and takes the financial pressure off you both as well. Not that he won't still treat you to just about anything you ask for when you're giving him that sweet, small 'please' standing in the checkout line at the corner store...

Married!Izuku, who misses you adorably when you're not home. He runs a fairly typical working schedule that lines up with yours for the most part-- makes him the happiest, coming home to you! You adhere to a few sacred rules in your shared home: you always go to bed together, you can occasionally go to bed angry- but always remain in each other's corners, and you know giving him head scritches is the easiest way to make Izuku pliant enough to sleep. He'll nurse your migraines that aren't so pretty, you'll give his hands massages when the phantom pains make them ache. Whatever you can do to give your man some ease into his life, you give wholeheartedly.

You'll kiss Izuku's every trouble away; and the ones that linger, you'll tend to as gently as you can until you can replace the thoughts with something sweeter, kinder, delicately on his still-healing heart when the embers remind him of old hurts you weren't around to see. You care for Deku just as you do your darling Izuku- as they are two sides of the same coin. You polish and affirm them both, strengthening all the parts that have made your life partner the man he is today. That made him him.

Married!Izuku: your darling husband with eyes that light up when you enter a room, mist up when they see you down, and stare eternally grateful on you as you listen and take in every word he has to give and through every promise shared-- just like your vows.

[owuwi]

NATALIE SCATORCCIO

summary: she can't be into you, so why not distance herself?

pairings: natalie scatorccio x fem!r

warnings: angst, a tiny bit suggestive, detailed description of throwing up, internalized homophobia from natalie

2.0k words

Natalie wasn't into girls. She wasn't opposed to fucking them but she wasn't romantically attracted to them. Or at least that's what she thought until she started seeing you in a different way.

You were the whole package; not only were you easy on the eyes but you actually cared about Natalie. That's why she immediately started to distance herself from you the moment she realized that she was starting to get too attached.

A bit of context here; you were Nat's person. You were the only one who she trusted enough to talk about every single shit that happened to her. You were always there for her no matter what and she even tried to 'return the favor' and be there for you — though it didn't always work but at least she tried —.

You protected her, you defended her and she — grumpily — allowed you to. She'd be lying if she said that it didn't make her feel good, that it didn't make her feel safe, but she simply wasn't ready to admit it. She wasn't someone easy to be around, let alone date, so she thought that avoiding you was her way of protecting you back.

Your friends and even Natalie's didn't understand why you were so persistent about her, why you tried so hard to show people that she wasn't a bitch or any of those terrible things they called her, but you weren't doing it for them, you were doing it for Nat. You needed her to stop being so harsh on herself. Your efforts didn't go unnoticed by the dirtyblonde-haired girl, in fact, it only made her like you even more.

She skipped school today which was something you were already used to, but you were worried about her thanks to the fact that she hasn't been calling you back nor meeting you at your spot — yeah, you and Natalie had a secret place where you would meet each other before school —. That's why you built every ounce of courage and decided to pay her a visit after your classes.

Natalie's house — trailer — wasn't unknown to you but you never actually walked there without her permission. She was always telling you when to show up or not, and it was always at times when she was completely alone. You were obviously aware of the issues she had with her family which is why you never visited her unless she told you to, and you prayed that this visit wouldn't get her in trouble.

You knew she was home alone by the sight of her sitting on the stairs of her trailer, a bunch of light-out cigarets and a pair of empty bottles — most likely of booze — scattered around the pavement. Seeing Natalie like this pained you more than she understood but you knew you needed to be strong for her, that's why you walked closer to her, ready to help her in any way possible.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Natalie, though, didn't seem happy by your presence at all. The slim girl immediately stood up after letting out those slurred words, her voice as rough and deep as always.

You knew she was just drunk and payed no attention to her sharp tone of voice, instead, you took a deep breath and approached her even more. There was an odd tension between the two of you; the air suddenly thickening around you, the sounds of the trailer park muffling as your feet moved towards the girl.

"I asked you a question." She spoke again, looking at you with a mix of confusion and discomfort in her gaze. The way she was staring at you was enough to send shivers down your spine, a look you've never received from Natalie before.

Making her mad was definitely not going to be a good thing, especially not when you were trying to get answers for her startled behavior. "I was worried.." Is all that managed to come out of your mouth, your voice sounding shaky and stuttered. It was obvious that Nat was drunk — you could now smell the alcohol on her breath due to how close she was —, hence is why you understood that she wasn't in her right mind.

The girl in front of you simply scoffed, a cold, raspy noise coming from the back of her throat and slipping past her cut-clad lips. You'd be lying if you said you've never thought about kissing them, about feeling them pressing against every inch of your body. Though right now wasn't the moment to be thinking about that stuff, it was almost as if Natalie could read your mind; her eyebrows furrowing slightly as she stares at you.

"Leave me alone, don't you understand that i don't want you close to me? Or are you so fucking stupid that you can't realize something as simple like that?" She quickly asked again, but you could see the way her bottom lip was slightly trembling while she looks at you.

"What's going on, Nat? Why are you acting like this?" You couldn't help but to ask your friend, shifting even closer to her, your words dripping with serious concern and affection — which was definitely not helping her with her mixed feelings —.

Natalie wanted nothing more but to yell at you, to punch you until you were a bloody mess on the pavement, but she couldn't. There was never a violent — hell, not even a negative — thought about you in her mind. For her, you were perfect; an angel sent from heaven to keep her safe. Despite how fuzzy her head was due to all the alcohol and cigarets she had, you were all she could think about.

That's why she grabbed the collar of your shirt and crashed her lips against yours, so roughly that you swore your lips were going to bruise. It was a quick kiss, though messy and filled with anger, it wasn't enjoyable. You couldn't even kiss her back, your hands hovering over her sides but not fully resting against them. What were you supposed to do? Natalie kissed you like some sort of rabid animal — grunts slipping past her lips — and you could taste the cigarets and licor she previously had.

She pulled away some moments later, allowing her forehead to rest against your own, and everything was quiet for some moments. "Because of you... why can't you fucking see that?" She rasped out, her eyes slowly fluttering open to look at you.

There was an evident hint of lust in the girl's gaze but there was something else; a hint of fear glimmering in her eyes. You knew she wasn't doing well yet you couldn't bring yourself to say anything, you were paralyzed — her taste still lingering in your tongue —.

"I can't do this shit... you know that.." She continued talking before closing her eyes and pushing you away — which caused you to stumble back a bit —, acting as if you were the one who kissed her. She then ran her fingers through her ruffled hair, clearly trying to hold back her emotions.

Despite still being quite in shock, you knew that you needed to say something before she dugs herself further into this messy hole. That's why, after taking a deep breath and really thinking about your words, you speak up; "Y-You're... too drunk. Let me help you, please.." You weakly muttered out, offering her a small, almost shy smile before gently reaching out to grab her hand.

Now, Natalie was definitely not a touchy person. She actually hated to be touched — always flinching whenever someone got too close — but you were different. You were you, and she would always allow you to do whatever you wanted with her — though she wouldn't say it out loud —. So seeing the way she roughly slaps your hand away and then takes a step backwards hurt you more than you thought it could.

"Don't—...." She trailed off, looking at you with parted lips for a moment before lightly shaking her head side-to-side and then turning around. She sat down on the edge of the stairs once again, resting the back of her head against the door of the trailer. "Don't touch me.." She managed to continue her sentence, looking up at you like a kicked puppy.

Her eyes were red and filled with un-shed tears, her body visibly shaking, and you knew that was going on in her head. She needed her person right now — she needed you — and you could tell. Even though she was going to complain, you simply sat down next to her and then let out a sigh. You couldn't look at her, you were confused. Did Nat liked you? Did she wanted to be something more than just friends? Or was it the booze in her system? Millions of thoughts were racing through your mind until the sound of her voice snapped you back into reality.

"My uh... m-my dad's gonna be here any time soon... you should leave.." She warned you, looking over at you through hooded eyes, a hint of concern hidden in her words. Despite everything, she still cared about you.

"I'm not leaving you... especially not when you're like this." You quickly protested before bitting down on your bottom lip. An idea crossed your mind, an idea drunken-Natalie wouldn't enjoy, and you knew it was the right thing to do. Before the dirtyblonde-haired girl could say anything, you spoke again.

"You should come with me, you're in no state to see your—... dad." You then added, your voice cracking with nervous and even hesitation. There was a glimpse of anger noticeable in the girl's eyes for a moment before she looked away from you, her face turning into a wince before she threw up on the pavement.

You immediately grabbed her hair and hold it up for her, using your free hand to slowly rub soothing circles on her back — the fabric of her t-shirt soaked in cold sweat —. Natalie Scatorccio was probably the most stubborn person you've ever met, yet you hoped that she would allow you to help her in this moment.

"Please, just—... make it stop.." She weakly stuttered out, not being able to stop the warm liquid slipping past her lips. Natalie liked the effect of being drunk but she absolutely despised the consequences; puking and then being hangover the next day. The way she was acting like a little kid was only breaking your heart even more.

"C'mon..." You simply indicated before helping her get up, ignoring the putrefying smell of her vomit. You've helped Natalie during moments like this plenty of times yet you never truly realized how messed up it was; how fucked up it was.

The drunk girl was literally shaking, her body seeming much smaller than it ever did, and she was weak. She would never admit it but she was weak; she was so weak that she could barely walk on her own. If it wasn't for you, she'd probably be passed out on the cold floor, waiting for the inevitable to happen.

The next hours were a blur for the two of you; you managed to get her into your car and drove her to your house. Your family were — thankfully — out of town so you had your house to yourself. Natalie was mumbling nonsense under her breath the whole time you helped her into your place, you assisted her with brushing her teeth and even bathed her. In another time, another moment, the pair of you would've joked about this; you probably would've crack a joke or two, but this was different. Nat was barely conscious and she wasn't herself.

After giving her some fresh clothes, you lied her on your bed and she immediately passed out.

It was until midnight where she roused and she couldn't help but to break, tears rolling down the pale skin of her cheeks like a cascade. You obviously woke up yet you didn't say anything, you simply wrapped your arms around her figure and she allowed you to — she was so weak for you —.

With her head on your chest, she eventually calmed down, her lips parting to mumble out some simple words. "I'm so—... so sorry.."

[luna-writes-stuff]

As The World Falls Down, Nikolai Lantsov

Song link

Fanfic, fem! reader

Hurt/comfort, angst with fluff ending

Word count: 2650

Tw: IS IT STURMHUND OR STURMHOND BECAUSE IT SOUNDS GERMAN SO I’VE ALWAYS SAID/WRITTEN STURMHUND BUT NOW THE TUMBLR TAGS ARE TELLING ME IT’S STURMHOND (yes I’ve read the books). Unintended infidelity, marriage, slight heartbreaking, Luna is an Alina-defender 4 life. Let me know if I missed any????

Summary: Nikolai’s proposal to Alina was strictly political. It made for a perfect alignment, even if love was lacking. Both parties agreed to this. However, Alina doesn’t know Nikolai is technically already married, though not on his birth name. He didn’t think much of the proposal, but you did. And after days of avoiding him, he finally talks with you, and you have a much-needed heart to heart.

Requested by @naushtheaspiringauthor

Buy me a coffee/force me to write more

“There's such a sad love Deep in your eyes, a kind of pale jewel Open and closed Within your eyes.”

Sturmhund’s wife. Those were the words echoing around in your head. Sturmhund’s wife. Not Nikolai’s; Sturmhund’s. And the reality of it came crushing down after those awful words left his mouth.

You hadn’t officially married Nikolai. No - your contract stated his pseudonym. This was to ensure no hunters would come after you, trying to sell you for ransom or power. It was a very strategic move. Legally, you were bound to Sturmhund, but it was never something you and Nikolai had any difficulty with. He was Sturmhund after all, and between the two of you, that never stood in the way. It was weird to consider, but after only a couple weeks, you realised that the contract was the only thing that stated otherwise. Truth for you still was that you were married to Nikolai, and that had never been a lie.

Well, that came to stab you in the back after only a year.

“I'll place the sky Within your eyes.”

A reasonable part of your brain told you it was logical - it was smart. Of course Nikolai would propose to Alina. Politically, it made sense. It was a genius move. But the other eighty percent of your brain stenched from the betrayal. Seething fury and pain was buried deep underneath your skin, and no matter how nice and loving Alina had been, you couldn’t escape sneaking glares her way.

You never meant to. She was sweet and kind - she didn’t deserve it. But she was going to marry your husband. And he hadn’t even discussed it with you. That might have been the most painful about the entire ordeal: he never asked you.

It was never brought up in conversation, nor had he hinted towards it. It made you begin to wonder how long he had planned this out. And if he ever was going to tell you or ask you before proposing. Years spent with Nikolai before your marriage should have told you he would never do this out of love, but it felt like rubbing salt in a wound.

You hadn’t spoken to him in three days. In truth, you hadn’t seen him in three days. It might have been pettiness, but you were frightened you might do something stupid when you saw him again. So, you tried your very best to avoid him for as long as you could.

“There’s such a fooled heart Beatin' so fast. In search of new dreams A love that will last Within your heart.

Unfortunately, Nikolai wasn’t stupid. He knew you were avoiding him. He also knew exactly why. Then, every single time he tried to find you, something came in between. It was late at night, when he finally felt enough was enough. He had laid in his bed, staring up at the ceiling endlessly. Sleep hadn’t come easy to him these last few days. You weren’t even showing up in your shared room anymore. Your pillow had gotten uncomfortably cold, and the clothes in your shared closet hadn’t moved since he made his decision.

Sitting up straight, he ran a hand through his hair, casting a glance to the empty spot beside him. Then, he stood up, hastily pulling on his robe as he left the room. Everyone had gone to sleep already, and the last people in the halls were either half asleep or keeping a watchful eye. A brief nod of recognition was given his way as Nikolai walked through the chilling halls.

He had no idea where to even start looking. You wouldn’t be in the most obvious spots; he knew you better than that. Tolya and Tamar had refused to tell him anything, even though he was sure they knew something. Their attitude towards him had changed slightly after his exchange with Alina, and he was sure they didn’t agree either. He didn’t mention it. He knew they’d shout at him, and he had enough on his shoulders as it was.

“I'll place the moon Within your heart.”

At night, Tamar would visit you, sometimes going with you to get some food in the late hours of the night. It was the only moment you could be given any peace. Right now, though, you had been alone.

