#she’s gonna wish it was her dad stabbing her

[smolfrosted]

I’m just gonna say it

I hate movie Vanessa :(

[ennabear]

− ⌗ CATALINA ISLAND ⊹∿

cw: catalina!abby/mamabear!abby/loser!abby/sub!abby, yara mention (i’m sorry… we miss u babygirl), slight themes of homophobia but nothing too heavy, post-pillars timeline so abby has short hair and no muscles, abby falls first but reader falls harder, tribbing eventually… 🙏 (not proofread)

wc: 6.0k

quite vividly does abby remember the first time she saw you. bright overhead lights stabbed through her vision, gloved fingers and cold metal tools poked and prodded at her extremely burnt, extremely sensitive skin. but not you, you were gentle with her. speaking in a hushed voice that comforted the dull ache crawling up her head, hands keeping their distance from her sore and aching body.

she felt at ease. for the first time in… months? years? decades? suddenly the weight of previous events didn’t seem so heavy. she felt lighter, calmer, unafraid. but maybe it was just the morphine making her feel this way, because she passed back out minutes after having this epiphany.

“abby…” the boy whispered. she didn’t hear it, too deep in her slumber to respond.

“abbyyyyyy, wake up.” he pleaded. nudging her sides and arms in an attempt to wake her. still, her rest was uninterrupted.

“ABBY!” he finally shouted, yanking her braid in despair.

“j’sus christ, lev, wha’ddyou want?” she yawned. one benefit of living out at sea was that there were never any threats out there. other than the occasional storm, they were completely safe, and abby could let her guard down for the first time in what felt like forever.

“come look at the stars with me.” he demanded, pointing to the front of the boat.

“are you serious?” abby asked, somewhat furious she got woken up for this, but could she blame him? his childlike wonder provided a refreshing new perspective. and as abby always said, lev used to live under a rock, so she was always happy to introduce him to new things, although his lack of general knowledge sometimes startled her.

“come on, please?” he added. “i’ve never seen them so bright before, pleaseee?”

abby huffed and got up, grabbing her blanket and taking it with her, already predicting lev would be shivering in an instant. and she was right. somehow, in the middle of the pacific ocean, the sun beating down on them for 12 hours a day, lev was always cold.

she took a seat on the deck next to him, wrapping the blanket around the two of them as they stared up into the sky. it was beautiful, she had to admit. it was hard to see the stars this clearly on land, and seeing the whole galaxy like this was such a treasure. it never stopped, no buildings or mountains concealing the sky, it was just pure space for miles.

they were silent for a while, lev looking up at the night sky with wide eyes, and abby still trying to shake the sleepiness from her mind.

“…abby?” lev asked after a while.

“yeah?” she responded.

“do you believe in a god?”

she debated this for a while. what a tricky question. did she want to believe? yes. 1,000%. but did she believe? … did she? does she? will she?

“i’m not sure.” she says. “no, i guess not.”

“i do. and i think that’s where yara is right now.”

oh. abby’s face falls, it’s always tough to think about lev’s sister. sure, she died a hero, but she shouldn’t have. she was so young, so strong, so determined, intelligent, kind, strategic, resilient. abby never knew her very well, but she replays the conversation she had with yara quite often. she wishes so badly she could’ve saved her, but at the end of the day it’s permanent. a script written in ink, a final decision.

if there is a god, i swear i’m gonna kill him she thinks.

“do you see that star?” lev asks, pointing up to an extra luminescent star twinkling brighter than the rest of them. “i think that’s her.” he continues. “and she’s always with us.”

abby huffs a laugh and stands, returning back to bed. “i don’t believe in all that.”

lev has no choice but to chase after her if he wants the warmth of the blanket back, so he does. “maybe your dad is up there too.” he states truthfully, climbing into bed next to her. her arms wrap around him as she settles back into slumber. “maybe,” she says. “or maybe he’s just gone.”

“do you ever miss him?” lev asks.

“every day. more than anything.” and suddenly she’s asleep again.

“abby?”

“abby?” …..

“ABBY!” the voice asks again, and suddenly she’s wide awake. she’s not on the boat with lev anymore, instead she’s… in a hospital? or an office? somewhere too bright that smells too much of disinfectant.

“it was just a dream,” you soothe, shushing her pained whimpers and cries. “you can go back to sleep if you’d like.”

she looks over to you, one of the sweetest sights she’s ever seen. “i’ve seen you before.” she whispers.

you smile and pat her hands, abby is one of your favorite patients. being on narcotics for weeks makes for an easy client, all you really do is change her bandages and occasionally silence her night terrors. you’ve actually gotten to know her quite well from her… son? you still don’t know the full story on that, apparently she betrayed the entire washington liberation front to adopt him and his sister, and that she’s been a better caretaker to him than his biological mother ever has been. but you can see in her youthful features that she’s still young. too young to be a mother. and lev cringes at the thought of calling her mom.

“where am i?” she asks, voice gravelly from being asleep for so long.

“catalina island critical care unit.” you respond gently. “or, CICCU, but i don’t wanna confuse you with too many letters.”

“where’s lev?” she asks frantically, suddenly fully aware that she’s not in the same room as him right now.

“he’s okay. sleeping. it’s pretty late.”

“was i talking?” she asks, cringing at the thought of someone as perfect as you listening to her blabber in her sleep.

“no, not this time. but i always prefer your talking over your screaming.” you joke.

“what do i talk about?” she asks, although not sure she wants to hear the answer.

“lev mostly. sometimes others, usually ‘manny’ and ‘alice’.”

“oh.” she sighs. she feels so much better compared to the night she first saw you. was that when she arrived? whatever, she can’t remember anything other than you. her muscles aren’t sore anymore, her skin feels cooler and softer, finally.

“you should go back to sleep.” you say. “your body needs the rest, and i’m not really supposed to be talking to my patients anyways.”

she raises an eyebrow at this. “why’s that?”

“my social skills are no good, that’s why they put me on the night shift. i’m not sweet or gentle enough for daytime caretaking.”

blasphemy. you? not sweet or gentle? this is the first time in her whole life she’s felt truly comfortable, and it’s all because of you. she closes her eyes, willing herself to get more rest before she sees you again.

her daytime nurse fucking sucks. she’s an old lady with a scratchy voice, not deep and smooth like yours. and she’s mean. abby always catches her talking shit about other doctors at the hospital, and it’s not even normal stuff like gossip or personal experience and whatnot, she takes real jabs at the people in the community, coming for their looks and personalities. worst of all, the mean nurse hates you.

she always chatters on about how you can never do your job correctly, and apparently you’re wasting all of god’s honor by not being married yet. but it’s not until the mean nurse mentions “sleeping around with… females…” that she finally listens to what the mean nurse is saying, and she has a strong feeling she relates to you just fine.

abby sighs in relief when you walk in for your night shift. you catch this, giggling a little “what was that about?”

“i hate the other nurse.” she pouts, grimacing at the thought of seeing her again when dusk turns to dawn.

“who, dr. cosby?” you ask.

“yeah, if that’s her name.”

“i don’t like her either,” you admit. “but she’s the only one completely trained in full time caretaking.”

“do you have to work with her?” abby asks, growing slightly defensive over you. she’s gotten to know you over the past few days, too, and you’ve been able to fill in some of the gaps from the stories lev has told you.

“yeah, almost every day. she’s kinda like my boss since she’s training me, but she doesn’t pay me or anything… which kinda makes it worse. i feel like i deserve an extra paycheck for putting up with her.” you laugh.

abby still can’t get over your laugh, the sweet, deep giggles that seem to float out of you like bubbles. abby doesn’t realize this yet, but she has a huge crush on you.

“anyways, you’re supposed to be asleep, anderson.” you accuse, pointing a jokingly angry finger at her.

“yeah, yeah, i know.” she says, sighing deeply. “but i missed you, and i wanted to see you again after the mean nurse.”

“that’s sweet.” you start. “but if the mean nurse finds out you haven’t been sleeping because of me, i’m fired. and they’ll replace me with someone worse.”

abby laughs, pulling a pillow over her face to cover her giggles, and falls into another restful sleep after a few minutes.

she manages to survive a few more days with dr. cosby. or, the mean nurse, in the vocabulary the two of you share. the only thing that makes it bearable is knowing she’ll see you every night, and lev even visits her sometimes. tonight is different, though, because you don’t walk in at 9:00 pm when you’re regularly scheduled. dr. cosby does. abby groans audibly, she wishes she would’ve done it louder. well, she wishes she could scream in dr. cosby’s face, but she isn’t trying to get kicked out of the CICCU before she’s fully healed.

“usual nurse is out.” the mean nurse spits. ‘usual nurse’? so she can’t find the courtesy to learn your name?

“out where?” abby questions.

“on a… date.” she hisses.

oh shit, abby grins. a date with a woman i bet. dr. cosby isn’t happy about that.

and then it hits her.

oh shit… abby frowns. you’re on a date with someone else right now. you decided to spend the night with another woman, ditching your usual visits with abby. this hurts. her heart twists with jealousy, suddenly the room is spinning, and she has to turn and face the wall before dr. cosby can catch her weeping into her blanket like a little kid.

abby hasn’t seen you once since the night before your date. when the mean nurse comes back in the morning, she discharges abby and orders a soldier to escort her to the lodge she and lev are to share. so that’s it? she’s never gonna see you again? lev is out at school when she gets there, so abby has the whole place to herself until he gets back. she finds herself staring into the mirror for an unhealthy amount of time. christ, she looks different. her hair is short and choppy, although it’s gotten longer since she’s arrived. her muscles are almost completely gone. whatever the lack of training couldn’t remove, malnutrition withered away. she has scars all over her face and arms, her skin is still bumpy and blistered from the overexposure to the california sun. she looks… smaller? not tall and buff and scary anymore, but weak. fragile. she doesn’t look like abby. and that’s a terrifying thought.

she spends about an hour in the shower, scrubbing the hospital scent off of her skin and running her fingers through her short hair. she decides to spent the rest of the day orienting herself in this new space. she’s never lived in a real house before, and she feels like an alien trying to do so. lev finds her laying on the couch, studying the bumps and ridges in the ceiling.