Sitting at the long empty table, you chewed on a sandwich, topped with your favourite condiments. It was the most enjoyment you could get out of your day, and it was best celebrated in silence.

Papers of negotiations and terms were sprawled out across the kitchen, some weapons sitting in the corner of the room, hidden from plain sight. It never surprised you. You knew everyone had to be on their toes. It made it easier for you to focus on other things.

Like this delicious sandwich. “As the pain sweeps through Makes no sense for you. Every thrill is gone, Wasn't too much fun at all.”

“I might have known,” You heard from the entrance of the dining room, successfully drawing your attention. An unwanted scowl climbed onto your face as you stood up, holding the sandwich in one hand and the plate in another.

“I was just leaving,” You spoke with a full mouth, placing the plate in the sink, before making your way to the doorway. Not giving him another word, you pushed past him. “Wait,” He mumbled, grabbing your shoulder, forcing you to stop. You shrugged it off, turning around to face him. He looked slightly betrayed at the gesture, but composed himself quickly. “Can we not talk?”

“About?” You asked, disinterest in your voice. “Your new wife? She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” “Darling-“ Nikolai tried, but you had already turned around. “Goodnight, your highness.”

So, maybe you wanted to run up to him, sob into his shoulder and voice all your worries. Maybe, internally, that is what you needed most. But the mere sight of him now caused your blood to boil. And you could weep around that thought. Where he had once managed to make your heart skip a beat every time he looked at you, it now caused it to sink in agony. He made an oath to love you and no other. He made a promise. And political or not, it stung.

“But I'll be there for you. As the world falls down. Falling in love.”

You weren’t surprised when his quick feet caught up with you almost immediately, then slowing down to match your pace. You hated that he did that. He always did that. Asshole.

“Listen, I should have discussed this with you,” “Should you?” You interrupted, not halting your movement. “I don’t know. It’s not as if I am your wife or anything.” “Darling, please,” Nikolai pleaded, now grabbing your upper arms and keeping you in place, turning you to face him. “I love you, and only you. You know this.”

You didn’t respond to this, your eyes casting to the floor instead. You couldn’t see the change in Nikolai’s features upon your silence. You didn’t see how his eyebrows furrowed in heartbreak as his eyes reflected the same sadness you had felt this entire time. “You know that I love you, right?” He repeated, his voice now unsure.

The silence that followed was as terrifying to you as it had been to him. He hadn’t meant to make you feel this way. When he proposed, he didn’t think much of it, expecting you wouldn’t think much of it either. But the opposite finally appeared to be true, and now being directly faced with it, Nikolai cursed himself for not seeing it earlier.

“I'll paint you mornings of gold. I'll spin you Valentine evenings though we're strangers 'til now. We're choosing the path Between the stars.”

“Hey,” He tried, his hands gently falling from your arms as one of his fingers tapped your chin, causing you to redirect your gaze from the floor to his face. “You know I love you, right?”

Your lower lip trembled lightly as you let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know anymore, Nikolai.” “Oh, darling,” he sighed, wrapping his arms around you as he forced you into his embrace. And finally, after three days, you broke, your eyes breaking its dams as tears began to stream down your face, your shoulders shaking with your sobs.

“There is no one in the world I could ever love other than you,” Nikolai assured, his head resting atop yours as his fingers began to rub soothing patterns on your back. “Please, do not think you are anything less to me than everything.” “Why wouldn’t you ask me?” You sobbed, not looking up at him, instead keeping your head buried in his chest.

“I don’t know,” He answered truthfully. “I didn’t mean much by the proposal. I didn’t think too much of it as anything other than a paper.” He continued, placing a comforting kiss on top of your head. “And because of that, I didn’t think you would make much of it either.” “You were wrong.” You countered, your hands now grasping the back of his robe. “I know that now.” Then, he moved his head, looking down at you. “And I should have asked you before. I see that error.”

“I'll leave my love Between the stars.”

“If you had asked,” You started, your voice unsure. “And I would have said no, would you have still asked her?” A beat of silence echoed, before you felt him shake his head. “I wouldn’t have.”

You raised your head at this, your teary eyes forcing contact with his, seeking his face for any hint of deception. When you couldn’t find any, you sighed heavily. “I want to understand,” you muttered. “But part of me feels so betrayed.” “I know,” Nikolai whispered, one hand making its way to your face, wiping away stray tears. “And I do not blame you for this.”

“Alina is lovely,” you continued. “She doesn’t know we’re married. She doesn’t do this to harm me. Yet, part of me envies her so much. Every time I see her, I just want to punch her in the face.” That got a tiny chuckle out of him. “She doesn’t deserve that, Nikolai.” You scolded. “No, but it’s a little funny.”

“As the pain sweeps through Makes no sense for you. Every thrill is gone Wasn't too much fun at all.”

When his laughter died down, he looked at you in sincerity. “I can break it off,” He decided. “Easily. It wouldn’t hurt her feelings. In truth, I do not think she feels anything for me. She is lovesick over Mal.” “Nikolai,” You interrupted him. “As someone who wishes to end this war, I see that this would be a good solution.” He shook his head. “And as my wife?”

When you thought about it for some time, Nikolai filled the silence. “The brutal truth.” He clarified. “Don’t make me feel good about myself.” You shrugged at that, your features falling slightly. “I’d ask for both your hands. Not just one.”

With those words, Nikolai’s hands intertwined with yours, squeezing them affectionately. “Then, you shall have them.” A heavy feeling settled into the pit of your stomach, the ominous truth lurking over your shoulders, almost laughing at you menacingly. “The people need an end to all of this.” “There are other ways to solve this war. Other, peaceful ways.” Nikolai countered, pulling you back into his embrace.

“But I'll be there for you. As the world falls down. As the world falls down. Falling in love.”

When he didn’t feel you copy his hold, he continued talking. “Marriage was option one. There are a hundred others.” “You could have started with these.” You mumbled, wiping the final few tears off your face. “Well, this one was the easiest,” Nikolai explained. “But I think that keeping my one true wife is worth the struggle.”

The lump in your throat began to slowly vanish at those words, anxiety still there, although less severe. As if he sensed it, Nikolai broke his hold on you. “Come morning, I’ll talk to Alina. You have my word.” Your hand shot to your arm as you rubbed it, trying to distract yourself. “I think it’s just the looming threat of the darkling.”

Cocking his head from side to side, the prince agreed with you. “It is terrifying.” “What if we cannot win this?” You questioned, doubt heavy on your mind. You knew it was on Nikolai’s too, but he had always been better at hiding it. Royal training tends to do that to you. “For the first time in years, we have a chance,” he assured. “And if not, I’ll die protecting that which I love.” You raised your eyebrows at this, already knowing what was coming, but you gave him the chance to say it out loud: “That’s you.”

Finally, a small smile climbed onto your face. “Sap.” “You married me for it.”

“As the world falls down Falling in love. As the world falls down.”

The late hour had started to dawn on you, exhaustion slipping back into your features. You were too tired to think more of the war, and make the issue bigger than it was. You spoke with Nikolai, which hadn’t been on your list of things to immediately get to. Be that as it may, it brought enough relief, and you found yourself slightly grateful for him stalking the halls late at night.

“Promise to not propose to anyone ever again?” You asked, trying to leave the matter for what it was. “Not ever after I asked you?” Nikolai retorted in a joking manner. You didn’t laugh at this. “That was a joke.” He clarified.

“It wasn’t funny.” “I know,” He quickly corrected himself, wiping the smile off his face, sincerity shown once again. “That was too soon.” You nodded at him, but leaned into his side, offering him some form of assurance.

“Makes no sense at all. Makes no sense to fall. As the world falls down Falling in love.”

“Come back to bed, my love. I haven’t slept well in days.” He muttered, an arm wrapping around your figure as he held you against him. “Neither have I.” You confessed, which caused him to look at you in slight confusion. “Truly?” When you nodded at him, he nodded his head, seemingly lost in thought. “Well, you wouldn’t say. You still look absolutely breathtaking.” You couldn’t suppress the heat rising to your face at his words, your heart skipping a beat.

When he didn’t speak after that, you took it as your queue to fill it. “I’m sorry.” You voiced. Furrowing his eyebrows, Nikolai squeezed your shoulder. “You have nothing to apologise for,” His feet began to walk through the halls, dragging you with him as he made sure to match your pace. “You were completely in the right to question my decisions and feel hurt because of it. My mistake was thinking that my reason for actions would be interpreted the same for everyone.” He cleared his throat as he thought over his own actions of the past few weeks with regret. “Clearly, that is not the case, and I know that now.”

The second smile of the night climbed upon your face as you looked up at him. “Are you apologising to me now?” “Shh,” He shushed you quickly. “Don’t tell the others.” You shook your head, nudging his side slightly. A content grin spread on Nikolai’s face as he looked down at you. “I love you, darling.” He shared. “Will you say it back?”

Giving him one fake-hesitant look, you gave him a joking nod. “I love you too.” His free hand grasped yours, bringing it up to his lips as he placed a light kiss on top of it.

“Thank you.”

“As the world falls down. Falling in love.”

[twilghtkoo]

in which, haechan just wants to take care of you

pairings. haechan x reader (f)

genre. comfort, fluff, established relationship

warnings. mentions of blood, reader is on her period

notes. i started my period today and i get easily pissed off and sad and my dad pissed me off and i was like “what would make me better and not scream my head off?” haechan. so enjoy <33

—

haechan was mildly confused when he had heard a familiar voice next to him cursing and moaning in pain, his boyfriend instincts kicked in instantaneously when the familiar voice is you. he had pushed himself up to look over to his left, your face is curled up into his pillow along with your fist under your chin and your other hand is holding your forehead. he softly pulls the comforter off of you and noticed your knees were up to your chest.

he quickly but gently rubs your arm to wake you up. “baby, what’s wrong?” you only whimper in your half-asleep form.

“baby, wake up. you’re scaring me.” he mumbles next to you.

oh, you’re not sick.

mother nature has gifted you the monthly four day hell.

you wake up after a minute of haechan mumbling over you and rubbing your arm, tiredly turning on your side to grab your phone and check the time.

“hyuck, you have to get ready for work.” you try to shoo him away, gripping the comforter that was discarded off of you and snuggling back under the blanket up to your chin.

haechan lightly chuckles, “i have a bit before i have to start getting ready. you were making sounds like you were in pain and i got worried.”

sighing, you reply, “i’m okay, just lay back down with me.” you sneak your hand out from the blanket and tap the empty spot next to you.

he squints his eyes at you. he knows you’re lying. there is definitely something wrong and his boyfriend instincts are always right.

yet, he huffs. sliding back down underneath the covers facing you. your eyes are closed and your eyebrows are slightly furrowed, the wrinkled skin between your brows makes him itch to rub them away.

his hand twitches under the blanket, but another whimper escapes from you.

“i fucking hate this shit,” you cursed under your breath as you turn to lie on your back, your face facing the ceiling.

“baby,” he softly calls out, sitting back up. the way those words naturally came out your mouth so plainly caught him off guard.

you finally open your eyes and look up at his worried face. “it’s just my period, i’m fine.” you brush it off with a forced smile, another sharp, dull pain stabs you in the abdomen making you sigh in defeat.

your first day was always the worst. waking up with a headache, the painful cramps, the heavy bleeding, how easily you get ticked off or how easily something can make you cry. you hated it.

“why didn’t you just say so babe?” haechan is quick to crawl out of bed and walk over to your side.

“let’s go to the bathroom.” he says, holding out his hands expectantly. you stare at him with the softest and most defeated look that would’ve made him coo and kiss the hell out of you.

with your arms and legs wrapped around him like a koala, you allow him to carry you to the bathroom and onto the toilet seat.

he stands in front of you with his hands on his hips for a moment.

“are you gonna watch me pee and put on a pad?” you ask slowly.

he pouts, “what if you faint on the toilet?”

“i’m not gonna faint, hyuck.” you roll your eyes, before pausing. “may you get me my–“

he nods, “your favorite shorts and a pair of underwear. got it.” and he’s out the bathroom.

when you and haechan started dating, he was never really bothered or disgusted by your menstrual cycles, having a younger sister and knowing it was just a natural human thing for women. but haechan was actually so fucking sweet and loving to you on your period. at first, you were weirdly disturbed a bit on how he wanted to wait with you in the bathroom while you peed or change your pad. he defended himself saying that he just wanted to make sure you were okay and he just wanted to be with you.

after awhile, it never bothered you anymore. he sometimes sits on the counter and shows you funny tiktoks that show up on his for you page or he’ll prepare your pad and underwear for you. he noticed how you always wore the same adidas shorts on your period with one of his shirts that fit you a bit too big. but it’s so cozy to you.

he comes back with your change of clothes, placing them on the counter next to you. before you could grab your undies, haechan had beat you to it and is already unwrapping your pad.

you mumble a ‘thank you’ as you watch him place the pad on correctly like you taught him. he just hums and hands your underwear to him as he grabs the clothes you woke up in and tore off just a few seconds ago and tosses them in his hamper.

“i’ll bring cereal for us, go lie down and put on that new anime.” he instructs you.

he came back with two bowls of lucky charms, giving you the bowl that had more milk in it because he knows you love to drink the milk after. and without asking him to, he had brought medicine for you to take for your cramps and headache. both of you had time to watch an episode before he had to get ready for schedules today, leaving you his card so you could order food for lunch. he promises to come back soon and to be home for dinner, kissing you on the lips and forehead. letting his lips linger a bit longer on your lips before he leaves his bedroom with his backpack.

[return-to-ravenbrooks]

Return to Ravenbrooks:

Biography

Entry 3

Name: Maritza Esposito

Date of Birth: 1997

Gender: F

Current Address: 910 Friendly Court

Height: 5'5

Hair color: Black

Eye color: Green

Key features: Shaved head, prosthetic leg, custom-made bat

Role: Defender

Abilities: Boxing, strength, speed

Occupation: [REDACTED]

Status: Fair

Biography:

If I had a nickel for every time a little argument or scuffle emerged between Nicky and anyone else in the newly formed "Ravenbrooks Investigation Club" I could get one of those nice professional metal bats. Maybe then I could practice my swinging instead of just sitting back and kicking my legs on the arm of Trinity's couch while they scuffed.

Usually, it was nothing. Stress boiled into anger and frustration. Usually, some yelling and gritted teeth and nothing more.

But today wasn't a nothing more day. Today things began to get heated again. Trinity brought up going into the old house again. The stress of investigating must've been getting to her like it's getting to all of us because she shoves him, hard. His head hit the wall hard enough that the thud made us wince. I jerked upwards out of my seat. If it'd been a few months ago I wouldn't have. Nicky had a hard time forming a proper fist, let alone throwing a punch. He was a flighter, not a fighter. But now? I don't know if that strength had the real temper behind it to do anything, but if somehow someway this did get violent?

I didn't have to take a full step before something distracted all of us.

Knocking.

The lot of us exchanged glances. Trinity's parents wouldn't have knocked on their own front door, and they, like most of the parents in Ravenbrooks were away at parent-teacher night.

I leaned toward the living room window, peeking out at the front step. I have to close the curtain and open them again, then again. Like somehow that'll make the familiar face change into someone else.

"...Who is it?" Trinity asks finally.

"A boy and-" I stop, having to think my words out carefully, "...The Carrion's kid..." I mumbled. The words are meaningless to her ears, but I can feel Enzo's eyes widen.

Ivan was the one who opened the door at last, and without a word, the two boys rushed in. They looked awful. An all too familiar level of awful. The taller boy, whose head was decorated with strawberry-blonde hair tangled with sticks and leaves, and what I slowly realize is blood. It's smeared across his face and around tear-stained eyes. His name is Damien, I think, but out of the two of them, it's the boy he's gripping tightly I'm focused on.

He looks different without the thick black eyeshadow and old all-black clothes. Instead, the boy's face is covered in bruises, scratches, and blood. His left eye is swollen shut and there's blood dripping from his mouth. He's dressed in shredded brown shorts and a hoodie much too big for his frame. I can only assume it was Damien's.

No one wanted to take the time to explain the Carrion family to Trinity. It felt dumb and unnecessary. What good was 'Hey did you know there's ANOTHER weirdo family in Ravenbrooks?' What help was it to talk about Lucy Yi's funeral, and the boy from the rich old family who stood up in front of a crowd of sobbing adults and talked about how graceful her corpse looked?

Dad interviewed his parents after it happened, or tried to at least. Apparently, they slammed the door in his face, violently. Stopped showing their faces in public. "I'd be a shut-in two if my creepy son ruined my family name" he muttered angrily after the fact. Hard cut-offs from rich snobs were an annoying barricade to reporters everywhere.

There's such a long period of silence. Empty cold silence and Trinity got out a first aid kit. Enzo cleared his throat finally, but didn't speak.

"...What happened to you, Zach?" I looked up from my spot on the couch. I was surprised to see Nicky speaking, his arms crossed anxiously over his chest. There was almost an heir of demand in his question. Like he of all people was owed an answer. I fought the urge to scoff.

"We... I-" Zach's lip trembled, showing off how busted it up was. If it weren't for the nature of the town, I would've thought he was mugged. His trembles turned into violent sobs again. Damien, who was seemingly deep in thought until now, was snapped into reality by this.

"...Can we trust you guys not to tell anyone?" Damien asked. We all exchanged glances suspiciously, and worriedly, then nodded. He took a long breath. "We were having a sleepover at my house." He said quietly, chewing his lip like he was preparing his words. "I- I don't know if my parents put something in our food or what, but for some reason, we were feeling really tired before the sun had even set, so we went to bed. By some miracle I woke up maybe an hour later and- he was gone... so was my parent's car."

He sat there for a minute like that was enough explanation for their busted-up state.

"...and then?" I prodded. His eyes snapped to me, blinking and chewing his lips in the unsure thinking way again.

"Oh- uh... right. Well-... listen. You- you guys really can't tell anyone about this. Please." He pled.

"We won't," Trinity promised again, this time aloud. She ripped the end of the bandage on his arm, tying it off.

"Well- I'd been getting suspicious of my parents, they always get weird and clingy when Zach visits, and other times they'll disappear for the whole night- so- so I put a tracker on their car." He inhaled after the reveal. Silence again. "...and- I followed the car to the old weather station."

Even breathing seemed to stop in silence as he described the scene to us, the weird tunnel, and the people in robes, two of whom he said he recognized as his parents. Who else could've brought Zach there?

"...what were they doing?" Trinity asked nervously.

"I don't know for sure, something about attempting to 'repeat the steps'. All I know is the group went from quiet and mysterious to- really violent." Zach began to sob again.

"A pit..." he whispered between large tears that matched his wide blue-grey eyes. "Th-they wanted to push me into a pit..."

"I grabbed whatever I could get my hands on around me, I think it was a metal rod from some piece of old machinery. I swung it at their heads. Then there was this- flash of blinding light and- I don't remember much of what happened next..." he admitted. "All I remember is that as soon as I could reach him I grabbed Zach's hand and ran through the forest. We didn't stop to breathe until we saw your house." He looked at Trinity. "You guys are the ones investigating 'whatever evil crap this town is built on' after all, aren't you?" Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Nicky's shoulders raise awkwardly as he rubbed his arm.

The last time I checked, helping the hippy kid whose parents are, apparently, attempted child murderers and the creepy boy whose dad gives money to crows wasn't in the club's mission statement. But there was this spark in Trinity's eyes. It reminded me of the spark she'd gotten months ago, standing infront of Peterson's house in the middle of the night.

"it's us, or it's nobody."

[antiromanticbaby]

♡ Yandere Mammon Headcanons - Acquisitiveness ♡

♡ .❝ 𝐍𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝, 𝐰𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝. ❞

𝗚𝗥𝗘𝗘𝗗 /ɡriːd/ Intense and selfish desire for something, especially wealth, power, or attention.  'Perhaps messing with the embodiment of Greed was not all fun and games." 

♡ .❝ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐬. ❞

Yandere Mammon; who wasn't one to obsess over anything that wasn't money, but you managed to make him do such a thing. Everything he did from the moment he first saw you, was with the thought of you. You were everywhere, in everything he saw. And yet, he wondered if you ever saw him in the same light or not.

Yandere Mammon; who stayed awake late at night, sneaking out and going on car rides, imagining you on the empty spot of his passenger's seat. There was always a certain longing in his eyes, one that even Luke had took notice of. No one knew what were his exact thoughts, but Lucifer found them to be nothing but trouble.

Yandere Mammon; who bought his outfits in hopes of matching with you. He loved you, he adored you, because you were his first. The first to truly believe in him, defend him, show him sympathy and captivate him. Oh how often he gazed at his photos, even the ones on Majolish's magazine cover, wondering how you would look posing with him. His everyday life revolved around you and it was only fair if yours revolved around him too.

Yandere Mammon; who had multiple pictures of you in the weirdest places of his room. He was so glad you never paid too much attention to certain parts of his room, or else he was doomed. For example, that one safe box full of money and valuable stuff? Thanks goodness you never caught the sight of all your pictures inside the box. From you just walking to RAD, to you sleeping and showering.

Yandere Mammon; who was doubted and underestimated by many, yet always remembered that he was the greedy second born, the most powerful after Lucifer. He had crows under his power, wealth on its knees in front of him and a speed no one else in the household possessed. It was only natural for you to be followed by crows and wealth, no matter where you walked upon. It didn't matter if you noticed anything odd or not, even if you did, he would say this was an order from Lucifer or Diavolo, to keep you safe.

Yandere Mammon; who was always so attached to you that you never noticed the red flags, not until it was too late. First it was his brothers, he wouldn't let any of them near you. Then your friends and classmates, and soon enough he wasn't even letting you back to the human realm. It didn't matter if he got teased about being your 'lap dog' or whatever they called it, he only cared about you, you, and you.

Yandere Mammon; who doesn't like you get scared. He hates to see you sad, in pain, or even crying. Those tears of yours made his heart shatter. This made him less threatening toward you, more dangerous for the people looking your way. While some demons like Lucifer or Satan would've locked you up in their room, Mammon didn't want to use such a straightforward approach. No no, he would lock you mentally and cling onto you no matter where you went. They way he was sure that even if someone did approach you, you would only think of him, him and him.

Yandere Mammon; who would never harm you but will make sure the ones who dare take your attention get harmed in the worst ways possible. Please don't be bothered by his selfishness, it's just in his nature. It's just his sin. To desire you as his selfishly.

Yandere Mammon; who had you befriending his little familiars and assigned them as your 'bodyguard' when you weren't around. Oh my dear human, those ravens were your invisible chains. Mammon was not just a good model, he was a good actor too. He may blush a lot and stammer when around you, but that's completely normal, isn't it? Specially when the topic of death comes up. Mammon, why is there hints of blood on little Raven's beak?

Yandere Mammon; who would never let you go. Because you were made for him, and he was made for you, no one else. Even death wouldn't be able to pull you away from him, he would make sure of it.

♡ .❝ 𝐍𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦. ❞

Obey Me Yandere headcanons: [Lucifer] [Mammon (you're here)] [Leviathan] [Asmodeus] [wip]

[yan-lorkai]

This isn't a request just a fun thought.

Imagine that Sebby threatened his darling by saying that he would kill darling's family or people close to them because they misbehaved and darling looks at him skeptically and says: "I don't think that's possible...I'm an orphan and an introvert, the only creature closest to me is my cat." And then darling panics

"Please don't kill my cat!"

(😂I'm kinda curious about his reaction lol)

The way I started laughing when I imagined his reaction 🤣🤣

He would be so shocke that you think he would kill a cat. A beautiful little cat who may or may not scratch him because it realized its owner is nervous and want to defend them lmao

Ok here u go a very little drabble, darling!

"I will kill your parents, your friends. Is that what you want, darling?" He asks dangerously, evil smile displayed on his handsome face as he looked at his darling, hoping to see you shivering and frightened. Instead you look at him with uncertainty.

"I don't have anyone, I'm an orphan, plus I'm not good at this whole communication thing so I don't really have any friends." You almost want to laugh, feeling a little triumph over this little win. You have to commemorate every little win, as usually Sebastian is the winner in any and all little fights you have. Not this time. Though your smugness melt the moment you cat enter the bedroom, lazily searching for a spot to take a nap. You both look at the cat for different reasons.

Sebastian adores felines and has a bad tendencie to want to hold and pet it everytime he see your cat. You though reach out for your cat before he can even touch it, afraid for it. You were the one who misbehaved and you should be the one punished, not your cat. Your cat would be safe, always. The little bundle of joy and energy meowed loudly at you. You stared at Sebastian, frowning.

"You ain't gonna hurt my baby. No way, I'II find a way to exorcise you or something if you try." There's a urgency rolling from your tongue and making its way to your entire body, panic starting to settling in. And contrary to what you thought Sebastian would do, he laughs, he doubles over with laughter, using the bench as a way to steady himself.

A very long minute goes by before he pulls himself together. "I would never hurt this lovely creature, look at it. Those cute whiskers, the little eyes, the way the tail wags. Though I'm quite offended you think so low of me, darling."

You stare at him as if he suddenly is pretending to be dumb. "You said you would kill the most important person alive for me and that is my cat. Be warned if anything happen to my baby, I know it was your doing."

Honestly he is far more concerned you think he would kill the cat than fazed by all the empty threats you're making. Though he reassures you he won't harm nor kill the cat, in fact, the cat is so spoiled and well fed that Sebastian is proud of him since he takes good care of your cat. Secretly he thinks of it as your child, not that he ever going to admit it.

[virgoilluminati]

World Class

Chapter 3

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A/N: So I basivally wrote this whole ass chapter and then tumblr went and deleted it..... bro was not happy. But hey I just rewrote it now for you all so your welcome. Hopefully it isn't completely awful. Enjoy :)

(Ps this is a walsh + bronze ship story too, so dont get offended cos i love them together :))

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: angst? Mentions of death

keirawalsh & lucybronze

Liked by lionesses, y/nmorrison and 93,000 others

keirawalsh early mornings on the greatest place on earth

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leahwilliamsonn this is where you two sneaked off too before breakfast!

y/nmorrison the fact most of us had to completely collapse after the session last night and you two decided to go for an early walk 🤦🏻‍♀️

lucybronze what can I say, gotta get them gains 💪💪

The breakfast table buzzed with conversations, laughter, and the clinking of cutlery as you, a member of the England women’s football team, contemplated the daunting task of choosing breakfast from the tempting buffet spread.

“Mary, I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, your eyes fixed on the mouthwatering options.

Mary Earps, the team’s talented goalkeeper, sympathized, sighing softly. “I know, we just have to choose.”

“But it’s so hard,” you lamented, your stomach growling in protest.

“I know. Do I go for a savory breakfast or something sweet? I’m supposed to be on a diet.”

“Let’s just get the fruit salad and then see how we feel,” Mary suggested, attempting to make a healthy choice.

With your breakfast choices in hand, you made your way over to the table where the rest of your teammates were seated. As you started to dig into your food, Leah, one of your fellow players, entered the room and frowned slightly, spotting the empty seats next to you.

“Where are Lucy and Keira?” Leah inquired.

“They’ve snuck out again,” Alex responded with a grin.

“Again!” Ella chimed in.

“Yeah, they’re making a habit of it,” Mary added.

Curious about the potential romance between Lucy and Keira, you leaned in closer to the conversation. “Do you think those two are…” You hesitated, not wanting to interrupt.

“Those two are what?” Ella asked, her eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“I don’t know, seeing each other,” you finally managed to say.

Laughter erupted around the table as your teammates realized your innocence. Ella, still chuckling, replied, “Oh, you, it’s so obvious. How have you only figured it out now?”

Blushing, you joined in the laughter, grateful for the camaraderie and warmth of your teammates. Breakfast discussions were more than just food; they were about friendship, support, and the occasional secret romance that managed to escape your keen observation.

As conversations divided into different groups, you found yourself immersed in discussions about potential Arsenal transfers with Leah. Then, Greenwood, known for her playful spirit, introduced a new topic.

“I know how about we play a game of Dead or Alive,” Greenwood proposed.

“That sounds… interesting,” you replied, intrigued but uncertain.

“No, it’s not like that,” Greenwood clarified with a grin. "Basically we go around the room and discuss what footballers we'd like to have breakfast with;dead or alive."

“I’ll start,” Ella declared confidently. “Cristiano Ronaldo.”

“Pft, please. Messi is the GOAT,” Alessia responded, sparking a friendly debate between the two.

As Ella passionately defended Ronaldo’s abilities, she couldn’t help but glance over at Alessia, who was adamantly championing Messi. “Alessia, seriously, you must see that Ronaldo’s athleticism and versatility make him stand out!”

Alessia grinned, ready with her counter-argument. “But Ella, Messi’s ball control and creative genius on the field are unmatched. He makes the impossible seem routine!”