“abby?” he calls from the doorway, slinging his backpack off of his shoulders. the poor kid almost cries when he sees her, out of excitement or fear, nobody knows. abby tries to pick him up as he throws himself at her body, but she can’t anymore. she doesn’t have the strength with how much she’s been weakening and how much lev has been growing. this crushes her even more, but she settles for a firm squeeze to the kid, and realizes how much her ribs do still hurt.

she doesn’t sleep well that night, it’s not the same without you. she misses your heavy voice lulling her to sleep and the euphoria she got from laughing with you. something deep and heavy settles in her stomach when she remembers you now spend your nights with someone else. she’s jealous. and she’s sad. overwhelmed from being in such a new place. and she misses you. and tonight when she sleeps, it’s dreamless and restless and leaves her even more exhausted.

you miss abby. you didn’t know the night you were gone would be the night she got discharged, and you wonder if this is a coincidence or if it’s some evil plan from dr. cosby. your date wasn’t even a date anyways. the girl you were meeting showed up to the diner, but left after a few minutes after saying she needed to freshen up. you saw her leave out of the back door. so you snacked on soggy fries and day-old fish until you got fed up and went home and cried into your pillow. was dr. cosby right? are you really not likable? to make matters worse, now that abby is gone you don’t have any more easy patients. you have to take care of a snappy old man who was in a boating accident. nobody can tell if he’s suffering from brain damage or if he’s just stupid, and it’s starting to drive you mad.

you miss abby. you miss watching her sleep, how her sweet face would contort into an expression of pure bliss as she finally had a peaceful dream, and how sometimes she would reach out and hold your hand for a few hours while she slept. she might be the only person on this whole island who likes you.

you two don't run into each other for about a month. the community you live in is small, but the whole island is divided into communities of about the same size. abby is sentenced to a desk job, something she'd never seen herself doing. she spends all day crunching numbers, scribbling things down on various documents and punching in even more symbols on her calculator. she's surprisingly good at it, her brain works efficiently and she's incredible at finding mistakes and working through them. lev teases her about becoming a nerd, but he's the one who voluntarily stays after school for tutoring, so she teases him right back.

you run into her right before one of your shifts, picking up a prescription from the pharmacy and dropping by her workplace to pick up some more documents. you freeze in your tracks when you see her, awkwardly blurting out an "abby! wow, uh... you look good."

and it's true. she looks better than good, she's glowing. her hair looks softer and fluffier now that it's not matted from the pillows, her skin is clearing up and restoring its natural color (which is a lot more peaceful than the burnt red it was), and she looks fuller. not nearly as big and muscular as she used to be, but she's started to gain some weight back and finally doesn't look tiny. abby notices you staring, taking in her new appearance. "thanks... so do you." she chuckles.

"i didn't know they cleared you to work." you stammer. actually, you didn't know anything about her ever since she was suddenly good to go, which you've decided is definitely dr. cosby's fault. so the two of you spend the rest of the night chatting and catching up with one another. she tells you about her job, her house, and how good lev is doing in school. you tell her about some of your newest patients, and when she asks about your date, you find pleasure in telling her that it was terrible. abby feels giddy after hearing this, not that she gets a kick out of your humiliation, but she's happy to know that you're single, and that you regret ditching her that night.

the time completely slips away from both of you, and before you know it you're an hour late for work. "shit!" you jump. "god, i'm sorry. i gotta go, i'm about to get fired!" you cry as you run down the hallway and out of the building. she laughs at this, tidying up her desk before clocking out and waking herself home. she sleeps very well that night, knowing that you're single and that you're willing to be late to work just to talk to her.

she greets you two days later with coffee outside of your office. "glad to see you didn't get fired." she jokes, you roll your eyes. "if i get written up one more time i'm done for." neither of your bosses are in today, so you finally have some peace to do your job without being yelled at. when you're not meeting with a patient, you let abby follow you around like a lost puppy, you notice how soft her hands have become when you grab them and tug her along next to you.

"thanks?" she mutters, cheeks sparkling with a pretty pink blush.

"oh, shit, i didn't mean to say that out loud." you cringe. "but it's true. they're very soft."

abby blushes impossibly more at this, so you like her hands? does that... mean anything? you're so forward with her it makes her a little dizzy, it's hard to keep up with your subtle flirtatious remarks when she can barely look at you without stuttering and tripping over herself. you're like a savior to her. you are her savior, if you didn't patch her up after her and lev had arrived, would she still be here? if she didn't get eaten alive by an infection she might've offed herself after the countless exhausting interactions with the mean nurse.

“how did you know how i take my coffee?” you ask suddenly. abby doesn’t know how to answer. well, she does, actually. but she’s too shy to say that sometimes she’d wake up and watch you while she was supposed to be sleeping. you’d place your coffee cup on her nightstand and flick on the lamp next to it, and then instantly stick your nose in a book. when she got done studying your face, she memorized the books you liked and the coffee you drank.

“if you’re stalking me, i won’t be upset.” you joke. abby laughs awkwardly, still calculating her answer in her mind.

“i dunno, i just know you, i guess.” she finally responds.

“fair, but now i feel bad because i don’t know how you take your coffee.” you frown. she chuckles, dismissing your concern.

“no, seriously. i feel like i barely know you, and i miss getting to know you ever since the mean nurse discharged you the night i was out.” you tell her. she can’t see where you’re going with this, so she just freezes and waits for you to make it obvious. “we should go out for coffee sometime. this weekend, maybe, if you’re free.”

are you asking her on a date? platonically or romantically? do you actually like her as much as she likes you? abby stares at the ground as she thinks about what to say again. “if you don’t want to, that’s okay.” you smile. “i won’t be offended.”

“i-” she starts, trying to speak deliberately as to not stumble over her words. “i do want to. that would be really great.”

you plant a kiss on her cheek as she turns to leave, heading to her own job instead of yours. she barely registers it, giggling and swatting you away before realizing that you kissed her. she halts her stroll when she finally processes it, reaching her fingers up to feel over the spot your lips pressed to. her cheeks turn beet red as she replays what happened, and fuck, she wants you to do it again. she debates running back into the hospital to beg for another kiss, but decides not to make a fool of herself. not today, at least.

her shift passes in what feels like forever. she wants to see you again, she wants it to be the weekend so badly. curse the calendar for deeming today a thursday, and curse your work schedule for not letting you go on a date with her now.

she clocks out excitedly as soon as her shift is over, practically jogging home to meet lev for dinner. they eat on the couch, watching some old dvd of a pre-breakout day cartoon. lev falls asleep as the show crawls on, so she has to face the disappointment of shaking him awake, wishing she still had the strength to pick him up. she watches as he waddles with all ten of his blankets to his bedroom, and then collects the dishes to scrub them off in the sink.

just as sleep is about to take her, she bolts awake with a great idea. shoving her shoes on, she jogs back out of the door, practically sprinting to the hospital to catch you before you clock in for the night. when you see her standing behind you, you jump backwards and yelp, almost knocking over a cart full of needles. “god, abby!” you curse. “you scared the shit outta me.”

“sorry…” she smiles sheepishly, a look you’ve grown to love.

“what are you doing here?” you question. “are you hurt?”

“no, i just wanted to see you. i couldn’t sleep, if that counts as an ailment.” she says, lying through her teeth. she was about to sleep soundly knowing your date was only in a few days.

“well, i’m glad to know you’re okay, but you really need to work on prioritizing your sleep.” you scold her, but you can’t help but melt at the dopey smile on her lips.

“yes, doctor.” she laughs, rolling her eyes. “are we still on for this weekend?”

“of course, if you’re not a zombie by the time we get to saturday.” you smile, nudging her with your elbow.

“alright, sorry,” she sighs theatrically. “i guess i’ll leave you alone now.”

“i’m sorry for kissing you on the cheek earlier.” you blurt out, although you probably should just let the moment be. “it was just… muscle memory i guess.”

“muscle memory?” she asks, dumbfounded.

“i dunno, sorry, it was definitely inappropriate. but you used to ask me for a small peck whenever i woke you up from your night terrors. i’d be surprised if you remember it, though. we had you on some pretty hefty meds.”

abby has always had trouble sleeping. as a kid, she’d have terrible nightmares that she couldn’t wake up from on her own. her dad would nudge her awake, and then soothe her back to sleep with a firm kiss on the cheek. it helped every time, and she slept like a baby knowing her dad would protect her. after he passed, the nightmares were more frequent, and there was no one to calm her down once she woke.

that must’ve been why she’d wake up screaming, eyes open yet unable to focus as you calmed her down to the best of your ability. you’d take her heart rate and blood pressure to make sure nothing was out of the ordinary, and then stroke her short hair while she fell back to sleep. she’d huff and kick for the first few minutes, and then reach out for your hand, guiding it to the apple of her cheek. you thought at first she wanted something cool against her burning skin, but once you moved your hand away, she demanded a kiss in a raspy and very delirious voice.

“no, it’s okay, really.” she assures you. “it’s a comfort thing i used to do with my dad. you don’t need to feel bad, i promise.”

“go to sleep, princess abby.” you demand again. “i’ll see you saturday.”

with a smirk, abby turns and walks back out the door she came in. she slips back through her front door as silently as she can, and falls asleep thinking about all the ways she’s embarrassed herself in front of you. how many more times can she do it? and how long until she cuts the shit and admits her feelings for you?

saturday comes quicker than abby would like. ever since that night, she couldn’t help but fret about your feelings toward her. did you really kiss her out of muscle memory, or did you genuinely want to? her heart warmed at the sweet gesture of you soothing her back to sleep on the nights her dreams were infiltrated with death and fear and abandonment, but did you do that with all of your patients?

she tried to ignore these thoughts as they came up, but it was nearly impossible to. she dressed herself in a beige sweater and a pair of jeans, tucking her hair behind her ears and accessorizing with a black hair clip. she looks gorgeous. it’s hard not to faint when you see her, the fluttering in your stomach keeping you on your feet.

the pair of you sit tucked away in a cafe booth, chatting away like time isn’t real. you’re surprised to learn that abby knows quite a bit about medicine, the knowledge coming from her father who was a doctor too. she tells you stories of her childhood, and you can see the resemblance between her and her dad, she treats lev just as well as her dad treated her. you don’t mention this, though, because you can tell she’s starting to tear up the more she talks about him.

when the conversation slows down, you decide to bite the bullet and ask her something that’s been on your mind. “abby? can i ask you something?”

“shoot.” she says.

“do you… like me?” you try. “i mean— i dunno. i’ve never really had friends before, not like you. i guess i just wanna know if you enjoy hanging out with me, or if you’re just doing this because i seem desperate.”