Their heated discussion captivated the attention of the entire group, creating a playful rivalry that echoed the global footballing debate.

Meanwhile, Milly’s voice cut through the Messi vs. Ronaldo debate as she chimed in, “Maradona. Hands down.”

“I second that,” Mary declared from across the room, solidifying her agreement with Milly’s choice.

Amidst the lively banter, the conversation once again shifted towards Leah’s unique choice in the “Dead or Alive” game. Her unwavering commitment to selecting her teammates was met with a mixture of amusement and cringe-inducing reactions.

Leah, now the center of attention, defended her choice with a grin. “I’d be with this group of people!”

The room fell into a brief silence, broken only by a collective groan and laughter as her teammates playfully teased her. “Leah, that’s… different! Is there really no one else?” someone inquired with a smirk.

Leah, ever steadfast, reiterated her preference. “Nope. I’d want to be with you guys. We’re all history makers!”

Ella, never one to let an opportunity pass, prodded further, “Okay, then, out of all of us, who would you pick?”

Leah hesitated momentarily, but the teasing encouragement from her teammates eventually won her over. “You can’t make me do that."

Mary, with a mischievous grin, added to the pressure, “Yes, she can.”

Leah finally turned her head towards you, who was quietly enjoying your tea amidst the ongoing discussions. “I’d choose Y/N. She’s pretty cool, you know.”

The room erupted into laughter once again, the tension in the conversation dissolving into shared amusement and camaraderie. The breakfast table was a place not just for food but for the deep connections and lighthearted moments that made this group of footballers a true family on and off the pitch.

But before the conversation could move on, someone asked, “You’d choose Noah, no?”

Your heart skipped a beat as a wave of emotions washed over you. Noah,, was a sore subject. Guilt gnawed at you because you had made it to the Women’s World Cup while Noah’s dreams had been cut short. Uncertain how to react, you felt vulnerable.

In that moment, you decided to mask your emotions with a laugh, albeit a shaky one. “Oh yeah, probably him! Haha.”

Your teammates recognized your discomfort and quickly changed the subject, wanting to ease the weight off your shoulders. Williamson, always considerate, stepped in, directing a question to Alessia about her transfer to Arsenal.

Alessia, appreciating the diversion, animatedly explained her move, and you silently thanked your teammates for their understanding. Your thoughts briefly returned to Noah, a constant presence in your heart, and the complex mix of emotions you carried with you. Amidst the laughter and camaraderie, you found solace in the support of your teammates, knowing that they were not just a team on the field but a family that understood and cared for each other’s burdens and joys.

Lucy and Keira made their way to the breakfast table, casually sitting down with apologetic smiles on their faces. "Sorry we're late, guys. We kind of overslept," Lucy explained, and Keira nodded in agreement, adding, "Yeah, it was a long night." Their late arrival raised eyebrows from everyone else around them, but not wanting to question it any further, the group simply dug into their breakfasts and started discussing life with each other.

As Lucy dived into her breakfast, she couldn't help but notice you, who seemed more interested in playing with your food than actually eating it. Concern gnawed at her, but she decided not to intrude on your moment and instead waited patiently until the meal's end to approach you.

Once the plates were nearly empty, Lucy turned to you with a warm smile. "Hey, Y/N. Mind if I join you for a moment?"

You looked up from your plate, pushing around your food. A faint smile touched your lips as you replied, "Sure, Lucy. What's up?"

Lucy leaned in a bit closer, lowering her voice. "I've noticed you're not really eating, and you seem a bit distant. Is everything okay?"

Your smile faded slightly, and you hesitated for a moment. "I've just been feeling a bit off lately. It's nothing major, just some stress and worries."

Lucy nodded understandingly. "I get it. We all have our moments. Sometimes, a walk by the beach can help clear your mind. If you ever want to talk or just take a break like this, I'm here for you."

Your smile brightened again, appreciating the offer. "Thanks, Lucy. That sounds nice."

As breakfast came to an end, Lucy decided to put her words into action. "Well, it's still early, and I thought maybe we could take a walk down to the beach. Clear our heads, you know?"

You, though confused by the unexpected gesture, was intrigued. "A walk to the beach? Okay, sounds nice. Let's go."

You both left the breakfast table behind, heading towards the beach together, leaving behind uour concerns and worries for a while, lost in the serene beauty of the early morning waves.

Lucy and you sat on the edge of the football field, their legs dangling over the side as they caught their breath after a rigorous practice session running along the beach. The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden hue over the field, creating a tranquil atmosphere.

You turned to Lucy, her eyes filled with curiosity. "What made you want to be a footballer, Lucy?"

Lucy leaned back, propping herself up on her elbows and staring up at the darkening sky. "Dunno. Always liked it. PE was about the only thing I was good at. And well, it was always fun to beat the boys. Why?"

You hesitated, her gaze shifting to the grass beneath her feet. "Dunno. It doesn't matter-"

Lucy sensed something was bothering You. She nudged you gently. "No, what is it?"

You sigh and finally admitted, "I just feel like sometimes I don't deserve to be here, you know. Like maybe someone else should have my place."

Lucy's eyes widened with empathy. She turned her head to look at you directly. "Hey! That's not true. You're brilliant! Yesterday is a prime example of it."

Your uncertainty lingered as she mumbled, "Hmm."

Lucy reached out and put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "Trust me, Sarina doesn't pick just anyone. She chose you for a reason. You need to accept that."

You nodded slowly, still not entirely convinced. "I know. I just feel like-"

Lucy interrupted, changing the subject, "Your family must be so proud."

You sighed, your expression growing somber. She picked at a blade of grass absentmindedly. "Hmm. No, that would be great, but uh... they kinda see football as the thing that killed my brother, so uh... we just avoid the topic."

Lucy's face softened, sympathy in her eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry, Y/N-"

You shook her head, managing a small smile. "Don't be. I have Jude and I have my dad, and now I have this group. I am truly blessed. I just can't speak about it at home, that's all."

Lucy nodded in understanding. "Just know, family isn't always blood. We look out for each other, alright? If you're ever in doubt of your place, which you shouldn't be, come speak to us, alright?"

Your smile grew, genuine gratitude in your eyes. "Thank you, Lucy. I needed to hear that." You both sat there, watching the sun dip below the horizon, the bonds of their friendship strengthening with each passing day.

From that moment onwards, Lucy took on a role in your life that went beyond just being a teammate. She became like an older sister to you, always there to lend a supportive ear and offer guidance. Her concern for your well-being extended beyond the football field.

Lucy made it her mission to ensure that you were okay, both physically and emotionally. She’d check in with you regularly, asking about your day, your struggles, and your dreams. You appreciated the genuine care Lucy showed her, and it helped ease her feelings of self-doubt.

But Lucy wasn’t just all sweetness and comfort. She also knew how to push you to be your best self. During practice sessions, Lucy would challenge you to give your all, to push past your limits, and to believe in your own abilities. She’d remind you of the talent and potential that Sarina saw in you.

Your bond strengthened with each passing day. Lucy’s presence became a source of strength for you, and you found yourself growing more confident on and off the field. Lucy’s tough love and unwavering support became the driving force behind your determination to prove yourself.

lionesses + england

Liked by ,chloekelly,alessiarusso and 120,000 others

lionesses How brilliant was y/n today! First world cup and senior women's debut

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germanywasrobbed Yeh, kept stumbling over everyone...

y/nisno.1 @germanywasrobbed your still bitter about the euros....

user124 she is actually so iconic

user890 legend 🔥

user3516 starting lineup soon? Morrison, James and Russo - a trio we'd love to see!

You spent most of the World Cup matches observing the action from the substitute bench, a place you'd grown far too familiar with. You knew you were not as seasoned or experienced as your teammates, many of whom had been part of the national team for years. As the tournament progressed, you often found yourself itching to be on the pitch, to contribute to the team's success.

However, your moment finally arrived during the crucial game against China in the group stages. It was the final few minutes of the match, and your coach decided it was time to give you a chance. You exchanged a few nervous glances with your fellow substitutes as you prepared to enter the game. Your heart pounded, and your mind was filled with a mix of excitement and apprehension.

As you stood at the sideline, ready to make your entrance, Chloe Kelly, one of the team's stars, approached you with a reassuring smile.

Chloe Kelly: "Y/N, it's your moment now. You've worked hard for this. Go out there and give it your all. You've got this!"

You nodded, feeling a surge of gratitude for Chloe's support. As Chloe walked back towards the bench, she leaned in and whispered, "Good luck, Y/N. Show them what you're made of!"

With those words of encouragement ringing in your ears, you stepped onto the pitch. The roar of the crowd enveloped you, and the electric energy of the World Cup filled the air. You knew that this was your opportunity to prove yourself, to demonstrate your dedication and determination to your teammates and fans alike.

As you sprinted towards the penalty box, the stadium buzzed with anticipation. The commentators, Martin Tyler and John Motson, added to the atmosphere.

Martin Tyler: "And here comes a surprise move! Y/N, the young talent, is making a run for it as she takes the ball from Walsh!"

John Motson chimed in, "That's right, folks! She's showing some incredible speed and determination."

But the defenders were closing in on Y/N faster than expected. Martin Tyler remarked, "Indeed, they are not giving her an inch. She's got to make a decision fast!"

Inside the penalty box, your heart raced. The electric energy of the football match was surging through her like a storm. You knew the game was already well in hand; your teammates had scored five impressive goals. Yet, you had an insatiable desire to make your mark.

In that moment, you felt a mix of emotions. You were a rookie, inexperienced, and you felt out of place among these skilled players. Scoring now would not only be a personal triumph but also secure your legacy as someone who could rise to the occasion when it mattered most.

As you prepared to take the shot, the world seemed to slow down. Two defenders closed in on you. Martin Tyler's voice filled the stadium once again, "Y/N now inside the penalty box, she's going for the shot!"

But just as you were about to unleash the shot that could define your career, the defenders pulled you down. John Motson exclaimed, "Oh, but she's taken down by two defenders! The referee blows the whistle!"

Martin Tyler continued, "That's a clear foul, and Y/N had a golden opportunity there. This could be a game-changing moment!"

On the ground, you felt a rush of disappointment and frustration. Yet, there was also a glimmer of hope. The free-kick in this dangerous position could still be a chance to make your mark.

With determination burning in your eyes, you stepped up to take the free-kick. The crowd held its breath, and your teammates waited with bated anticipation. But in a last-minute decision, you spotted James, unmarked and ready. In that critical moment, you felt a surge of confidence in your abilities but also recognized the opportunity to make a play that would secure the goal.

You didn't take the shot yourself. Instead, you expertly curved the ball towards James, who was positioned perfectly. As James leaped to meet the pass, you could see the realization dawning on the defenders too late. James connected with the ball, sending it crashing into the back of the net with precision.

The stadium erupted in cheers, celebrating the goal. Your heart swelled with happiness at having contributed to the team's success, but a hint of annoyance gnawed at you. You knew you had the skill to take that shot yourself, to potentially score and secure your legacy as a goal-scorer. Yet, in that crucial moment, you had chosen the path of teamwork over individual glory.

As your teammates celebrated around you, you couldn't help but smile, recognizing the power of unity in football. But deep down, the desire to prove yourself in a solo effort still burned brightly. You were determined that your next opportunity would be the one where you could shine individually and claim that goal for yourself.

As you made your way toward the changing room, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins after the thrilling game, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You fished it out to find a call from your boyfriend, Jude. The smile that had been playing on your lips since the goal widened as you answered the call.

"Hey, Jude," you greeted, your voice filled with excitement.

"Y/N, you were brilliant!" Jude's voice came through with unbridled enthusiasm, and you could hear the celebratory cheers of his teammates in the background when he mentioned your name. It warmed your heart.

"You think?" You replied, your own excitement mirrored in your voice.

"I know! That was such a good goal!"

"James did it, I just helped," you modestly downplayed your role

But Jude wasn't having it. "Nope, Mrs. My girl knows how to shoot. She may have done it, but I know you could've too."

You chuckled at Jude's unwavering support. "Thanks, Jude. It means a lot. I can't wait to celebrate with the team."

Jude's voice softened, filled with pride and affection. "I'm so proud of you, Y/N. Enjoy the moment, and I'll be right here cheering you on from home."

You listened intently as Jude continued, his words carrying the weight of his unwavering belief in you.

"Remember, don't be afraid to take those chances yourself. You've worked so hard for this moment, and you have the talent. Even if the whole world were against you because you missed, I'd still be proud of you because I know how hard you've worked."

Your eyes glistened with emotion as you absorbed his words. You knew that having someone who believed in you, who saw your potential even when you doubted yourself, was a precious gift. "I won't forget that, Jude. I promise I'll keep giving it my all, no matter what."

With renewed determination and the loving support of your boyfriend, you headed into the changing room, ready to celebrate the win with your teammates. You knew that your journey in football was filled with ups and downs, but with Jude by your side, you felt unstoppable.

As soon as you made your way to the changing room, the door swung open, and you were greeted with a thunderous round of applause from your teammates. The room was filled with cheers, hugs, and a palpable sense of pride and camaraderie.

Your captain, Leah, stepped forward and wrapped you in a warm embrace. "Y/N, that was incredible! You made a real difference out there!"

One by one, your teammates surrounded you, offering their congratulations and sharing in the joy of the hard-fought victory. The room was filled with laughter and chatter, and you felt an overwhelming sense of belonging and acceptance among this remarkable group of athletes.

Chloe Kelly, the teammate who had encouraged you before you stepped onto the pitch, gave you a high-five and a wide smile. "Told you, Y/N, you're a game-changer!"

The celebrations continued as the team relished the moment together, and you couldn't help but feel the warmth of their support and friendship. It was a scene of pure elation, a reminder of why you loved the game and cherished your place among these incredible women, led by Captain Leah.

Amidst the festivities, the last to come and give you a hug was Lucy Bronze, one of the team's seasoned stars. She embraced you tightly, and in that close moment, she leaned in and whispered in your ear, "You're the Morrison they'll talk about."

Her words sent a shiver of excitement down your spine. Lucy's acknowledgment of your performance, and the reference to Morrison, a legendary figure in the sport, filled you with a sense of honor and responsibility. It was a powerful reminder of the potential and promise you held as a rising talent in the world of football.

With a grateful smile, you nodded at Lucy, silently thanking her for her encouragement and for making you feel like an integral part of the team's success.

lucybronze

liked by lionesses, y/nmorrison, and 56,000 others

lucybronze Now it gets tricky....

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keirawalsh Stage of 16 here we come. 🔥

user561 i'm your biggest fan

keirawalsh is that my coat?

lucybronze @keirawalsh nope 👀

user134 lucy, keira its literally 4am

y/nmorrison @lucybronze & @keriawalsh you two! go to sleep! 😂

[look-at-the-soul]

The Photoshoot - Part 51

Cillian Murphy

Series master list: Part 1 (2014), Part 2 (2015)

Word count: 3,331

Summary: Just a lovely chapter for this couple, they’re both working in the upcoming Peaky Blinders S3, and we get to see a little BTS 😉

Cillian sat quietly in front of the make up mirror quietly, staring at his reflection while Loz worked around him, preparing some of the things she’d use. Like usual, he zoned out lost in his thoughts without realizing it until he heard a familiar voice filling the trailer.

“Hello, hello!” Yael greeted with her usual charming attitude, a wide smile decorating her lips and the inseparable camera hanging from her shoulder.

Kissing Loz on the cheek because she was the closest to the entrance, Yael proceeded to charge into her husband barely giving him time to react. Wrapping his arms around her waist, Cillian got lost in her sent and her warm welcome.

“How about we give you guys a minute?” Loz proposed with a smirk, inviting the wardrobe responsible out of the trailer.

Pulling his wife onto his lap, Cillian sighed quietly. “Why didn’t you tell me what time you’d arrive?”

“I did… sent you a text.” Yael defended with a frown.

“No you didn… did.” He corrected himself after looking at his screen, he didn’t realize of her message.

Yael chuckled. “Anyways, missed you.”

Finding her lips once more, he murmured into her mouth that he had missed her too.

Eventually Cillian adjusted his trousers as he stepped outside his trailer, fully dressed as his character, Tommy Shelby while holding the peak cap in his hands.

“Ready? This way please.” His assistant, Lindsay instructed him.

In silence, he followed her. Everything felt surreal, he was back for another season, the same story just a different chapter in the Shelby’s lives, yet a lot of things felt different.

He was lost in his own thoughts as he walked in front of the impressive Arley Hall, until a familiar figure appeared in his eyesight. His wife was doing the infamous hand-test to catch the best spot for photographs, according to her, she twirled slowly while holding up her hand towards her face, if the inside of her hand caught any shadows, she kept twirling until it was completely illuminated.

This was to ensure there wouldn’t be a single shadow on the object’s face.

“Have you found your spot, darling?” He questioned in the characteristic brummie accent.

Turning around, Yael squealed delighted by his voice. “Over there, Mr. Shelby.”

And she guided him with a smile right before walking back to take her place several steps away. From this angle, she was able to capture most of the front of the house, she then asked Cillian to pose for her, right by the door with his eyes away from the camera. He was a camera’s favorite, all angles worked good on him, all poses. She had missed working with him, just like the first time.

She could see the way his jaw tensed, so Yael decided to end the photos right there but asked the team to move further into the empty land around the property.

“They told me we would have a few horses available for the shooting?” She asked with curious eyes, eager to see Tommy in his element.

“Yes, bringing them now!” Someone informed her.

While they were waiting, Yael started to check out the first photos in her camera when a hand brushed her bum deliberately, gasping in response she turned around only to then breaking into a deep blush and giggles at the sight of her husband.

“You looked so focused I couldn’t resist it.” Cillian whispered.

Placing one of her hands on his chest, Yael pushed him playfully. “Take a look.”

Finding a golf cart no long after, they were taken to the next stop.

As they brought the horse over, Cillian immediately allowed Tommy to step in and the mere glimpse of the interaction was captured by Yael’s lens, she simply walked around, not giving Cillian any instructions she wanted to capture their complicity in the most pure way. Those photos weren’t probably what they were looking for, but they’d go straight to Yael’s favorite album.

“May I have one looking over here, Sir?”

Her choice of words caught Cillian’s attention right away, fixing his eyes on her, Cillian raised an eyebrow and rolled his shoulders to put on a serious face, it was a bit hard to stay in character whilst having his wife biting her lower lip while snapping the shutter.

“Right there, hold it for me… one, two.” Yael fixed her eyes on him, pleased with the results captured in her camera. “I think we’re done. Thank you everybody.”

Cillian shuddered at the memory that just flashed before his eyes, this is exactly how they started, with Yael behind her camera, the unmistakable connection between them, Yael trusting her instincts and experience. And he ended up marrying her.

The best part of working with his wife was that he could trust her blindly, she had that magic touch and her work was always impeccable.

***

“Hello pumpkin.” Bryan greeted his daughter as he opened the door, but he was met with a huge canvas covering her. “Oh, need a hand with that?”

“Hey daddy, please!”

Taking it from her, they both stepped inside Yael’s apartment.

“How was the shooting sweetheart?” Isla asked standing from the couch.

“Incredible, the horses are amazing.” Yael replied, looking around to find the best place to hang the portrait. “Here, take a look.”

Taking off the black fabric covering the canvas, she was pleased to hear her mother’s gasp.

“I thought it was a painting, not a picture.” Bryan studied his son in law’s portrait.

“You can print photographs into canvas now, amazing huh?” Yael explained with excitement. “But I think it needs something else to make it look vintage.”

“I’ve an idea, Bryan love can you bring me the bag that’s in the trunk of the car please?” Isla requested while helping her daughter to brung the portrait down. “You can paint over it.”

“Guess we can try, do you it will work?”

Her mother chuckled. “I saw on the news the other day a guy selling paintings on the street, but someone realized it was just a print and he added touch ups of paint.”

“You had two bags, so I brought you both.” Bryan stated from the door. “Shall I start dinner already?”

“Lee-Anne called to say that Dean was stuck in traffic.” Isla explained.

Yael nodded and decided to text her friend to let her know she was home so she and her sister could arrive anytime they wanted and Dean as he got the chance.

“Alright turn that lamp on for me dear, where are my glasses?” Isla asked herself out loud. Before Yael could point at her head, Isla laughed feeling them. “Here they’re.”

“How much space should we use?” Yael took several steps back to check out the portrait. Her mother joined her a moment later.

Isla walked towards the canvas again and pointing her brush, she proposed a spot. “Here? Like it’s part of the tree.”

Titling her head, Yael smiled. “I’m so glad I listened to your idea, it looks fabulous!”

Isla knew a lot about painting, she took a course as therapy around the time Yael’s accident, back then she needed an outlet and that along with moving into the lake house helped her a lot.

She then explained her daughter, they’d let the paint dry completely and the following day they could add a setting layer.

“That must be Lee-Anne and her sister.” Yael went to open the door.

Welcoming the girls in, they linked their arms around each other. “It’s been so long.”

“We brought these.” Lee-Anne’s sister presented some appetizers and other sides for dinner.

“It’s great you were around, haven’t seen you in ages.” Yael welcomed her as well. She lived in another city and both sisters visited each other, the previous weekend there was a ballet they’d both attend, therefore her sister visiting Lee-Anne.

“Right? I’m a bit nervous about meeting your husband to be honest.”

“I’ve told her Cillian is so down to earth.” Lee-Anne explained moving towards the kitchen to greet her friend’s parents.

Yael nodded, hoping he would arrive soon.

As Bryan placed dinner in the oven, they started to eat some of the appetizers, luckily no long after, Cillian walked into the apartment.

“Look who I found about to ring the bell.” He stepped aside to reveal Dean behind him.

Yael and Lee-Anne’s faces lit up respectively as they saw their men.

“How was the screen test?” Yael asked her husband quietly, she knew he wouldn’t reveal much about the project with people around.

They changed a few things over the Duchess role, like the name and actress so it turned out longer than he expected. But he was cautious to not explain it right there.

“Good.” He smiled sweetly at her and went to shake Bryan’s hand. “Hope it’s not too late.”

“Right on time, we left some appetizers for you.” Isla swooned at him, Cillian had a special place in her heart.

“Thanks I’m starving.” He went to wash his hands and he returned to the living room, he looked from Lee-Anne to her sister. “I didn’t know you had a twin.”

“Oh we’re not.” Lee-Anne explained.

“My God! Cillian! You knew they aren’t twins.” Yael smacked him playfully in the arm.

Lee-Anne’s sister chuckled nervously, startled by Cillian’s sense of humor.

“Woah, this smells incredible.” Dean took a deep breath, the food was mouthwatering.

Cillian felt his phone buzzing in his pocket as he was holding the drinks. “Love, you want to look at this.”

“Ow I miss him.” Yael pouted.

“Isla, look my brother sent me a video of Scout, he’s curled up in Yael’s blanket.”

“Oh my heart, his face.” She gushed over the black lab. He was such a good boy, always looking after Yael.

Going back to the dining room, they brought the things they needed.

“I just want to say I’m so happy to have my little girl back home. And all of you over of course.”

Yael leaned her head on her father’s shoulder, touched by her Dad’s words.

“Luckily we’ll spend some more time around now.” She then realized she should be careful with how much she shared, even with her family and closest friends, so she changed the topic. “I’ve a couple of shootings programmed around the next few months, so we’ll be back and forth.”

“How could I forget?!” Lee-Anne’s sister expressed. “A friend of mine bought an ancient property and it’s turning it into an hotel boutique, it’s in Scotland… would you like to take the photographs?”

Yael looked at her confused, Dean was also a photographer, she didn’t want to get involved in any kind of trouble.

“Oh don’t worry, Dean is into wild animals photography plus he’s got those dates booked.” Lee-Anne explained, reading her friend’s mind.

“It’s late in September.” Her sister clarified. “He said whoever did it would stay for free.”

Patting his wife’s thigh, Cillian caught her attention. “You should do it babe, you said you wanted to go back.”

She stared into Cillian oceans eyes, thinking of the Peaky Blinders schedule. She’d need to organize the best dates.

“Well I guess it’s settled then.” Yael smiled.

“Awesome, I’ll text my friend tomorrow.”

“If you need a hand with the lights let me know.” Lee-Anne joked.

Cillian stood up and went to the kitchen to grab something when the loud laugh from the room filled the space, he had been so engrossed in the script lately that he just realized how much he needed a moment like this; having a good laugh, seeing his wife smiling non-stop, listening to other people’s stories.

He felt extremely grateful to get another chance to do what he loved the most, going back both on set and location to film the next part of his character’s story so people could enjoy it, it meant everything to him.

But this… a moment like this, it was priceless.

“I know that look.” Yael’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

She wrapped her arms around his torso from behind, resting her head between his shoulder blades.

“I’m just enjoying these moments, you know having them over.” Cillian covered her hands with his own, swaying softly.

Bryan’s laugh resonated, followed by Dean’s.

“Remind me to thank your parents for filling the fridge before they go.”

“Will do, now come with me… I want to show you something.”

Intertwining their hands, Yael lead her husband to her studio.

“I still need to add the frame tho, but… I really really liked how it’s turning out.”

Cillian held his breath at the sight of the huge portrait before his eyes… there he was, well more like Thomas Shelby, holding his horse’s reins.

His inmutable expression showed power, he was giving arrogant vibes, he exuded this insufferable stare, showing off his wealth with an I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude.

He was blown away by Yael’s ability to capture Tommy’s essence, it was all there right in the surface. It was a strange feeling to see himself staring back at him.

“You changed it somehow right? This is not the version I saw on your camera.” Cillian stated finally a couple of minutes later.

Yael squealed silently, excited that her husband noticed.

“I used some filters to alter the saturation and light… and then Mum helped me paint some trees over the edge. It’s a masterpiece if you ask me.”

Cillian couldn’t help the wide smile that appeared in his lips. “It is, Tommy Shelby would be so proud.”

“I got a few samples for the frame, but this one…” she moved around to grab a piece “really makes it stand out.”

It was flashy, but deep down he knew Yael’s pick would make Tommy nod in agreement, the bigger, the better.

“If you want my opinion…. I’d choose the same.”

“Do you think Steven will like it?” Yael could help but bit her lower lip.

But Cillian’s soft chuckle and sudden hand rubbing her back was all the approval she needed. “He’ll go nuts about it.”

Satisfied with her work, Yael then pulled him by the hand.

“Alright Mister, let’s go back there before they come looking for us, I don’t think you want them gushing about a big-arse painting about you.”

Cillian raised an eyebrow playfully. “Watcha talking about?” He asked in a mastered Brummie accent. “‘Course I do, this will be hanging as a trophy.”

“Well… let’s bring Lee-Anne first, she’ll tease you endlessly.”

He shook his head profusely. “I was thinking of your Mum.”

Yael laughed by his words, he knew Isla was his biggest fan.

“…the thing about goods like that, the price gets controlled by big companies.” They heard Bryan explain as they approached the table again.

“Even if it has the potential to turn things around?” Dean asked with interest.

“Specially for that reason.” Yael heard her father explain and she was transported back in time to the days when Bryan would help her with her homework, he wouldn’t give her the answers, he’d go above and beyond to explain her absolutely everything until she could reach the point of reasoning the meaning behind it. “Just look at the health system… it doesn’t work!”

“You took the wrong career Dad.” Yael pouted.

Lee-Anne came around the table to help her clean it. “I’d vote for you Bryan in a heartbeat.”

“Ah stop, although my love here,” he caught Isla’s hand as she was walking past him, “would be happy to get rid of me for a little while.”

“You’re too good for that job darling, corruption would frustrate you.” She rubbed his shoulder lovingly.

“There’s always an exception tho.” Cillian interjected casually, he was thinking of himself, somehow he had managed to stay away from Hollywood’s spot light.

“Baby, would you take my portrait? For my campaign?” Bryan joked winking at Yael.

“Of course!”

“And Cillian can show me how to deal with the reporters.” He continued while Cillian nodded profusely.

“Just answer the first thing that comes to your mind, they don’t know the truth.” He cackled.

“Sometimes they ask the weirdest things.” Yael made a funny face. “When was the last time you used the tube? Do you still have vynils?”

“Do you?” Lee-Anne asked Cillian in a serious tone that made everyone laugh.

Cillian was still laughing as they waved their guest goodbye, he had to admit they made him have a great time and recharge his batteries for the upcoming season.

“Tomorrow it’s going to be crazy.” Yael groaned softly, pulling her hair up in a messy bun, making a mental note of the photos she’d take of Annabelle Wallis and the child that would play Charlie, Tommy’s son, they were still trying to decide between two boys, so she’d take both portraits to print it into a canvas as well. Then they’d fly back home.