“of course i like you.” she affirms. “i’ve never met anyone as sweet or as gentle as you, and i’ve met a lot of people.”

“okay, cool. good. i like you too.” you say, reaching out to grab her hand that’s resting on the table. she smiles and squeezes your hand, looking deeply into your eyes.

“do you wanna get out of here?” you ask.

sand fills the holes in your shoes as the two of you stroll the beach hand in hand. abby still has that giddy feeling in her stomach, although she still can’t tell if you’re actually into her or if you just wanna be friends. you did mention just friends earlier, but you’re also holding her hand sweetly in yours.

you don’t know how to explain your feelings for abby. she’s such a sweet girl, and she’s a few years younger than you. you want her all to yourself, you want to take all of her pain and suffering away and start a family with her. you wanna run away with her and live in a small beach house together. but is that crazy? you’ve only known her for about four months at this point, how long is too long to wait? how long is too short? you don’t wanna overwhelm her, she just started a completely new life after escaping seattle where all of her friends and family were murdered in front of her. it’s obvious she’s still grieving, missing the family she created and the life she had.

when you reach the top of the hill, you sit and dangle your feet off of the mini cliff, looking out at the horizon painted in front of you. abby takes a seat next to you, wrapping both of her hands around yours. you smile at her, proud of how far she’s come ever since rolling in half-dead and practically fried. she looks human now, and she looks really… pretty.

“you flatter me too much.” she says with a shy smile.

you groan. jesus christ, you need to stop thinking out loud before it kills you.

“sorry, i didn’t mean to make things weird.” you cringe again.

“it’s not weird. i think you’re pretty too.”

your heart skips a beat at this. it’s too late, your habit of thinking out loud is about to kill you right now. because your lips are on abby’s and you’re kissing her with all of your might. her lips taste like honey and coffee, a sweet mix of flavors that you’ll crave for the rest of your life.

“is it weird that i just kissed my doctor?” she asks.

“i’m not your doctor. i’m the crazy person who’s job was to watch you sleep in case you had seizures or heart attacks.”

she giggles at this, leaning in to capture your lips in another sweet kiss. you both stay there until sunset, giggling and kissing and chatting like little kids in love.

to your dismay, you get up and leave as soon as the sunset fades, not wanting to be stranded at sea in pitch black darkness. abby walks you home, arm thrown over your shoulders. you frown when you reach your own cabin, not wanting to leave her. “can i see you tomorrow?” you ask, praying she’ll say yes.

“of course,” she says. “i’ll be here.”

it’s impossible for you to sleep after the incredible day you just had. you keep licking your lips in hope that the honey-coffee taste will still be lingering, but it’s not. tomorrow can’t come soon enough, and now you feel bad for teasing abby about her lack of sleep because you finally get it.

abby sleeps soundly tonight. all of her fears are dissolved floating away like ashes in the wind. she feels free. finally ready to start a new chapter of her life now that she’s escaped the tragedies from seattle and the torture from santa barbara.

you wake up bright and early the next morning, showering and cooking and cleaning and dressing yourself as efficiently as you can. the excitement of seeing her again fuels your motivation, but once your whole lodge is spotless, it’s hard to find something to do with your energy. you sigh in relief when abby knocks on your door ten minutes early, her brain must be in sync with yours.

as you open the door, you practically jump into her arms. she pulls you in for a big bear hug, seeming to have missed you just as much as you’ve missed her.

you have nothing planned, so you snack on a box of cookies while sitting in bed, staring out of the window that overlooks the ocean. it’s a gloomy day, but it’s nice to people watch and gossip about various things you’ve heard through the grapevine.

after a while you get tired, and abby lets you rest your head on her shoulder in case you wanna fall asleep. you don’t, though. no matter how heavy your eyelids get, you force yourself to enjoy every second that passes with her. well, there is something you wanna do with her, but you’re not too sure how she feels about it.

“abby? can i ask you another weird question?”

“always.” she laughs.

“do you wanna have sex with me?”

her heart thrums harder in her chest, and heat spreads from her cheeks to her ears.

“sorry, i shouldn’t ha—”

“yes.” she interrupts. “but, i— it’s been a while. i’m not very… i dunno…”

“if you don’t want to it’s fine.” you assure her. “it’s also fine if you wanna just lay there and let me do the work, i don’t mind.”

she nods at the second option, leaning back and throwing her shirt off while you do the same. her abdomen is less bloody and bruised than you remember, but you can still see her ribs and a few scars. she blushes when she catches you staring, leaning back timidly.

“don’t be nervous, abby. i’m a doctor, i’ve seen bodies. especially yours, and i think you’re beautiful.”

she blushes harder at this, but laughs and says “i thought you were a creepy nurse who watches people sleep, not a doctor.”

you giggle and shut her up with a kiss, reaching down to unbutton her jeans. “can i?” you ask.

“yes, please, fuck.”

as soon as you get her jeans down, you tug her boxers down too. sure you should wait, and it might be polite to engage in a little foreplay, but you’re craving her right now. her bush is curly in the center, right where is dripping wet, and she has a beautiful blonde happy trail that crawls all the way up to her belly button. she’s so hot you might need an oxygen tank.

“the quicker you stop staring and fuck me, the quicker we can get you that oxygen tank.” she laughs.

“oh god… i didn’t mean to say that. again.”

you tug your own underwear off and sit your cunt right on top of hers. abby intertwines her legs with yours, and the angle lets you slide across her perfectly. “jesus christ.” she moans, currently unable to control the noises she’s making.

she’s so sensitive it drives you mad. the last time she hooked up with anyone was more than a year ago, and ever since then she’s been prioritizing keeping herself alive over jacking off. whenever your clits bump, you feel a small, warm splash of her squirt against your cunt, and it makes you more aroused than you’ve ever been.

it gets very messy very quickly. your lips crash together in a heated and very wet kiss, and your cunts are creating a pile of slick that’s currently dripping down abby’s ass and making a puddle on the bed. you can’t tell if you’re dizzy because of your arousal, sleepiness, or love for her, but you feel like you’re on cloud nine.

abby cums after only a few minutes, and when she does she twitches and writhes and squeals so much you think you might have to sedate her. you keep grinding on her until you cum, which quickly overstimulates her even further until you’re almost positive she’s blacked out or something.

when you come down from your own high, you scoot yourself off of her. two clear strings of slick connect you to her, but eventually break and drip down onto the bed. she sighs when you lay next to her.

“was that good?” you ask.

“fuck. i think i need the oxygen mask more than you do.” she pants. you laugh and wrap your arms around her, ready to get a few minutes of cuddling in before you force your aftercare routine upon her.

she sighs. “thanks for taking care of me.”

“you know i’ll always take care of you, abby. right? just because i’m not your nurse anymore doesn’t mean i don’t love you anymore.”

“you love me?”

“ever since the day i met you.”

[rizsu]

nonsensical questions — you must answer! tokyo revengers, jujutsu kaisen.

⤹ list ﹕ s. shinichiro + i. wakasa | f. toji + r. sukuna.

being a father means your child is either gonna humble you or throw questions only the divine can answer.

+ extra. for toji's part megumi's an older brother 😝

SHINICHIRO SANO — “well...!”

“daddy, if the sun went boom what would you do?”

curiousity is a child's best friend. when his son asks a question, the boy will not stop until he gets his answer.

curiousity, on the other hand, is not a father's best friend. shinichiro's more experienced than his five-year-old, he's had his fair share of ‘curiousity killed the cat’ moments.

as if shaping the mangoes into star-shaped pieces wasn't enough for him, he just had to spice it up with a triple question-mark (???) question and his cute actions.

the little one, or as shinichiro calls him, mini shini, was the one who introduced the question. he stretched out both arms and drew an imaginary circle in the air to reenact the sun going “boom!”

a sweat-bead trickles down shinichiro's neck. he swallows hard. if he dares to answer the question wrong, it'll only result in a challenging battle to make him eat the fruit. he ponders on the question, what would he do if the sun truly went boom?

die? no, that's too intense.

stop it? a power he wish he had.

tell the sun “don't do that!”? sounds like a perfect answer.

shinichiro places the star-shaped cutter down, lifting the boy onto the countertop. stabbing one of the many mango pieces with the child's fork, he imitates the sound of an airplane, swirling the fork in a bee-line before it lands in his son's mouth.

the action sends the younger one into a fit of giggles. he happily chews on the fruit, kicking his dangling feet back-and-forth.

“and as for your question,” shinichiro begins, “i'll tell the sun to not go boom-boom before it booms.”

he ends the sentence with a smile, gearing up the fork for another airplane run.

his son, however, doesn't return the excitement. instead, he tilts his head, slows the pace of his kicking, and questions his father, “but the sun is all the way up there. you're down here. how would that work?”

shinichiro smiles ear-to-ear, finding the genuine curiousity of his son amusing. he uses his free hand to ruffle the boy's hair, feeding him the fruit as he speaks, “because i'm your dad!”

WAKASA IMAUSHI — “realistically speaking–”

the backyard, wakasa, his toddler, a bucket of pink paint with a paintbrush, and a kid-sized vanity. it's finally daddy-daughter playtime and his little girl is energized and ready! after her well deserved nap, she's been more bouncy than ever. her steps have little jumps to it, her now messy pigtails still bounce with her, and her painted palms are evidence of the happiness.

as soon as the toddler woke up, she stared into nothingness to regain her senses. then, she immediately made it her mission to run to her dad.

“papa! papa!” was the only word heard throughout the hallways alongside her footsteps. it didn't take her any longer than a minute to find her father situated on the hammock outside.

she stopped in her tracks halfway there, raising a finger up to her mouth. it's an action she does whenever she's making a decision. wakasa looks peaceful; should she go to him or go back? of course, she goes to her dad!

when she arrived next to him, she stood on the tip of her toes to see inside the hammock. there he is, peaceful with his eyes closed. the slumber — or whatever he's doing — doesn't last for long. his newly found father instincts have been tickled and tingled. he sensed the presence of his daughter.

wakasa opened his eyes, greeting his daughter with a soft smile and lifting her onto him.

“slept well?” he asked, running his hand on top of her head in attempts to smoothen the stray hair strands.

“mhm, i did!” she nods.

“me too, princess,” he mumbles, yawning after the sentence.

the two sit in silence, enjoying the perfect weather.

toddlers aren't experts at sitting for too long. soon, she got bored and jumped off her dad's lap.

“papa, can i have a unicorn?” she pouts, patting her hands on his arm.

wakasa coughs. he accidentally choked on his saliva after hearing such a question. unicorns aren't real, and he's not going to rent a horse. it's not the same — his baby would be disappointed!

“an’ i want it to paint my table pink!” she disrupts his thoughts, adding another sentence to her previous one.

“i'm sorry princess. i can't get you a unicorn, but i can paint your table pink,” he breaks the news to her, immediately following up with a suggestion. although the unicorn won't be in the equation, the pink table will, and that's more than enough for her!

and that's the reason as to why they're surrounding her vanity with a bucket of pink paint. wakasa took his time to drag the vanity out, and his princess took her time to bring the paintbrush!

channeling his inner painter skills, he got to work as soon as she brought the brush. a little swish and swash of the brush and her vanity was eighty-percent finished. even though she lacked a brush, it didn't stop her from dipping her hands into the paint and using that as her brush. a bit of a mess, but nothing will ever get in between daddy-daughter time!

TOJI FUSHIGURO — “*lost the war and the battle*”

toji experienced more in emotions today than he's ever had in his entire life. whether it's the five stages of grief or exhaustion, he felt it all. his three-year-old daughter made sure to run her father's pockets and his mind dry. what was supposed to be a monthly home restocking run ended up being an expensive whatever-fits-in-the-cart-daddy-buys-it run. megumi got himself two lego sets, and the baby girl got herself a dollhouse.

don't be fooled; it's not just any regular dollhouse. it's a walk-in, spacious, pastel pink and white with purple accents dollhouse. toji knew the moment she stopped in her tracks with her mouth agape his card would end up maxed out.

he gulped, hoping that she doesn't turn around to him. during toji's younger days, if he didn't want to deal with something he'd pretend he doesn't see it. if he can't see it, the problem does not exist. but now, he's a father — he has duties!

as the younger sister by four years, megumi's bound to do as his sister says. the seven-year-old boy made sure to be his sister's knight the very minute she came into the world. he was in love, a little jealous, and absolutely adored her. if she wanted that dollhouse, he'd back her up!

“daddy—”

“not today, princess. not today.”

not today? such words are nonexistent in her world. something must be wrong with her father. she turns around, walking up to him with her arms stretched out. toji follows suit, bending over to lift her.

she squints at him, he pretends to not notice, megumi busies himself with his toy car while imitating the sounds of a sports car.

“i wan’ the dolly house!” she pouts, using one hand to repeatedly pat on his chest and the other pointing at the dollhouse in view.

“you can't have it today,” he explains, shooting her a small smile that has a double meaning.

again, she doesn't get it. once a child is confused, they begin using a word they won't stop using.

“why?”

“'cause i said so.”

“why?” she tilts her head.

“not today, sweetie,” he tilts his head.

“but why?” she raises an eyebrow.

toji begins to feel the stress creeping in, “because—”

“i can put my toys back if it's too much,” megumi intervenes, he's been watching them for a minute now. he, too, wants the dollhouse, but he won't say that! it's not in line with his knight image.

“no, meg'. leave it in there,” he rejects his son's offer. toji's been strong on letting megumi know he mustn't sacrifice his wants for others... and it'll be unfair if he had to put his toys back.

this almost set the three-year-old off — she wants that dollhouse! seeing that megumi's toys fit in the trolley, maybe she can break down the dollhouse and fit it in the trolley too.

“daddy, break the dolly house ‘nd put it in the trolley!” she increases the pace of the hand patting on his chest. she had a bright idea and she's going to stick to it.

toji goes silent. the idea isn't the smartest, but he felt his proud dad senses tingle. his second baby had a suggestion! an actual one! and she didn't use “why” this time!

giving in he walked towards to house, still against it but what can he do in the faces of his children? they're his weakness. he didn't win this time, but he'll win next time. this counts as the fifty-seventh lost.

SUKUNA RYOMEN — “apparently i do not have rights.”

“papa, let's play dress up.”

sukuna doesn't know if he's offended or proud. instead of a question, he was met with a statement. there weren't any greetings, any hugs, just nothing but a statement. she walked in with business! slowly, but surely, she's showing signs that she's taking after him and he's never been more proud.

however, such proudness doesn't mean he's going to twinkle and sprinkle. he's a man and will continue to look like it — not.

who told sukuna he had freedom of speech? what made him think his little carbon copy wasn't going to drag him? with her two hands securing their grip on his wrist, she walked backwards to her room. the only time sukuna accepts defeat is when he's face-to-face with her. he's a gun, but she's a bomb. it is evident that he's overpowered by her.

the moment he entered her room, he was met with instant sparkles and positivity. he knew he was about to be princess-fied and there's unfortunately nothing that can be done.

she sits him down on her stool. then, she grabs her tiara, standing on her tiptoes to place it on his hair. she gathers her toy makeup and her glitter-included perfume. sukuna's right eye twitches; he can feel the items laughing at him.

“it's makeup time!” she announces, opening the palette of six bright colours.

she dabs her finger in the purple eyeshadow. making sure there's enough pigment, she swipes it over on to his eyelids. one layer done, another to go. this time she goes in with blue just below his eyebrows. satisfied with the eyeshadow, she goes in with white in the middle to blend the colours. a perfect mix!

the next step is the blush. she whips out the blush, using three fingers to apply it this time. she repeats until she's satisfied with the amount. sukuna's cheeks are as rosy as a rose!

the last item is the lipgloss. it's also his most dreaded one. he despises the way the lipgloss feels on his lips — it's far too sticky for his liking! he'd rather use oil. in sad attempts to soften the stickyness, sukuna licks his lips.

she squeezes the tube until the gloss overflows. it's just the right amount to apply on and over his lips. her hands are a little shaky, but she's still a good makeup artist!

sukuna has now been princess-fied. due to his behaviour at her studio, she gives him a star sticker.

“papa, you're pretty now!” she compliments, clapping her hands at her creation.

sukuna took the compliment another way. was he not pretty before? did that mean she found him visually troubled? maybe she doesn't — kids are honest people, and she doesn't know how to lie yet.

[idcbabyialreadylostmymind]

L'appel du Vide pt.2

Pairing- Sully family x Sully!reader

Summary- You and your mother kept a secret about your self harm but how long can you keep it?

Pt.1 pt.2 pt.3

Warnings- depictions of self harm, self harm, crying, cussing

A/N- I might make a pt.3 idk yet

It had been two weeks since your mother saw you at your lowest, and everytime she looks at you like your gonna hurt yourself, you wish you could go back in time before all this happened. And every night and hour after Eclipse she comes into your room and checks on you she thinks you don't know but you do. But she hasn't told your father and you thank Eywa for that. But the tension between you and your mother certainly hasn't gone unnoticed.

But now everything was so much you were in the ground searching for your balde your mother threw across the room and you found it. You took a deep breath and put it into your bag and run to the beach we're Amhel was tied up.

Your father told you that you couldn't ride Amhel anymore but you needed space from everything even from yourself. You made it to some small remote island and sat down and took a deep breath and every emotion you've shoved out or pushed away flooded right back in. You brought the blade and rushed it across the skin of your wrist doing it multiple ways until you couldn't anymore. You out the balde back in your bag and lean into Amhel and look up at the stars.

It was an two hours past eclipse, your eyes open and Amhel chirps. You must have fallen asleep, "Shit." You whisper to yourself as you get into Amhel and rush back home. Meanwhile, you mother was searching around frantically. "Neytiri it's going to be okay." Jake was worried and the way your mother looked made his worry worsen. "No it isn't Ma Jake you don't kno-" cut off by the sound of Amhel's wings getting closer she rushes towards the beach and she looks at you searching for an injury on your body. She grabs your wrist and you wince and she tilts her head and clenches her jaw.

"Y/N where were yo-" before he could do his old school dad scolding Neytiri spoke harshly. "House now." You bite back your tongue as you walked home in your head repeating. "Stupid stupid stupid."

When you made it you didn't see your siblings. "Y/N te Suli Neytiri'ite." Your mother spoke making shivers run down your back. "What." You say just wanting to go to your room now she was taken back by how harsh your voice was. "Where were you?" She asked your father finally made it in and looked at your deadpanned expression and your mother's face that showed anger with a hint of sadness. "No where important obviously." You say sitting your bag down and Neytiri grabbed it making you rush towards it. "Hey!" Jake said in a deep loud voice. You look at your mother still no expression. "Now we're were you." He asked this time voice softer. "Just some island." You say sitting down.

"What did you do Y/N?" Neytiri asked clenching the bag. "None of your business now give me my bag." You felt cornered your defense mechanisms came up. "What's in the bag Y/N?" Neytiri asked Jake stood there way watching his wife and his daughter have some argument about something he knows nothing about. "Nothings in the bag how would you feel if I took your bow and held from you now give me my god damn bag." You felt as if a million eyes were on you. Neytiri shook her head and opened your bag and threw stuff out until she saw what she feared.

She looked at you, you had a hateful expression on your face. "Really." She said and all you did was wipe your now tear stained face. "Give it back." You say. Jake was still confused. "What is going on with you two it's like you two have something going on now what is it." He said but your eyes never left your mother she gave him the blade as tears fell from her eyes. "She's been harming herself." The words left your mom and it felt as if you had been stabbed in the back your transparent eyebrows furrowed as you turned away from your parents.

Jake looked at you the way you hid your wrist and he sat the balde down, and then it was as if it all clicked together all the excuses to why you have cuts all over yourself you caused them to yourself and he was to blind to see it, to blind to see his babygirl was hurting. "Oh babygirl no." He said you hear the painful emotions in his voice. "You don't have to do that we understand-"

"No you don't you don't understand me you don't understand how I feel like I'm just someone living another person's life, how I feel like my family isn't my family, how I feel like I'm already dead you don't understand shit now give me my shit back." You hiss at your father who only looked at you with tears in his eyes. "And stop looking at me like that!" You yell and your mother jumped back.

"Sweetheart it's okay it's okay." He's words made you dig your fingers into your arm. He saw and hugged you. "You don't have to hurt yourself any more you angry hurt me hit me kick me do anything but don't hurt yourself anymore, your my baby girl." Your arms clamped around him as you cry into his chest, like you were a little kid and that how you felt like a little kid who only wants her daddy and mama to hold her and tell her everything is going to be alright. But was it really?