Cillian rubbed his eyes tiredly, flicking the lights off.

Climbing in bed, Yael brought her laptop immediately editing some of the photos she took, messing around the images, she started adding different escenarios in the background, Tommy and Grace’s were already in b&w… now if only she could find the perfect place.

“Coliseum, Eiffel Tower or Statue of Liberty?” She asked as her husband emerged from the en-suite.

Cillian froze and gave his wife a confused look.

“I’m going to print a photo for Tommy’s office, so pick a place.” She explained showing him the screen.

Leaning on the bed, Cillian patted her thigh to sit next to her, then he brought a hand to his mouth and stared at the images Yael had been working on.

“Tommy wouldn’t go back to France, although it looks nice.” Rubbing his chin he looked from one image to the other. “Grace went to New York the first time, so I guess they’d go there… this is brilliant.”

It’s the small things after all, but he genuinely thought adding a photograph as part of the props of the show was a fabulous idea. Turning his head, he searched for his wife’s lips.

“Speaking of which… I’ve something for you.” Walking towards his bag, he looked inside for a box. “Thought this is a nice way to show you some love for all your support over the show.”

Coming back into bed, he ran his fingers over the edge.

“It’s a little something… but I want you to know your encouragement, support and effort means everything to me. I couldn’t do this without you, you know that right?”

The gesture caught Yael by surprise, she was still processing his words.

“Some time ago I gave you the caravan necklace.” Opening the box, he turned it around so she still couldn’t see what was inside. “Now, each season I’m going to add a little charm related to the show.”

Cillian finally let the bracelet hang from his fingers, separating the charms.

“I added a camera, because well… that’s how we met.” He smiled adoringly.

Yael stared at him with tears threatening to come down her cheeks. Her eyes fixed on the charms hanging from the bracelet now around her wrist; there was a razor blade, a horseshoe, the camera he mentioned and a small clock.

“Cill this is… I don’t even know what to say, I love it! I love you!” She managed to whisper right before throwing herself into his loving arms.

It was safe to say that his wife liked the present. He thought it was cheesy, but deep down if it wasn’t for Yael’s support he wouldn’t be make it by himself, and he didn’t mean it because she helped him act, no but because she was there for him in so many ways.

“Well I didn’t buy you anything, but just let me show you how grateful I am too for everything you do.” She confessed before pulling his body to cover hers.

Thank you so much for following up this story! I hope you enjoyed this chapter (it was a joy for me to write! ) 🥰✨💕

Photo painting credits: Chris Saunders

Photo bracelet inspiration:

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[theoffice-imagines]

Dwight’s prank

Pairing: David Wallace x reader

Warnings: None

Requested: @ricflairdrip20

Request: prompt # 23 & #29

***

For as long as you can remember, you’ve always been the one who had been the most hurt by those who thought you could call your “friends.”

One of the things that has attracted you to David Wallace is the fact that he was a good listener to anyone who needed an ear to trust. Though he hasn’t listen to you yet, he was more than willing to. Seemingly more than willing to do it and when he took notice in how you seem down one day, that was when he decided he was going to walk up and talk to you.

David stopped halfway, his tongue had gone dry as he couldn’t form the words he wanted to say to you. He always chooses his words wisely when it comes to talking to someone, but now he realizes it’s when he’s about to walk up and talk to you. Finally, something in mind had come up and he started to speak, but he spoke in a soft voice that you almost missed it. It was surprising to say the least, it spooked you as were deep in thought and you never get spooked, that wasn’t like you at all.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks softly, causing you to jump.

You deny the fact there was anything wrong at all.. well, at first.

As eerie as this may sound, David Wallace had been noticing you better than noticing anyone else in the office. David didn’t mean to do it, he was just so taken by your beauty that he couldn’t help but to keep an eye on you. Before you could speak to even try to deny things, David noticed as he looked closer that you seemed to be short of breath and and sweating as if you had just come back from running a marathon. Seeing you in this condition is where his concern for you grew even more than it already had. You said nothing as David takes the empty spot next to you as he asked you again, a bit differently this time.

“What’s happened? Did something happen?”

You don’t respond at first, but than decide it was best to be honest with him and so you told David why you were looking so upset and how your day had been going so far. You didn’t want to get anyone in trouble, but you felt you had no choice this time and called that person out to David as you begin explaining.

David wasn’t too pleased to say the least after hearing your story and he wanted to get to the bottom of it.

“You know that weight loss competition we’re doing?”

David nods as you continue.

“Well, Dwight thought it would be funny to trick me into thinking I’m helping him out with a new client and what does he do? Well he drops me off at an abandoned warehouse in a bad part of town and left with my purse as well as my phone.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes.. but don’t worry! I’m okay, I wasn’t before but now I am.”

David sighed.

“Stop pretending you’re okay, because I know you’re not.”

“I’m not pretending-“

“Yes you are!”

Before you could say another word, David storms away and you know exactly where he’s headed.

So you follow him.

Once you got to the office, David walks up to Dwight and interrupts his phone call. Dwight immediately gets defensive and even more so when David confronts him of what he did to you.

“Let’s make this the last time I hear of this!”

“Oh come on..”

“You left her in a bad part of town, Dwight!”

“So? I took her purse what’s the big deal?”

“It is a big deal, Dwight!”

“She burned calories walking back here-“

“That’s not how healthy weight loss workout!”

David had to pull himself out of there as he was close to losing it, you followed. Once he had calmed down enough after the events of defend/protecting you, he turns towards you and says only one thing.

“You don’t deserve to be treated that way. You deserve so much better, (Y/n).”

***

@theoffice-imagines

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

Confessions

Poe Dameron x gn!reader

A/N: I'm not dead y'all, I was just inactive on tumblr. :)

Summary: At a party in the Resistance base, Poe had more drinks than planned and soon, in his drunk state, confessed his feelings towards you.

Warnings: None.

The recent victory over the First Order was the reason for the Resistance to throw a party at a remote planet.

You just stepped out of the Corvette, already hearing the loud music in the distance, so you made your way to it.

On your way you walked past some already passed out or nearly passed out Resistance members who were seemingly enjoying themselfes a bit too much.

Upon entering the big cantina, the place was filled with people, some playing dejarik, some passed out on tables or simply enjoying their drinks without paying attention to their surroundings. You spotted Finn with C-3PO sitting at a table in a rather quiet corner and made your way towards them, since you had no plan what else you can do other than drink your brains out.

"Hey guys, enjoying the party?" You greeted the two with a warm smile. Finn and 3PO looked at you, Finn giving you a smile in return, "Yeah, well, the drinks are good, can't complain." he shrugged.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" C-3PO chimed in as you sat down infront of the two.

"Gotta say I was expecting everyone here but not you, 3PO." You chuckled.

"3PO was lonely, so I decided to bring him with me." Finn nudged the Golden Droid's shoulder.

"I was not lonely, I was waiting for R2." 3PO defended himself, almost acting offended, making you suppress the smile threatening to form on your lips.

"He's lying." Finn grinned.

"Alright guys, before things get steamy, I'll get myself a drink." You got up and made your way to the bartender, ordering yourself a drink.

Minutes later you were back at Finn and C-3PO, "Damn, took you long enough for one drink." Finn chuckled, sipping on his drink.

"Pff, make your way through all those people and then we can talk." you sat down and took a sip from the drink. "So, where is the rest of the team?" You asked curiously.

"R2 is...somewhere...Poe must be enjoying his, uh, time and BB-8 is most probably near him, Chewie is most likely inside the Falcon and playing dejarik with others." Finn shrugged, making you laugh, "Wow, that's nice to hear."

After minutes of enjoying your drinks, Finn cleared his throat, "Hey wanna go see Chewie and maybe play some with him?" he suggested.

"Sure, let's go." you nodded and following Finn out of the cantina, heading towards Chewbacca in the Millenium Falcon. But halfway in, you heard a beeping and something nudged Finn's leg, making you both look down to see BB-8 there

"Hey bud, what's up everything alright?" Finn knelt down and patting the droid's head. BB-8 beeped, you couldn't understand him, so you asked Finn what he said, "What did he say?"

"Well, our flyboy Poe needs a place to sleep, oh and I have to come get him. Wanna help me carry him?" He chuckled.

BB-8 started leading the way to where Poe is, the droid lead you through a setlement more away from the actual party, more deeper into the planet's forest area.

"Damn, judging how far away we are from the party...this looks like exactly the place you'd expect a Poe Dameron to be...whatever he was doing here." you mumbled while Finn laughed, "That's our Poe."

The sticks and leafs crunched with every step you took, but eventually you came across a table with some chairs around, and Poe sitting on one of them, with his arms and face on the flat surface beside the numerous empty glasses.

"There he is, you had a pretty wild time, yeah?" Finn went beside Poe, while he looked up and to Finn, "Yeah, had some company."

Finn's hands went under Poe's arms, helping him stand up.

"Pretty wild company if you ask me." You remarked. Poe looked at you as he wrapped his arm around Finn's shoulders for balance

"Oh hi there. Are you enjoying yourself?" Poe grinned.

"Yup. And you too right?" You decided to help Finn and went to the other side of Poe, he instantly wrapped his other arm around your shoulders aswell, "Mh-mm. But now with you two it got even better." Poe chuckled, squeezing Finn and you, making you stumble into him while walking, "Don't trip, we don't want your pretty face getting all dirty."

Finn laughed, "He's done, let's get him into the Falcon where he can sleep."

While Finn and you walked Poe towards the Falcon, BB-8 zipped past you, rolling up the ramp leading into it. "Oh no, don't tell me you want to fly." Poe slured.

"No buddy, we want you to rest." Finn chuckled as the three of you went inside the Falcon. Inside the Falcon, you saw Chewie playing dejarik with some Resistance members, not minding the drunk Poe.

Finn lead you to a small spare room with a bed and set Poe down, laying him to the side and placing his head on the pillow. "Alright, we better let him sleep now, his head might hurt like he wrestled with a Rancor tomorrow but atleast he's safe." Finn turned and was about to leave when he decided to stop and turn back to you, "Thanks for helping me with him, he is heavier than he looks." Finn teased, making Poe open his eyes and point a finger at him, "Hey, it's all muscles, don't forget that, Finn."

Finn laughed, "But try not to make a mess or Chewie will get angry. The last thing you want is a Wookie being angry at you." Finn nodded at you and then made his way out of the Falcon. You were about too but just as you stepped out, Poe spoke up "Hey, hey, please stay with me. Please." You turned around, seeing Poe looking at you with a pouty face. You couldn't say no to his brown puppy eyes and the almost comically pout on his face, so you walked over to him, stopping infront of the bed, "Need something?" you asked.

"C'mere." Poe murmured, reaching out grabbing your wrist gently and pulling you towards him. You were surprised that given his drunk state he was somewhat still good in control of his actions. Poe sat up and made you sit in his lap, "I like you, you know that right?"

"You like me?" Your body suddenly began to heat up, you knew Poe can be bold if he wanted to, but now that he's drunk he's kinda even more bold than he already is.

"Yeah I like you. Remember when you fixed my arm when we were on that one Mission on Tatooine? The medic back at the base said if you didn't fixed my arm up it ended up even worse." Poe chuckled and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close and leaning his chin on your shoulder.

You remembered the mission, it was a small recon mission on Tatooine. You, Poe and two others had to make out the layout of a local First Order base, but while at it, some pirates attacked your group and Poe got stabbed in his arm. You cleaned and wrapped a bandage around the wound until Poe visited the medic.

"Poe you're drunk." You joked.

"Yeah, and you know drunk people always tell the truth, and it is the truth, honey." Poe gave you a peck on your cheek, surprising you.

"Listen, I don't wanna be alone in here, in this cold, lonely room. Wanna stay and keep me company? I promise I'll be good." He nuzzled your neck.

"You sure you want me to stay?" you asked, feeling him grin against your skin, "Yup, I want you to stay. Let's get sober together and once we feel better we can talk about what happened, sound good?"

"Alright, you won. I'll stay with you." You chuckled.

Poe then laid down, pulling you with him, spooning you from behind, making sure you stay warm.

"Poe, you're like a big baby when you're drunk." you nudged him, making him smile.

"I'll show you 'big baby' when we get sober again." Poe gently bit your shoulder then buried his face into your neck, almost falling asleep instantly.

You follwed him, closing your eyes and slowly falling asleep to the soft snores of a drunk Poe Dameron.

[kayakoto-enterprises]

She Loves You (2/2)

Cathedrals are everywhere for the eyes to see.

Thank you all for being patient with how long this took! Happy 2nd month, House Guest! This crazy hyperfixation has me holding on and recovering from everything.

Read the 1st part and the Midfic to fully understand everything going on here.

In which our beloved couple present themselves happily long before they need to defend their existence to their imagined public.

December 12, 1987

.

.

.

You want to look up and pretend it isn't snowing. you want to see the autumn sky again but no. It's flat. It's a pastel lavender. And the weather freezes everyone's paws as they read the morning paper. You're unwrapping this notebook that's been sitting snuggly in the wrapper for the new season. and as you transfer important notes and numbers from the old book, a pink sticky note has her name and telephone number on it. It was only yesterday when you first called but the numbers are already burnt into your mind. Then your eyes look at the clock, monitoring the hours, scratching in impatience, anticipating…

Then you realise what’s happening. You thought that you had kept her at arms-length, close enough but not comfortable. You kept most people at a distance but not her. She begins to tap dangerously close into your mind and you can only shut down to prevent any more ideas from flowing. But she’s multiplying, burrowing everywhere you can hide. How annoying.

Then you may stop to think to yourself: “Is it likely that I’m falling in love again?” Again? Since when have I loved someone? Like Lola? I’m not too sure if there’s a calibre we can weigh the intensity on. Maybe a heart attack, but I never had any of those either. In any case though, I don’t believe I do that sort of thing. The feeling is far distant from it. I could say that I love different things- like the autumn breeze, black coffee with hazelnuts, or the feeling of control. Those are just extreme expressions we throw around. Nothing else special. 

I walked out of the shop expecting a yellow sky but it was still covered in lavender. The feeling was beginning to make me go mad. Dressing up in new garb, looking directly at myself in confused rage. I’ve had this conversation before. I like women. I prefer women. I am not above killing them though. But love knows its ways around me. I’m blushing. I’m fixating on every clumsy sign of affection she shows me. Her kind gestures. Her smile. The way she scrunches her face when her glasses begin to slip. Her unusual voice. I’m beginning to feel it again. A quickened heartbeat. The blurry vision. Sweaty palms. Slurred thoughts.