Tags- @ellabellabus07 @isnt-itstrange

[dontsh0vethesun]

bite the bullet

masterlist

melissa schemmenti x reader

18+: fluff, tiniest bit of angst/insecure mel, smut; fingering, oral, thigh riding, choking, vague dom/sub, unspecified age gap

wc: 2.5k

Not even Melissa’s favourite pasta sauce could ease the sourness in her veins; her fork stabbed into her leftovers harder than she realised, an abrasive action only taken note of by Barbara beside her. The woman daren’t say anything, not whilst fiery eyes stared your way with her jaw clenching tightly at each bite of her lunch. 

She couldn’t bring herself to look away despite the way her skin felt hot with jealousy; she wasn’t the least bit surprised though. It’d be more surprising if the new substitute teacher hadn’t noticed all your charms, all of the things she adored. 

But you weren’t hers, she doubts you ever would be. And she made peace with that; she's older than you, and you only see her as a friend, but now, with this infringement on her unclaimed territory, it’s all become too real. You really are just free for anybody to set their sights on and she abhors it. 

“Damn, you’re lookin’ at the sub like I look at Janine,” Ava spoke as she walked through the door to the breakroom, instantly following the redhead’s gaze. “I’m talking about that time you wouldn’t come with me to the daddy-daughter-day at the zoo. Lotta single dads for widowed Ava,” she finished with a roll of her eyes.

“I’m not lookin’ at nobody,” she muttered in return, peeling her eyes away from the hand that had landed on your arm in favour of aimlessly scrolling through her phone. 

“Melissa,” Barbara sighed. “This has got to stop. The poor boy’s gonna have a heart attack with the way you’ve been looking at him. It’s clear there are some feelings - we all see it - but dealing with them through resentment is not going to solve them.”

You weren’t aware of the conversation happening on the other side of the room, instead, your attention was on the man in front of you. It had been pleasant to have a fresh face in the school and though the company didn’t compare to the table you usually shared with Barbara and Melissa, he seemed likable enough and you didn’t want him to feel out of place. 

You didn’t think much of it when his touch lingered on your arm, nor when he shifted nearer to you on the sofa as you spoke. It barely crossed your mind. It never did. How could it when your affections lay elsewhere? Albeit somewhere unattainable. The amount of people who approach you in bars on nights out with Ava, the drunken kisses you might share with strangers, doesn’t matter when you only wish they were somebody else. 

Though you have been thinking that perhaps it’s best to move on.

The conversation had turned to hushed whispers and steadfast denials from Melissa. Of course, Janine and Jacob had joined the gossiping table and so the four of them adamantly tried to reassure Melissa of her insecurities. She’s not ‘too old’, it’s not ‘too late to start something with anybody’, and someone like you is not too good for ‘someone like her’. 

Though she never directly spoke the words, it was clear to them all that she held a place for you in her heart and there seemed to be a flicker of hope when her lips pulled into a soft smile against her will at just the sound of your laugh. 

But then, of course, something had to spoil it. The quiet of the room made it all too easy to hear when the question was posed, an invitation to dinner from that substitute teacher who, quite frankly, was now disliked by everybody on Melissa’s behalf. There seemed to be a chorus of hitched breaths at the waiting of your response but she couldn’t bear to hear it, instead choosing to head directly to her classroom without looking back. 

Safe to say, the rest of her day was filled with a tension she’d not experienced before. A mix of anger and jealousy, shame and complete sadness. She hadn’t realised how much she longed for you, she supposes it had never come into question. She’d never had to see you with anybody else to let the weight of reality sit on her shoulders - she’d rather enjoyed living in this ignorant bliss.

She made sure to avoid you on her way out to her car, making a pitstop for a bottle of her favourite wine on her way home. Though something didn’t feel right in the back of her mind. She let herself drive on autopilot, deep in thought for what could have been hours, giving in to the potentially reckless voice nagging at her. 

She couldn’t let herself overthink the steering of the wheel, the clicking of her indicators turning right and the silencing of the hum of her engine when she parked her car outside of your house. She knew she wouldn’t go through with it if she didn’t just walk up to your front door and knock. But even when she was looking into your eyes she almost dared to turn back around. 

“Mel? What are you- are you okay?” you spoke, shocked to see her on your doorstep with her hands in her jacket pockets and her eyes looking nervously into yours. You had never seen her nervous before.

“I’m fine,” she nodded. “Actually no. I’m not,” she sighed.

“Well, why don’t you come in and we can talk?”

“No,” she answered quickly, adamantly, with a shake of her head. “I gotta just come out with it and say it and be ready to run if it all goes to shit,” she explained, almost folding right there and then at the huff of a laugh you let out. “Don’t go out with him.”

She mentally kicked herself at the words that came out of her mouth; the rehearsed speech was completely erased from her brain and all she could remember was the way she wanted to punch his smug little face. She wanted you to know how she felt and instead, she’d let the envy win. 

“Who?”

“That fuckin’ guy. Steve or John or something,” she huffed. “I’m not good at all this mushy love crap, I’m good at being jealous and being mad and wanting what is rightfully mine. And listen, maybe I’m outta line here - and if I am you’ve gotta tell me - but, I can’t stop thinking about you. Ever.”

“And that was fine but then seeing him looking at you the way I do, and hearing him ask you out, it just rubbed me the wrong way. And now all I can feel is this itch that I can’t scratch ‘cause I dunno what it is. I’ve never felt like this and I have no clue what to do about it. But what I do know is that if you go out with him, it’ll make me feel like I’m dying.”

“Wow, for someone who doesn’t do mushy crap, you’re pretty dramatic,” you smiled.

“I shoulda known you’d say something like that,” she laughed. “After I poured my soul out to you.”

“It’s one of the things you love about me though, right?”

“Sure. I guess,” she shrugged with a nervous scuff of her boot along the ground. “So what-”

You couldn’t put her through more of that dramatic confession, seeing the apprehension all over her face, you had to kiss her. Finally. It felt as good as you’d hoped, the slick of her lipstick against you and the remnants of a cup of coffee on her tongue. 

“So this is a kiss of reciprocation?” she murmured against you, allowing you to pull her over the threshold of your doorway and kicking it shut behind her.

“Mhm,” you nodded. “And it’s also permission for you to let me know just how jealous you are.”

–

Her kiss began softly, like the portrayal of her feelings she’s kept harboured and hidden for so long were finally being set free against your lips. She quickly lead you backwards, pushing you flush against the wall with an eagerness that sent a shiver through your spine. 

Melissa trailed kisses across your jaw and your neck, grazing her teeth along the skin with the heat of her breath setting your skin on fire. You’d never seen her blush, your eyes softened at the sight.

“Nuh-uh,” she muttered with a smirk. “You’re not gettin’ all puppy-eyed at me right now.”

“And why’s that?” you asked, sneaking your hands beneath her jacket to rest on her waist, watching how her eyes darkened, hardly able to tear them from your lips she so wanted to kiss again. 

“‘Cause I’m still mad at you. That’s why.”

“I didn’t do anything,” you frowned, unable to keep the sigh you let out silent when her hold on you tightened.

“I bet you got me jealous on purpose, huh? Flirtin’ with Pete just to get my attention,” you couldn’t help but laugh at the way she grimaced as she said his name - despite it not being his name. Though you couldn’t say she was totally wrong; whether you thought this was a possibility or not, at the back of your mind it had occurred to you that perhaps she would see. That maybe if she saw others find you desirable, she would too. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she laughed, soon pushing you onto the sofa to climb atop of you, ridding herself of her jacket and you of your shirt. 

Her eyes took you in hungrily, stroking musing hands along the bare skin she could see. She was hesitant at first, to let you undo the buttons of her blouse, but the way you looked up at her with all the sincerity and desperation she too felt made her feel safe. She’d never imagined somebody could look at her the way you did, surveying her exposed body as though it was a treasure you’d been seeking, making goosebumps litter her back with the hands you lay there. 

Melissa was ravenous. Ready to show you that jealousy. In a kiss that left you gasping for breath while quick lips sucked against your collarbone with soothing licks against harsh teeth marks; in the hand she cupped your neck with, thumb pushing onto your throat just to hear the hitch in your breathing. 

Each action made your stomach flip. The way she subconsciously made use of the leg you’d slotted between hers, grinding onto your thigh with small grunts of pleasure at the back of her throat. Everything was so hastened and desperate, clinging to one another as though one of you would disappear if you let go, lips swelling and breathing sounding in the room with the heated kisses. 

You unclasped her bra, discarding it in favour of palming at her breasts, rolling pert nipples between your thumb and finger much to her pleasure. You couldn’t have imagined a more sublime sound than the way she rasped your name when your touch was replaced with your lips, sucking the pillowed flesh, flicking your tongue against her while her touch wandered. 

“Can I touch you, sweet girl?” she breathed, inching her hand lower with her words uttered against your lips. And at the sight of your nod she dipped below the waistband of your underwear, groaning at the wetness she found beneath her fingertips. “Fuck, you’re so wet. This all for me?”

“Yes, Melissa,” you nodded, rolling your eyes slightly in amusement as if it could be for anyone else. 

“Gotta work on that attitude,” she tutted with a look that made you shrink in the best way possible, nails no doubt leaving impressions with how she gripped your neck. She knew you liked it, feeling your soaked cunt clench around the fingers she pushed into you, watching your eyes screw closed at the thumb she pushed over your clit. 

Her digits curled into you with a perfect precision, hitting every spot to hear moans tumble from your lips, encouraging them to be put to good use latched around her nipples. She felt each moan against her and it only egged her on, determined to feel you fall apart. 

Melissa could hear how soaked you were with each thrust into your sopping pussy, and she could see it in the head you threw back onto the cushions, murmurs of her name sounding into the room; your hands grabbed at her, clawing at the soft skin of her back with pink lines decorating the creamy white. 

“C’mon, princess,” she muttered. “I’ve wanted to see you cum for so long.”

Just the sound of her rasped voice pushed you over the edge, arching your body into hers as the feelings washed over you and your heart pounded from the pleasure. You returned her kiss as best you could through your breaths, leaning into the hand she pressed against your heated cheek. 

Her desire had only multiplied, pushing her clothed pussy over your thigh, guided by the hands you held her hips with; silently pleading to rid her of her trousers with a tug to her belt loops. It was only then that she broke the kiss, baring her entire body to your view, taking her place on her back with you between her legs. 

Her cunt glistened with the slick arousal brought on by the past few minutes. You created pathways with your kisses, leaving marks of your presence behind between her breasts, sinking your teeth into the softness of her belly and inner thighs.

“Don’t fucking tease,” Melissa uttered through gritted teeth, pushing your head to where she needed it most, lifting up into your mouth when you latched your lips around her aching clit, licking through her folds with her taste on your tongue. 

Her thighs threatened to clamp around your head so you pried them apart with the pillowy flesh beneath your palms, lapping at her cunt while she moaned above you, one hand in your hair and the other toying with her sensitive nipples. To know that the glorious sound at the back of her throat was from your tongue dipping into her made you that much more eager to please, feeling her clench around you. 

“God, honey,” she moaned. “You’re so good. So close,” she panted out, pulling your head away to dig her fingertips into your jaw, biting her lip at the sight of her arousal on your chin. “I want you to look at me,”

It was just as pleasurable for you as it was for her, her eyes fixed on you from beneath you, hips moving in time with the fingers you buried into her cunt with the heel of your palm brushing over her clit. 

Feeling her warmth around your digits was an even hotter feeling of intimacy than you could have thought, fucking her with your hand to watch her mouth fall open with a grunt. With just a few more pumps of your fingers, she came with a sigh, keeping her eyes focused on yours dominantly before pulling you back into a heated kiss, humming at the remnants of herself on your tongue. 

“Bet you’re glad you said all that mushy crap now, huh?” you smiled teasingly against her. 

“Oh, shush,” she laughed, cupping your face with her thumb musingly swiping over your bottom lip. “Now take me to your bedroom, ‘cause I’m not done with you.”

[topazy]

Teen spirit

Pairing: Carl Grimes × reader, Maggie Greene × sister reader

Warnings: Swearing, violence

Chapter: 6.06

Groaning, you start sitting up by yourself but struggle, feeling an ache in your side. As soon as Glenn sees you’re awake, he is immediately by your side, helping you sit up and adding an extra pillow behind you. On the other side of the bed, you notice Carl sleeping in a chair; he looks exhausted with heavy dark circles underneath his eyes.

“How are you feeling?” Glenn asks.

“Like I’ve been stabbed.”

He shakes his head and smiles, “You had us worried; Maggie will be so relieved you’re awake. She’s gone home to change her clothes.”

Your community didn’t have a real hospital, so the doctors used one of the homes as a makeshift medical facility. It felt strange laying in one of the beds; the last person who slept in the one you were in was Carl when he lost his eye.

Quietly you ask, “Where’s Eugene?”

“The bullet only grazed him; he’s fine.”

“That’s good.” Sighing, you lean back into the pillow, “Did they bring Denise back?”

Glenn looks down at his feet, “Not at first, but Daryl and Rosita went back and got her. They brought her home.”

Tears of relief roll down your cheeks; the fear of her body being left outside for the elements, walkers, or animals to destroy was in the back of your mind. “Good. Those men... they came out of nowhere,” you muffle a sob with the back of your hand. “How bad is it?”

“The knife missed anything major, thank God. Carol was able to stitch up the wound, but you will have one hell of a scar.”

“It will be some story to tell my future niece or nephew.”

Glenn kisses your forehead. “I’m going to let Maggie know you’re awake.”

Once Glenn leaves, your eyes start to close over; despite just waking up, you were still exhausted. You hear the sound of a chair moving, then feel a warm hand against your own. Feeling yourself start to fall asleep, you link your fingers with Carl’s.

—

Carl was pissed, and you couldn’t blame him. His dad and Morgan had left Alexandria to go find Carol, who had decided to leave without saying goodbye to anyone in person. Daryl had left to look for Dwight and his men, and Glenn, Michonne, and Rosita had gone after him. Seven of the best fighters in your group had left base, leaving only Maggie, Abraham, Sasha, and Carl to defend your community if someone attacked.

Biting down on your lip, you sit down on Carl’s bed. He had moved the bed next to the window since the view looked out into the woods.

“I went to the armory and got you a few things.”

He places a black holdall on the floor, and your eyes widen when he zips the bag open. “Oh lord, those are more than a few things,” you say quietly. “It won’t take Aaron long to notice they are gone.”

“Then I’ll just tell him the truth; I took them.”

He pulls a flare out the bag and sits it on the window ledge. “If you see anything, use this, and I’ll come right back. I promise.”

“Thanks.”

“Y/N, it's okay to be afraid after what happened.”

“I'm not afraid,” you say defensively.

So much weight was landing on Carl’s shoulders; it wasn’t fair. Every kid had been forced to grow up too quickly since the world went to hell, but the burdens that fell on Carl always seemed to be extremely unfair.

“I just wish I could help more.”

“Keeping an eye out for those assholes is helpful.”

“Suppose,” you pick up the binoculars and look outside. “I can’t even pick Judith up; I’m just worried I’m going to be useless if they attack.”

“You won’t be,” Carl leans down and kisses you. “I’m gonna go get Judith from Olivia; I’ll be back soon.”

—

Maggie leans against the doorframe in the kitchen; her tone reminds you of the one your mom would use whenever she was frustrated. “You should be resting in bed.”

“I’m not doing anything strenuous; I’m just making lunch.”

“For how many people?”

Your shrug, “Whoever is hungry, I was falling asleep sitting by the window, and everyone needs to eat at some point.”

Sitting around was making you feel guilty; you just wanted to help. The sandwiches and plate of carrot sticks on offer were nothing in comparison compared to the meals Carol could make.

Maggie leans her arms against the counter. “How are you feeling anyway?”

“My side feels tight where the stitches are, but it should be me fussing over you. You look exhausted.”

“Thanks,” she snorts.

“You need to rest, Maggie, even for a couple of hours.”

“No can do. We are short of bodies as it is. We need all hands on deck.”

Enid knocks on the doorframe lightly and steps into the room. “I didn’t mean to listen in, but I can cover Maggie’s shift for a few hours.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Maggie raises her brows, “Who’s in charge here?”

“You need to rest.”

“I really don’t mind,” Enid says. “You should be putting your feet up and eating ice cream or whatever else you’re craving.”

“It’s sorted then.”

“Fine,” Maggie raises her hands in defeat before laughing and taking one of the sandwiches, “but only because the two of you are ganging up on me.”

—

“I could see myself living by the seaside.” Carl runs his fingers through your hair. “There would always be a good supply of food like fish, crabs, and frogs.”

“Frogs?” You chuckle, “I don’t imagine they would be easy to catch.”

The look on his face is solemn. “One person needs to go into the water and splash around, and the other catches them in a bucket when they try to get away.”

Rick returned not long ago, and you had hoped Carl would be less stressed, but he still seems upset, and you didn’t want to push him to talk until he was ready.

“I’d love to live on a farm again one day.”

Carl rests his head against your shoulder. The two of you were sitting in the living room while Enid cut your sister's hair. Enid had taken the ends off your hair already, and you were just waiting to clean up once she was done. It’s only when you look at the length Carl’s hair has got that you remember him saying the only person he let cut his hair was his mom.

Hearing a groaning sound coming from the kitchen, you jolt up, “Maggie? Maggie!”

When you don’t get a response, Carl rushes into the kitchen, with you close behind him. Enid is in shock watching as Maggie doubles over in pain, clutching at her stomach.

The baby.

“Oh my god, what happened?”

Frightens, Enid shakes her head. “I don’t know, she was fine one minute, and then the pain came out of nowhere.”

When Carl helps Maggie stand up, you go to the opposite side of her.

“Enid, go get Rick! We need to take Maggie to the doctor in Hilltop.”

[bitchinbarzal]

the other woman | mat & mama

you’d had the best weekend with the kids and mat. It was nice to get away from being “doc” to just being a mom and wife.

you were on day two, standing at the end of the carpet waiting for mat to finish his interviews while wyatt slept soundly on your shoulder.

he finally made it to you, taking wyatt from you to give your arms a break.

the kids were all on a sugar high, antsy and looking around for the next thing to do. Bailey had run off, not wearing his cochlear so you chased after him, bringing him back to the family giggling.

Your spot now taken by a woman you didn’t recognise. Before you could introduce yourself you heard her say

“Oh she’s gotten so big! I remember when you were just a baby” a tickling a now wide awake Wyatt’s belly.

You frowned “and how do you know Wyatt?” You asked, taking the baby from her dad.

Mat and the woman looked at one another, Mathew considerably nervous looking “We um-“

“Molly used to come to daddy’s house!” Ryder, ever the one to throw dad under the bus. Mathew closed his eyes and sighed.

“Yeah this is Molly.. she’s a reporter for the league we went out once or twice last year” Mathew explains while Molly stands looking uncomfortable.

You smile “Well it was nice to meet you Molly”

“Likewise…” she trails “I’m gonna go” and takes off into the crowd to interview someone else.

You look at Mat who has those puppy dog eyes “Babe…”

“C’mon guys let’s go see the mascot’s! Uncle Jack told me they’re playing musical chairs” you exclaim, plastering on a fake smile to distract the kids from the obvious tension.

Before you could walk very far Mathew grabbed your waist “Hey! Don’t walk away-“

“You slept with her, didn’t you?” You ask, tears lining your eyes.

Mat couldn’t lie, not to you “Yes… we were separated though!”

“So all that shit about wanting to work on our marriage, how I was your only girl… that was all a lie? You just can’t seem to keep your hands off girls at your work”

“Hey, that’s not fair!”

“No Mathew what isn’t fair is you never telling me that! That I was at home worrying about my job, our kids and our marriage while you were out finding them a new mom?!”

He looks hurt “It wasn’t like that! Lets not forget you drafted the divorce papers”

And one last stab at his heart

“And I wish I hadn’t thrown them out now”

[queenpiranhadon]

A/N: Bahaha guess what guys I lied, this is gonna be nine chapters total lollll- I promise last time 😭 BIGGEST SHOUT OUT EVER TO @cashmoneyyysstuff for beta reading and being a huge influence on the story - girl's literally my idol go follow her 🤍 Here's the masterlist!

Warning(s): Cursing, reader is the daughter of Aizawa, Shinso and Eri are biological siblings, reader is 20 years old, Reader uses "Cattus" as her alias, reader's nicknames are Cactus, Cattus and Cat, war, reader gets hurt and burned alive (a lot), reader almost dies again, gore and blood, bad war descriptions lol what do you expect from me, reader is AFAB and female, ANGST, someone breaks into reader's house, Eri sleeps with reader bc she's traumatized, PTSD,

Pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴ: Warrior

How did the enemy know you were planning to ambush them? 

Your entire life, you always believed Fate would either provide you answers, or spur on more questions. 