Maybe I do.

Then she shakes my shoulder when she finds me sitting near the ticket booth with my arms crossed. I sit up properly taking a good look at her. Julianne finally wore her glasses outside, the red frames matching a ribboned top. It was something a little nicer than any of her usual outfits. I curiously wondered though who was inside the silver locket she was wearing.

“Hi, I’m sorry if I kept you waiting.”

“No, you aren’t late at all.” I replied “It’s not even 4 yet but let’s hurry. I have a secret to show you in here.”

Her ears popped up hearing the invitation. She nodded and followed behind me when I bought our tickets and made our way into the cinema. The theatre lights were still on, but as to be expected, there were handfuls of families crowding the theatre this Saturday. Thankfully seats 6 and 7 on Row L were empty and everyone else was courteous enough to not surround our bubble as badly as they could have. 

“Don’t tell anyone about this spot.” I whispered “This has the best view in the cinema even on a packed night.”

Her eyes instead focus on the architectural quirks and details swirling around the space, drawn immediately to the gold cat centrepiece hanging above the screen. She looks back at me and nods.

 “It is…seems just right in the middle..” Her voice tones down to a shy whisper. She rubs her hand on the plush of the velvet seat. The lights dim and the projection begins. The doors are closed for the next hour. Time was moving slower in that red box. I could barely focus on the movie. I know I’ve seen it before somewhere. Julianne on the other hand had her eyes focused on every minute and every detail. She was holding back her excitement to not be so rude. The entire time I was squinting, making out her face in the dark and she only caught me staring once just to tell me her favourite scene was coming up. I forced myself to look at the screen, avoiding suspicion but my hands wandered, landing on top of hers, comfortably sliding my fingers between the gaps, neither of us aware what we were doing to one another.

I could not resist it. My signals were jammed, and they were all directing me to hold her hand or her arms the entire time. I regained autonomy when I asked myself if I could take it a step further. Then the excitement of momentum drowned. 

Julianne continued to hold my hand though even outside the theatre an hour later, humming the songs happily and swaying her arms.

“Hey Julianne, your glasses are fogged.”

“Aw, are they? Thanks.” She let go and grabbed a napkin to clean them up.

She leaned her head on my arm, purring as we continued walking downtown to her apartment. Lively Saturday nights have returned slowly but surely. Christmas lights and displays illuminated the stores around each corner, decorated with trinkets or dioramas of religious imagery. Julianne would stop every now and then to admire a few of them. 

“Thanks for taking me to see Annie tonight. You really didn’t have to.” 

“It’s my pleasure. I don’t know what to do with myself on December nights. Everyone is either out of town or closed early.”

“Everyone is home in December where I’m from. Woodbrook would be twice as busy. Everything would be open til 11!”

I gently smile.

“Oh, I should make it up to you..uhm..do you like magic shows? Not the birthday party sort of ones, the ones that are a lil more mature.” Julianne asks almost excitedly “It’s more of a comedy thing than it is kiddie entertainment. I could take you with me..”

“I’m sorry, I don’t. It’s not my cup of tea.” I said between half-gritted teeth, feeling awful for rejecting the offer. 

“Well, is there any hobby you have that we can do together? Something we can do over the weekend?” Julianne begins insisting. 

“I don’t really have a lot. I’m getting old, so maybe woodwork but most of my hobbies are solitary”

“We can always meet at the library then. I don’t mind. Also, have you eaten dinner? Do you want to go out? I’ll pay tonight since you paid for the tickets.”

I struggled to reply to that. I really had no appetite today. Maybe a few pieces of bread would do today but the thought of the movie meet up tonight weighed upon my head even after the fact, I had lost the will to. I shook my head. 

I’ve been down this road before.

Except she was a lot more merciful in her methods. She left disappointed but she at least understood when to stop pushing my buttons.

“I’m being so pushy, am I? I don’t want to force you to do anything. You’re just so nice to me. I also wanna be nice to you.” She frowns, wrapping her tail around her waist for her to fidget with. We stop at the entrance of the red building. She looks back at me and slowly blinks.

“I’ll leave it at that for now. You really should eat dinner though. Thank you!”

I stood at the doorway for longer than I would have liked to admit.

.

.

.

.

December 15, 1987

Last night, Woodbrook experienced its first gleanings of winter. This morning, my driveway was covered in snow. I figured that I should get the front of the house and shop cleared up as early as now to avoid delaying opening. And so I was up since 5, shovelling through snow and greeting school children before it was time I drove to town to do more of the same. 

Coming into the town proper, an alarm bell began ringing in my mind- it was calling for me to look around. I did not understand what I was watching for suddenly. There were no signals in the snow this morning. From the reflection on the glass though was a bright rose parka that my eyes followed into the corner to the church. Nobody else wears that bright of a color here.

Following the butterfly into the pews, I hung my head low and pretended to have a reason to be there. She was seated rows away from me, spending 20 more minutes praying the rosary. She broke out of that solemness and looked around her, turning her back and finally acknowledging my presence. Her cheeks warmed up as she smiled then hid her blushing as she quickly got up and signalled I should follow her. 

“Did..did anyone see that?”

“See what?”

“See me…”

I playfully wrapped my arm around her shoulder. Her cheek got redder, cautiously looking around the street for any onlookers. 

“Most people can’t put up a fight about it. Cut it out.” I reassured her “Wanna get a chocolate at Betsy’s?”

“I’m fine, I’ll be making pancakes at home. Do you want to come with me?”

We looked at a clock inside the still closed stationery store. It was 7 in the morning. The storefront was already clean anyway. 

“I’ll help cook them with you. I’m glad you asked, ‘cause I haven’t eaten anything since 5.”

“Five? I’ve been in church since five. It’s the first snow too.” She was holding out her tongue to taste the snow. 

“Yeah, just clearing out my road, and you don’t have work today?”

“Woodbrook Elementary suspended classes today due to how intense the snow was last night. I also thought that, yknow, 10 days til Christmas. Isn’t there a vigil mass leading up to Christmas at the start of the day? Guess not.” She was talking her head off, eyes still looking behind us. The church had long disappeared into the horizon and she was still distracting me from actually asking what I had come there for.

“No, they don���t. But there is a mass during Christmas Eve. Do you want us to go together?”

“No, no, no, no, I don’t..want to..go to Mass..going with..I’m just saying God would know I’m coming there with impure intentions or what have you.”

Her eyes avert away from where we’re walking and she tries to let go of the grip I have on her. I just continue to hold her closer. The heat in between us was already far too comfortable to let go of. She tried again and my hand just lowered itself to where it was holding her hip.

“No, I’m not letting you go, we still have a block away to walk. Nobody is out here anyway.”

It was an unusually empty Tuesday morning. Half the stores on this avenue were shut down and the foggy air obscured whatever might just be waking up right now. Everything was washed in cream and blues that Christmas ornaments and lights would cut through later in the day. But it was 7 in the morning. To the two of us, this could have been a 3 pm on any other season. 

“It’s safe for two girls or guys to hold hands at least here. Anything other than that is a gamble. I don’t think anyone has any balls in them to punch anyone over what we’re doing right now.”

“I mean..we’re just friends though, right?” Julianne quickly corrected me.

“Of course, of course. That’s why I was thinking if we could attend mass together then we’ll have Christmas dinner. How does that sound?”

“You’re Catholic too?”

I could feel myself trying to not burst into laughter at her silly question. That’s the worst you could assume of me. 

“Sorta” I lied.

“Then we can, as..you know..friends..and you just don’t have to look at me during Mass but..”

“Julianne, don’t think about the Mass part, think of what we’ll do when we get back to my house–” I held my breath and thoughtfully constructed what I would say next “-- What food we’re gonna be eating or what drinks I should prepare..do you drink alcohol? No, bad question, do you have an allergy somewhere? Are you okay with salmon steak for us both..?”

Julianne pulled out her keys when we got to the lobby of the apartment building, eyes following us to the room at the top of the complex.

“I do love salmon, what if we bake it though with buttered vegetables and cheese?”

Her face was red and warm, a hand similarly holding on to the small of my back in front of more people than she worried about. She excitedly talked about what she could cook for the night or what we’d be doing after.

The rosary on her neck heard every intention and desire regardless.

They know. And they’re rewarding her for it.

.

.

.

.

December 25, 1987

“I told you” She whispered “Don’t look at me during the Mass.”

“Where else was I supposed to look?”

“I don’t know…the altar?” Julianne pouted again. She toyed with the silver heart on her chest since we got inside the truck. 

We were stuck in the traffic between the busiest roads in town. New cars were flowing in and out of town for vacation while most were rushing home for dinner or their reservations. Last year I spent the day in bed, watching movies alone, and hiding from the world. I was still well fed by at least three families sending me everything I wanted. I was eating a casserole and cookies under my table waiting for Spring. I did miss the formality of the night though. I used to spend it with the Albrights for over two decades. Now with them away, I was getting calls from all around town to stay over. But the message was clear this year. Julianne placed her hands back on the handles of her tupperware when the light turned green.

“It’s so nice that you made that baked salmon too. You didn’t need to.”

“You just wouldn’t tell me what else I could do for you after Annie. It’s all I can do.”

Regardless, I was fine with returning routine back into my holiday schedule. I was wandering in the dark again earlier this year, trailing off of last year’s habits. I remember I still absentmindedly bought a certain somebody’s favorite cakes on a Monday afternoon for what was our afternoon tea time. Luckily, I now had someone at awe of such simple treats like raspberry tarts. Her tail was happily straightened up admiring the gussied-up kitchen. A table for two, sharing two big casseroles of food, strawberry shortcake, raspberry tarts, and a whole bottle of wine. She straightened her white dress, looking back to me to politely gesture we take a seat.

“As friends, right?”

“To my dearest friend, Julianne.”

I know she doesn’t only think of me as her friend.

I’m a special case. An eyecatcher. And then a crush. Then a friend. Now her first suitor. 

She’s crawling inside and finding her space.

Her hand rests on top of mine as we eat.

Many, many more wordless gestures.

The lamb rests inside comfortably.

I could lock it inside now.

But when her eyes curiously glance over to mine, the pressure drops and I feel similarly airy. A fever rushes back to me. The feelings become reciprocal for a glean of a second.

It’s poisoning us both.

This Christmas I watched a girl put a whole strawberry in her mouth. Then she helped me wash the dishes and pack away the Christmas garb on my dining table. For one night I was not angry. I felt fine. I felt fuzzy around her.

She gave me a few new shirts and hid stickers at the bottom of the box because she noticed I had this notebook with me all the time.

I hid one of my old sweaters in between the folds of the dress I bought for her.

In the safety of my house, just before she left, I asked her to come closer when I began thanking her for coming over. I lost focus of what I was intending on doing then leaned over and kissed her forehead before telling her to run along now. It looked like she wanted to reciprocate back but she walked away from my porch with her hand on her head. 

If I was thinking clearly, I may have asked her to be mine instead.

But some things take time, right?

.

.

.

.

January 1st, 1988

I wondered where she was last night. I called her up in the morning of the eve, then the afternoon, and later left a message on her machine instead the minute a new year passed. My eyes were always looking for her. She had to be wearing any sort of shade of pink or red. Rose was absent from the crowd of onlookers tonight. Last night I only looked at the display with a solemn emptiness. I figured that maybe Julianne would have preferred a plain sky. When the smoke cleared, I looked up to see her windows shut. Her lights were still on but not even a hint like the sound of my keys prompted her to open them.

But I could feel myself develop a dependence on her presence in an environment ever since. I see flowers spelling her initials or colors I’ve sworn looked out of place in a town dull without eccentricity. And even before anything was finalized, I was asked- “where’s Julianne?” by at least 3 people.

I guess we go in pairs now.

I couldn’t be embarrassed about it anymore. It was my lifestyle now, knocking on their door to come inside the red bricked apartment. It’s like they were almost expecting me, telling me she’s been in her apartment since December 30th. I’ll admit, I began to worry when I got to her front door. I was imagining the poor girl depressed on the floor. But when she opened the door, she just sighed in relief and told me to get inside as soon as possible. She was feeling a bit jumpy, she described staying far, far away from the windows as possible. The sound of firecrackers and fireworks startled the poor kitten. It was not isolation but caution.

Fireworks displays were anxiety inducing to her. She voluntarily hid away from the parade to keep her peace of mind.

“And yet…” Julianne whispered to herself “...people were still looking for me.”

“You’re already such an integral part of the town. People are going to go look for you.” 

“Days ago, I was approached by Guy near his store, and he confidently called me ‘Amy’.”

“But have you heard what they’re calling you, though? Like Pinky. Pinky is a popular nickname now.” I chuckled.

“Pinky…”

“I’m sure they all understand.”

“But were you disappointed I wasn’t there?”

“I guess I was. But you should just tell me fireworks freak you out sometimes..”

She wrapped her arms around me in loving suggestion, almost immediately retracting before resting on my chest fully.

“I heard there’ll be another fireworks show over at the edge of Centerville though… if you want to watch something with me tonight..”

“I’m fine..let’s just stay where we are.”

“Stay…” She echoed back to me, crawling closer and closer.

“You’re so close now, woah, what’s going on?”

“I’m not sure either. Do you?”

She sits herself on my thigh, arms wrapped around my shoulders as she lightly imitates initiation. She couldn’t keep a straight face though.

“Stay and watch the stars with me later.”

I tilted my head in flustered confusion. Sure I will. At least by now the smoke has settled. She slips her glasses off and leans into me, taking the initiation to kiss me first. 

The jumpiness transfers, shaking from her hand to mine to everybody. The burning and the electricity. How shocking. 

She loves me.

[soulreapin]

fair warning, this gets kinda heavy.

tldr: keith bends and bends underneath the weight of everything, and finally, he cracks.

this was really cathartic for me to write, so even if you read it here give it a kudos on ao3 just for me.

—

Keith’s mouth tastes like rubbed-away Carmex and ash.

He’s doing okay for himself, on the castle of lions, he goes and he dons his suit and he does his job and he fights with Lance and then he comes “home” and peels his suit off piece by piece and stands underneath the shower with bad water pressure until his skin turns pink and his joints stop clicking together as he walks and then he goes to bed, just to do it all again. Keith says he is doing okay for himself to the people he saves every single day, to the people he lives with every single day, but he doesn’t say it to himself.