Right now, you thought, it seemed to give you both. 

It was late at night when you woke up, heart pounding from some nightmare of which the details of seemed fuzzy now. It was silent, but instead of ambience, the lack of sound seemed eerie to you.  

You weren’t a stranger to this happening, random panic attacks and nightmares caused by underlying trauma that you refused to come to terms with.  

You tighten your arms around your younger sister, asleep, the girl insisted she sleep with you from now on in fear that you would leave again (though she didn’t want to admit that she just heavily missed your presence). You didn’t mind, and to be honest, your usual nightmares had been decreasing after the comfort of another human being by your side.  

Laying back down slowly, you brush off your paranoia, heart pounding and you feel the hairs along your skin rise along with a multitude of gooseflesh.  

Something wasn’t right.  

Siting up slowly, you rouse your sister to consciousness, sleepy red eyes blinking back at you in confusion. 

“Y/N...” Eri mumbled, disoriented, but you silence her.  

“Banana, go get Toshi and stay in Dad’s room.” You say, your tone low and firm.  

Her eyes widen in fear, but she nods, scurrying out of the room as quickly as she can.  

You sigh, your family would be safe if you could get rid of the nagging thought in the back of your mind.  

Creeping towards the door, you stop. You rub your abdomen, where the scar from your last battle resided. Tonight, you knew someone was about to get hurt. 

Suddenly, a loud crash reverberates through your home and the wooden door splinters from impact. 

Your eyes widen as a figure clad in black smashes into your home, two daggers unsheathed as he creeps towards you slowly and menacingly.  

The Inimicus insignia flashes in the moonlight and your heart sinks.  

They found you.

You curse under your breath, months to years of training now springing into action purely based on instinct, rolling out of the assailant’s attempt at stabbing you and using the opportunity to grab your sword that was hidden under the sofa. 

Just in case. 

Your family worried about you- saying that you were being too paranoid, your father the most worried of them all considering he felt the same pain you did. But he understood you needed an outlet for your anxieties- just as he released his, you learned, through training you when you were younger. 

He figured that if hiding weapons around the house would ease you a little bit, then it would be beneficial to have your worries about being attacked put at ease. 

Before - prior to any of this - you would’ve relished being right, the satisfaction of an ‘i told you so’

But oh, but you wished you were wrong right now.

You feel your body relax in the slightest when you hear the soft click the the back door closing- your family was at least out of the house. If there were even more assailants outside, your father could handle them alongside Hitoshi. 

But you couldn’t let your guard down, unsheathing your sword from its scabbard and adjusting your footing to maintain a low crouch. During your time training and fighting, you learned to develop your fighting style - yours in particular was more unorthodox compared to the usual ones your peers took on. Most soldiers preferred attacking the higher points of the body, maybe attempting decapitation or a fatal respiratory injury as a way to take down an opponent. 

You on the other hand, stuck closer to the ground, as to you, when it came to combat, balance was the most important. If you maintain yours, while depriving your opponent of their own, you would have a tremendous advantage as you have a clear opening to immobilize instead of eradicate. 

However, this was a different circumstance. 

This man had not only broken into your home, but posed a threat to your family. And for that, you knew your tactics would have you change up a little bit. 

You had most definitely improved after your tualia with Bakugou, and even after your first and upsettingly last battle as well having decided to train yourself under your father’s supervision the months after you came home. 

Your crouch turns from defensive to offensive, adjusting your stance and pushing off of the ground hooking your arm to the leg opposite of it and swinging it out to bring your elbow straight into his legs, forcing him to fall down as you pin them down with just your arm. 

Working quickly, your leg swings out to step on his abdomen, drawing your sword and placing the tip right next to his artery, under his ear. 

“How many of you are there?” you ask coldly, rage flowing through your veins as you press your sword deeper into his neck when he refuses to respond. 

Small beads of blood gather on the tip of your sword and your opponent panics, slowing bringing his hands up to show he means no harm, and removes his mask to reveal a shock of blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes.

You deadpan. What was it with blonde boys in your life?

“P-Please don’t kill me..!” he whimpers, tears pouring down his face (a very punchable face, for the record).

Already? You barely scratched him, you think to yourself, slightly disappointed that it was this easy.

“How. many. of. you. are. there.” you say, lowly, enunciating your words as if it could hammer the meaning into this idiot’s brain. 

“F-Forty s-seven.” he sobs, and your eyes widen.

Your heart sinks. Forty seven men?! Your village didn’t even have the numbers for that many soldiers… how were you going to get everyone out of this alive. 

“Look…” you trail off, realizing you didn’t know the man’s name. 

Then again did you really want to? Knowing his name made him seem more humane, more…like you. Suddenly, the man underneath your feet turning into the man you killed in the Chiara Forest, your heart rate spiking and overwhelming guilt clawing at your brain. 

Shit.

 Your opponent doesn’t know your panic though, and shudders underneath you, starting to mumble out his name. 

“I’m Aoy-” he starts, but you cut him off, something snapping inside of you. 

“Just stop. Here’s what’s going to happen. I am going to tie you up and leave you in the well. You are going to call for help. I need you to scream.” You growl, the look in your eyes deadly, hinting as to what would happen if he didn’t follow your directions. 

However, the man nods vigorously, and you do exactly what you told him, using some tough rope you found in the shed to bind his wrists and feet together once positioning his limbs in a way that would be painful if he tried to adjust or move them, using a cloth to gag him temporarily for the journey to the well outside of the Kirishima’s home. 

How ironic is it, that this all started from that same well, and now it could all end there too?

You heft the man into your back, the size difference unconcerning to you given that you were strong, and he weighed absolutely nothing. How did this shrimp even manage to be eligible for the military in the first place?

 You hear a crash outside, flinching and realizing that you probably weren’t the only one fighting these Inimican spies. And you most definitely were the only one with enough fighting experience in this village. 

You had to work fast.

Deciding to leave your home through the backdoor, you slip out quietly, breathing in relief when you don’t see any black clad assailants there waiting to ambush you. 

Making your way to the Kirishima’s along a secluded path you knew by heart, you make your way to the well, wrapping your fingers around the rope and tugging it experimentally to see if it would support the blonde man’s weight. It seemed sturdy enough and so you hefted his figure onto the side of the well, making sure he held onto the rope tightly enough, and you removed the cloth covering his mouth. 

You don’t give him a chance to say anything, holding the front of his shirt with a relentless grip as you stare at him in his eyes, wide with fear. 

“If you don’t do what you’re told, I’ll end you here and now.” you whisper, no malice in your tone, and yet that makes the words even more chilling. 

The man nods frantically, releasing him and watching him descend down the well at a rapid pace, hearing a thud and a crunch one he makes it to the bottom, making you wince a little bi.t At least he wasn’t dead, the echoing cry he let out when he reached the floor was a dead giveaway. 

You hear him start screaming, his voice strained and raspy from the amount of sobbing he’d done, and the echoes of the well amplify the pitiful sound, the desperation definitely evident.

Doing all of this felt wrong, but honestly, you didn’t really care at the moment. Your village was in danger. 

You heard some footsteps approaching in the distance, putting your plan in action and slipping into the shadows of the Kirishima home. 

“Aoyama!” a deep male voice calls out. “Is that you?” 

From where you were, you could see a shock of white hair and electric blue eyes. And his face… it was mottled almost, littered with so many scars the lower half of his face looked purple.

“L-Lieutenant Dabi! D-Down here!” the man who you realize is called Aoyama croaks out, ruining your wish for the blonde to remain anonymous, but that didn’t deter you.

You had a mission.

Hearing three more pairs of footsteps, you see three figures to match, including a man with skin so oily it looked like verdant scales, a blonde man with haunted blue eyes, and a wild haired brunette with amber eyes. 

“Wait-  is he in the well?” the blonde snickers, only for his amused expression to be taken over by a stricken expression of grief. “Oh shit, is he okay?!”

It was an odd display of events, but you chose not to comment on it as the one called Dabi commanded his men.

“Shuichi, use your sword to cut the rope- then if we dangle it low enough we can pull him out.” the white haired man says, the oily skinned man nodding in assent and drawing his sword out of its sheath. 

You remembered during your time in the military about the weapons the Inimicans preferred, the most common being that of a katana. You, on the other hand, used something else. The Belloran army had a tendency to use weapons with more power, valuing strength over speed, something you picked up on once seeing the heavier swords in their arsenal, and of course, your fight with Bakugou.

But when you trained, you trained for speed, choosing to fight with dual swords instead. Dual swords, you learned, paired with your fighting style, allowed you to become the best of both worlds, both refined and strategic which aligned with Inimican fight styles which still being able to channel heavy amounts of strength and power into every strike, making you a formidable opponent for both Inimcans and Bellorans alike. 

The one called Shuichi approached the well, cutting the rope and making sure Aoyama was securely holding on before he started hoisting it. 

Now was your chance. Over the past few months of training, your father recommended carrying metal stars with sharp serrated edges. He said it would help practice your aim as well as your concentration as to where you enforced your strength. Ever since then you started to train with them, and they were always on your person or in a place easily accessed no matter where you were.

Thank the gods for that, you think, taking one of the stars from the folds of your clothes, and holding it in between your index and middle finger. 

You take a deep breath, angling the star ever so slightly and positioning it. And then…

Release.

The star slices through the air like it’s nothing, pure strength over powering wind resistance as it slices through the rope of the well in twine. 

You hear Aoyama’s agonized screams as he falls again, shallow breaths echoing and reverberating through the well, hauntingly.

But you can’t let the horror overtake you, knowing that in the midst of battle, feelings are to be processed later. Even so, you can’t help but wonder if this is what Katsuki meant- true strength of a warrior meant coming to terms with the conflicts outside of you but inside as well. 

Stop it, you chide yourself, taking advantage of the group’s momentary distraction and running quickly, tackling the closest man next to you, the one with amber eyes. 

Your dual swords each target vital areas of the man’s body, your forearm tightening around his neck as one sword is grazing his artery on his neck and the over ever so slightly hovers over his abdomen, ready to plunge into his torso. 

It’s a threat. And one that they know you’re capable of, given by the steely glint in your eye.

Two of the men spring to action, forgetting about Aoyama, the one called Shuichi drawing his blade and the blond getting into a fighting stance, as the brunette lays deathly still in your arms, one wrong move and he’s dead. 

However, the first man, Dabi, seems unfazed. He gives you a lazy smirk, and waves his hand nonchalantly. 