To himself, he’s drowning. The words to what he’s feeling warp in his throat and feel caught in a web, choking him out until he can’t breathe. He is floating on the surface of something horrid, and his palm slaps on the surface of the water but there’s nothing for his desperate fingers to cling on to, so Keith slips.

With every day he slips, back and back and back until the stitches holding him together strained against the weight. Then Keith hauls himself forwards, and forwards a little more until there is just enough lessened on the stitches for him to keep going, just a little longer.

It doesn’t feel like anything anymore. The butt of a blaster slammed into his chin three days ago, and his jaw popped out of its place for just a moment on his left side and sometimes he can’t touch those back teeth together, but that doesn’t feel like anything. He took nine space tylenol and called it a day.

Most nights after he gets three horrible hours of sleep, Keith sits on the bow of the ship. He doesn’t know why the bow is so comfortable, but he did know that if he closed his eyes and drifted out far enough, sometimes the rock of the ship felt like the simulator deck at the Galaxy Garrison. He spent hours out there, even when classes had ended. Shiro slipped him into the sim and made him promise not to cause too many problems.

He’s there right now, staring at the empty, pin-pricked abyss that the castle lingered in. The galaxy they’re floating through is close to Olkari, but not close enough to patch through a call.

Keith, at four in the morning, is completely alone out here. No one on his team likes him, his lion is working against him, his bayard wouldn’t get fucking going this morning and cost them precious seconds that could’ve been used to save lives, and his belt loop got stuck on the door.

Nothing else bothered him, he shook off the dislike and let his lion roll of his back like water, Keith made up for his bayard by racing the clock and getting a group of younglings out of a tight spot, but his belt loop yanking on the door handle and keeping him trapped in the doorway of his room was the final straw. He took dinner in his room, because if Lance even looked at him with his stupidly cute face and surprisingly thoughtful words, Keith would start to sob like a child and he cannot have that.

So he sits on the bow.

The bow is quiet, there’s nothing on the bow but him and the built in chairs and the endless, expansive stars.

Keith sighs, a whistle through his throat, and starts to absentmindedly comb his tired fingers through his hair. It sat in a ponytail lately, so he could better wedge his helmet over it, and there was a noticeable dent in his hair from how little time he had to wash it and how often he wore it like that.

Silence envelops him for just a few more minutes before he hears the soft woosh of the automated door open and close. Almost immediately, fight or flight gripping him tight and refusing to let go of him. Keith turns his head and grips his knife, the flat of the blade pressed to his forearm, and watches as Lance edges into the bridge, holding onto a pillow.

Oh.

Fight puts its knife down and flight folds in its wings. Keith lowers his blade and lets it clatter loudly onto the floor, lest Lance assume he’s alone on the bow. Lance looks around wildly for just a second until he sees Keith sitting in front of Red’s chair and relaxes, nodding almost to himself and trudging to the very front of the bow, right in front of the glass.

He watches Lance as he drops his pillow on the floor and tucks his forearms beneath it, turning his chin towards the stars and saying nothing.

But Keith can’t sit in silence like this. He feels like he’s been ripped into a storm and thrown around and around until his head is barely hanging on, so Keith delicately clears his throat and says, “You’re up late.”

“Et tu, Brute?” Lance responds groggily,

Keith laughs slightly, a short bark that comes out a little drier than he intended. “Couldn’t….couldn’t sleep.”

Lance shifts a little so his head is turned to Keith instead of the stars. “Yeah, me too. I didn’t think you came out here. Training deck finally handed you an eviction notice?”

“I like it here.” Keith says defensively; what could he possibly be defending?

“Relax, Red, not here to give you the third degree.” Lance’s eyes slide from open to closed a few times, like he’s fighting sleep.

He doesn’t respond to that, but pulls his knees into his chest and loosely wraps his arms around them, bony kneecaps digging into his collarbone. Keith watches Lance acutely like a predator as this boy, this friend who he flew alongside every day and ate next to and slept in the same hallway as buried his face into the pillow he’d brought with him and his breathing starts to even out.

It comes on like a cold.

Keith sniffs once and coughs and just like that, warm tears bead up in his lower lashline and trickle down his face, bouncing from small freckle to smaller scar and then dripping onto his hand. Slowly, Lance’s head inches upwards, peering at Keith in the low, blue light. His words rattle out of him, “Do you want to talk about it?”

No. Yes. He’d rather kill himself. He’s going to kill himself if he doesn’t. Keith forces all of this down and clears his throat, wiping the tears away from his eyes and coughs again, “I think so. I shouldn’t.”

��You can. If you want. I’ll listen, Keith.” Lance’s voice is low and careful, treating Keith like a scared lioness kept in captivity, and he didn’t mind it.

Keith. It’s always Red, or Mullet, or Rascal Flatts. Never Keith.

He swallows, and trudging every goddamn step of the godforsaken way, Keith tries to articulate what holds him down, night and day.

“I just. I don’t know. I feel like I’m struggling.” He speaks up to the ceiling. “It feels like its climbing up my throat, almost, and I am struggling to keep going with it. I do, I get up every day and do what I have to do as the red paladin, but as Keith Kogane, I am trying so fucking hard, and I cannot keep going like this. I’m going to break and I am fucking scared of it.”

Lance makes a soft, neutral noise.

“And nobody, nobody likes me, I know it, not even you and you’re like, the light of freedom and friendship in this dark fucking hellhole, and I keep failing everything and I want to give up. But if I give up,” Keith pauses very briefly to clear his throat again, because he’s going to sob if he doesn’t, “If I give up, then I’m going to doom the entire universe.”

“That’s..a lot for just one kid.” Lance sounds…worried. “How do you…do it?”

Keith knots his fingers in his hair. A nervous habit. “I just. Do. I guess. Shove it so far down I can’t even think about it and then just keep going, because if I stop, then I’m going to drown.”

“That must have been a lot for you.” Lance says reassuringly, getting up slowly and making his way towards Keith, slumping down against the chair and looking out at the stars right in front of him. “I’m sorry that we put that pressure on you.”

“We–” Keith’s head snaps over to Lance, tracing over the curve of his nose. “Shit. God, this has all happened to you and I’m the only one that’s responding like this because I can’t fucking take it. It’s not fair to you that I’m such a goddamn wreck about it when everyone else has just…figured it out. “

The laugh that spills out of Lance sounds wet. “You think we’ve…figured it out? Keith, we’re all fucking struggling through this together. We’re all hurting.”

Keith presses his lips together and swallows the hurting sob that bangs against his teeth to be let out.

“We thought you’d talk to someone. Shiro, maybe. Keith, you can’t hurt on your own forever. It’ll eat you alive and then chew on the bones until those are gone, too.” Lance’s hand rests on Keith’s elbow, and Keith doesn’t yank it away. He finds a little bit of comfort in the warmth of those fiddler’s fingers.

“You don't know that.” Keith bites out, his fingers digging into his knee.

Lance, to his credit, sighs thoughtfully. “I do. I absolutely do because I lived it. The Garrison was…misery reincarnated. No one liked me. I was almost entirely alone, even with Hunk and Pidge. But I kept moving, every single day until I snapped and started crying in Shiro’s office because he was nice.”

“I remember that day. Shiro came home all emotional because one of his students had trusted him with something so important. Figures it was you.” Keith laughs gently as he recalls the smile on Shiro’s face as he moved around the house making dinner that night.

“Yeah, that was me. I started talking to Veronica after that whenever I could. She got her doctorate in psychiatry and became a therapist, did you know that? I’m so fucking proud of her.” Lance’s voice shifts and it sounds blurry when he brings up his pride in his older sister.

It pulls at some loose string in his soul. Keith’s free hand reaches over and rests gently over the one sitting on his elbow. “She knows. I promise you, she knows that you are proud of her. Even all the way out here.”

“I’m glad you think so, Keith.” Lance looks over at him with a wet shine in his eyes and a weak, fond smile pulling at his lips.

They’re hurt together.

Keith cannot be fixed with just one conversation and a hand on his elbow.

Lance’s longing for his family cannot be mended with a glance at the stars and a hand on top of his.

But while they hurt together, they can start to heal intertwined.

—

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53325874

[josefavomjaaga]

😥 I was working long hours and took even longer to get to work (due to train strike), so I missed Marshal Ney’s birthday. I’m so sorry! I had planned to translate something special, and I hope it’s still a bit of a present even if it’s a day late.

In summer of 1809, while Soult was still licking his wounds after the disaster in Oporto, anxiously waiting for Napoleon’s judgement and trying to defend himself against all the rumours that accused him of high treason, all the while doing his best to bring Joseph and Jourdan to some action against Wellington - guess who at the same time came to Galicia to pay Michel Ney a visit? Right, Ney’s most devoted Dutch fan girl, Ida Saint-Elme! And it’s a particularly romantic part of her recollections, which were published as "Mémoires d’une Contemporaine":

Ney, who was hardly resting either, had just subdued Galicia.

Okay, Soult already wants to protest against this claim, but let’s ignore him. Please, Ida, go on:

I joined his corps at Banos, forty-eight hours before he came face to face with the English army, which the Marshal completely defeated. Already the spectacle of war, meeting the French battalions, the scent of glory, sweeter to breathe in this country than that of the orange trees that embalm it; this active life, animated entirely by emotion and spectacle, revived my imagination weary of the empty pleasures of the courts and of voluptuous Italy. I felt I was in my element: I was close to Ney, close to the heart that alone could make mine beat. I was happy just to know that he was so close to me and to tell him that we were barely a league apart. Here is the note I received in reply to mine: "Since it's your taste to have an arm or a leg less, hop on a horse and come here." As I read this short, military invitation, I jumped in the saddle and rode off. I had hardly gone a quarter of a league when I met him, and I read in his beaming face all that his note had not told me, the joy of seeing me again, which was the reward for my journey and happiness itself. I have forgotten the names of the places we passed through, but it seems to me that I have never seen a more enchanting place, a more beautiful sky, a sweeter dawn. There was something wild and proud about this rich and picturesque nature.

The road was lined with rocks like a crown. "Here is a magnificent shelter of ravines," Ney said to me, "the tree-lined slopes of which ensure their coolness; let us stop here; you must be in need of rest; we both need to open up and talk;" and here we were, with our horses' bridles slung over our arms, pushing aside the fragrant undergrowth with a vigorous hand, and looking for a retreat that could hear our confidences: it was easy to find in the ravines of Galicia; and, a few hundred paces from the road, we could believe ourselves to be entirely alone in the world. Our horses were quickly tied up, and the secluded spot a little farther on completed the safety of this meeting, so sudden and so little expected. We had been sitting for a few minutes when Ney struck the trunk of an old cedar with his foot, and said to me: "Here, Ida, here is a support for our feet, which will at least save us from a fall;" and, confident in this support so well met, we no longer feared to tread the embalmed moss which served us as a wild divan. I looked at him like one of those figures from a long dream, which the day suddenly shows and illuminates, and which we recognise with all the anxiety and all the troubles of the dream. It's him, though; it's definitely him, I said to myself; I can tell by the glory shining on his forehead, by the pressure of his powerful hand, which is as recognisable as his glory.

Thinking more of the hero than of my love, of the captain needed for his army than of the man needed for my heart, I shuddered fearfully at the thought of this isolation in a country so full of dangers, where a warrior's halt might unexpectedly be surprised by the dagger or bullet of partisans; in a country where hatred of the French name reverberates and watches from mountain to mountain. I felt guilty exposing to these perils, beneath such a great man, a life so dear and so beautiful, that informed assassins could cut it short. It was only a quick thought, but a vivid and gripping one, which, disturbing my thoughts, made me cling tightly to Ney, and as I let out this stifled whisper: "Ney, my friend, let's not stay here; let's go away." - "No, no," he replied, holding me back; "where else would we be, without witnesses to a happiness that I have rediscovered, and which needs solitude and mysterious effusion?" I looked at him with surprise at these words, but with delight, for I was as happy as I was astonished to have remained so dear to him. Never had Ney's face seemed more expressive, never had his looks been more eloquent, never had his words been more intoxicating.

If this was a modern-day AU, this would be the perfect moment for Ney’s phone to ring and for one infuriated Soult to ask why the F he was not receiving any news from Ney’s troops in Galicia. As it was, Ida’s little tête-à-tête with her one-and-only Ney could continue.

At the sight of the security imprinted on the warrior's features, I regained a similar security; there are those moments when everything you feel gives way to everything you inspire. Oh, what inexpressible delights this happiness given by a great man was! Our hearts, separated by such a long time and such long distances, seemed never to have parted, and tasted the pleasure of a similar conviction and an equal sharing of emotions. A new fear came to suspend the enchantment and give it, as it were, all the price of a victory. The reverse side of the ravine which had received us sloped down very rapidly; the trunk of the tree which supported the effort of our feet, a solid yet powerless support, suddenly gave way and broke at the very moment when, immersed as we both were in the rapture of an intimate conversation […]

Listen, it was a conversation, okay? They were only chatting! Intimately chatting!

[…], we had forgotten even the possibility of such a peril, from which Ney's presence of mind and prodigious strength alone saved us: With one hand he seized the branches of the bush that had sheltered us; with the other he pressed and held me violently against him; and, thanks to this struggle, we were able to regain our breath, escape the precipice, and manage to get back to our horses.

I really do not want to know how his aides would have tried to explain the fact that their marshal had fallen into the abyss and to his death while having an intimate conversation. Or why his pants were still up on the cliff...

But if any of the artists out there are looking for inspiration...

Speaking of Ney’s aides, one of them, Levavasseur, in his memoirs has this to say about Ida’s apperance in Spain:

It was at Banos that I saw a French woman arrive on horseback and ask for Marshal Ney. It was the woman who has since called herself la Contemporaine. This woman soon disappeared; what she says about the Marshal in her memoirs is pure invention.

Levavasseur: Don’t you believe what that woman wrote about Ney, she’s a total liar! Besides, she was only with us for a very short time…

But the funniest thing is his casual report on why Ida probably had to leave again so quickly: Ney was already occupied otherwise.

During this trip, the marshal took a tender interest in the duchess; one of my comrades had declared himself the knight of the eldest daughter, and I myself protected the youngest […]

I can’t help but think that the interest the general staff of this army corps was showing to all things female was overly excessive even by French standards… - Wait, what’s that? Oh, another missed phone call for Marshal Ney. Marshal Soult wants to discuss priorities in war times...