“At ease, you two. I don’t feel like killing her just yet…” he drawls, brimming with overconfidence. “She reminds me of a little poppy, no? A pretty flower of death. And yet so easily crushed the moment a boot iss brought down upon it.”

You feel rage boil up inside you. How pompous is this asshole to think he could defeat you so easily?!

Then again, you thought about your fight with Bakugou. You were by no means weak, and you reassured yourself that. But even so, Bakugou managed to win. Would you lose against Dabi too?

And this time…you wouldn’t be spared as you would in a tualia. This is war. 

“Let me strike you a deal, poppy.” he says, stepping closer. “Let’s battle it out, me against you. My men won’t interfere. If you win, I will escort my troops out of your village.”

“If I win,” his grin turns deadly. “Well let’s hope that doesn’t happen, huh poppy?”

You narrow your eyes, tightening your grip on your swords. You could almost smell the power radiating off of this man, but you knew that if you didn’t take his offer, your village wouldn't stand a chance.

You exhale slowly, glaring at the cocky man in front of you. 

“Deal.”

***

Maybe, you realized, his overconfidence was earned. 

You weren’t a stranger to fighting losing battles. From your tualia with Bakugou to dumb arguments with your siblings, you always kept going, even though the outcome was going to be the same. 

In front of you, stood Dabi, the man in question had waved his men away to scout the village for more rope to rescue Aoyama with. 

And in the Lieutenants hand, there was a sphere. 

Magic, in your world, was a rare commodity - and even rarer was one who could manage to wield it. Common forms of magic called yose were sold in the richer markets, and if you could find them, they were used more like a collectors item, a mark of status if you had one, which showed just how rare it was in the first place. Most, when attempting to use magic, had their physical forms decay from the inside because their mortal forms couldn’t handle power used by celestial beings.

However, there was a gene that resided in a total of nine families in the world, (one for each god) who was blessed to be able to wield said power.

And you had the misfortune to encounter one of them.

The sphere in Dabi’s hand was bright blue, and yet it didn’t resemble that of water or ice, instead the sphere consisted solely of cerulean flames - you could feel the temperature drop as soon as it materialized. 

When you were young, Chiyo told you stories about each of the families, each of high status and a standing in any family was extremely coveted globally. 

Fire… Dabi was a Todoroki. 

Shit.

You were, inadvertently, fucked. 

“This is what it’s like to play with fire, poppy.” he grins, a manic look taking over his face. 

You grimace, lowering yourself into a fighting stance.

This was going to hurt. 

With a yell, you charge at Dabi’s unmoving form, your feet moving you, faster, quicker, allowing you to flow with the wind. 

Horror washes over you as flames engulf his hand, and then his arms, blue flames licking his skin but he doesn’t show any sign of being in pain.

You desperately slash at his neck and chest, bringing your arms to form an X before slashing outwards. But your blades do nothing, as Dabi mimics the same X and thrusts his arms forwards, shooting flames out in every direction. 

“Ah fuck!” you grit, tears pricking your eyes as flames burn through your flame, creating scalding burns in their wake.

Your swords clatter to the ground, your hands in so much pain you couldn’t feel them. Where the fuck did he find magic so powerful?! No market sold enough yose to generate enough power like that…

“Aw, down already?” Dabi pouts, “I thought you’d burn a little slower.”

You muster up the iciest glare you could. “F-Fuck you, you damn sadist.” You spit, venom dripping from your tone. 

Dabi only smiles. “C’mon poppy, that’s no way to talk. We’re having so much fun, afterall.”

You wanted to kill him. 

Your whole body protested, screaming in pain, bloodied fingers, grasping the hilt of your nearby sword.

You run at him again, flames again searing your skin, but you keep running, pain now shooting up your leg as you lunge at Dabi, an amused expression on his face as you keep running, plunging your sword into his shoulder.

This clearly takes him by surprise, wondering where your spontaneous bout of strength came from as blood drips down his torso, a bright red that was accentuated from the coming sunrise, rosy rays peaking out of the horizon. 

Dabi’s smirk goes away, replaced with an impassive expression as he wraps his hand around your neck, squeezing slightly as he pulls the sword out of his shoulder with his other hand.

Suddenly, the world spins, lack of blood, oxygen, mixed with overwhelming pain and fatigue made it hard to keep your eyes open. 

Shit!

The panic sets it, fuck were you going to die, actually die?!

The last thing you smell is the scent of melting flesh waft into the air as everything goes black.

The last this you see are those sickening electric blue eyes, and wide bloodied grin.

The last thing you hear is Ejiro’s voice yelling “Y/N?!”

Wait.

Ejiro?!

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[mydeerfellow]

The Rubber Ball Of Uncontrollable Honesty

“I honestly wouldn’t fuck anyone in the room besides you! And maybe him!” Angel pointed at Husk, then Alastor.

“Really?” Both of them said at the same time, looking speculative and mortified in turn.

“And Vaggie but only if she had a strap—”

---

“Fuck you especially.”

The room was overwhelmingly, awkwardly silent as everyone collectively looked up from the bags of Lucifer’s old shit they’d come across in one of the storage rooms in the basement. Alastor was the last to look up, and seemed shocked that he had even said anything.

“Uh… thanks?” Angel blinked, taken aback by the sudden hostility.

Alastor laughed nervously. “What? No! No, I just think you’re very strange and you make me incredibly uncomfortable! AHA! What the fuck?” He flailed and dropped the small rubber ball he had been messing with.

“Wow, that was… really, really honest, Alastor!” Charlie applauded awkwardly. “Um… I mean, maybe a little… abrupt…” She looked at Angel, who seemed torn between amusement and genuine surprise. “But! But, at least you were open, and… and you—”

“An’ he didn’t mean to say any of that shit. What the hell’s this thing, anyway?” Husk cut her off and stalked forward, eyeing the rubber ball on the floor. “You still feelin’ honest there, boss?” He looked at Alastor, who immediately pivoted to look away, but not before speaking: “Yooouuu— have enormous eyebrows!”

“You wanna fork it over now, or are we gonna wait for you to drop a bombshell?” Husk held out a hand, one brow raised, and for a moment it looked like Alastor might haul back and punch him. Then, he picked up the ball and put it squarely into Husk’s palm. “Ha ha! Now the curse is passed to you!”

“What kinda bullshit Curse Of The Mummy bullshit are you on right now? You can’t just pass it along to the next poor schmuck who tries to help! You know what? Fuck you. Figure it out your own fucking— ah well, shit.” Husk threw the ball at Angel, who caught it with a bit of a fumble.

“I honestly wouldn’t fuck anyone in the room besides you! And maybe him!” Angel pointed at Husk, then Alastor.

“Really?” Both of them said at the same time, looking speculative and mortified in turn.

“And Vaggie but only if she had a strap—”

“Gimme that, you dick.” Vaggie used a broom handle to knock the ball out of Angel’s hands and it rolled over to Niffty’s feet, who immediately held it above her head with a screech.

“Yes, dear?” Alastor patted her head as she wheezed excitedly.

“I would marry a bug if I could, just so I could stab him to death in his sleep and steal his money!”

The silence was overwhelming, and even Alastor looked somewhat put off by her… honesty. “Okay. That’s very disturbing and I think you could use some professional help.” He said at last. “Oh dear, it’s still working.”

“I got committment issues, so I’m never gonna actually fuck you.” Husk let Angel know, who nodded sagely. “That guy really fucked up my whole everything, honestly.” He pointed at Alastor, who raised his hands innocently.

“That’s okay, sex is more of a job anyway, let’s be real.”

“I wish I could stab a bad boy right now.” Niffty yelled.

“You know what, Niff? We’re gonna just… put a pin in that, okay?” Charlie laughed nervously and snatched the ball before anyone else could accidentally pick it up. “Sooo, anyway… I thought my mom got rid of this a long time ago. See, I had this kinda little lying issue when I was really little, so Dad made this!” She held it up and squinted at it. “It just makes you kinda wanna tell the truth. Or it used to, anyway. I think the spell got a little wonky, ‘cause I never… did what you guys are doing.” She looked over at Alastor and Husk, who were giving detailed descriptions of everything they didn’t like about each other while Angel offered background commentary on their personality flaws.

“If I had my time back I’d have drowned you in a washing machine when I had the chance!” Alastor said sweetly. “In fact, the only reason I don’t do that is because the dear, sweet child who runs this hotel would almost certainly be upset if I redecorated her foyer with—”

“That’s a fucking riot comin’ from a man who bends over backwards every time his floozy fuckin’ friend barks up your tree wantin’ a favor for dick-all!”

“At least I have a friend~”

“I got plenty of those, pal!”

Alastor pursed his lips, giving Angel a window of opportunity to jump in. “Aw, come on, maybe now’s not the time, huh? What’s the fun of a bitch fight when everybody’s gotta be stone-cold honest?” He held up his hands and smiled nervously, sidling between Alastor and Husk. “Nobody’s gonna come out on top, amirite? Come on, Charlie.” He waved at her behind his back and she jumped in valiantly.

“I think… we’re all probably going to say things we don’t really mean.”

“It’s a truth… ball… thing! Ain’t the point to be honest?” Husk spat, even as he backed off.

Charlie himmed and hawwed for a second. “Not really. Honesty’s kind of… hard. I don’t think it’s wrong to have a little bit of a… a… Vaggie, help. What am I saying?”

“Honesty’s got a lot of shades of gray. This shit just tries to make it black and white. I’m glad your Mom tossed it in here.” Vaggie covered Charlie’s hands, and the ball, with her own. “I think it’s probably better to just destroy it for good, though. Don’t you?”

The full body relaxation that Vaggie caused in Charlie was probably something that could be marketed and sold for a small fortune, just based on the broad smile on her face. Between their hands, the ball crumbled into dust.

“Well, I, for one, would fuck you any day of the week, and twice on Sunday!” Alastor exclaimed loudly, gesturing at Angel with both hands, who looked like he was seeing the sunrise for the first time. “Oh good, it worked!” He added after a pause, laughing uproariously at his own joke as he walked up the stairs. “I’ve got to go wash my brain with bleach, thank you all for this horrible experience!”

“What about once on Sunday?!” Angel yelled up after him, cackling when he was flipped off with both hands as the door slammed shut. “Ah, I’m wearing ‘em down. Just you wait.”

Husk shuddered and mock-gagged. “Maybe you should just stay down here an’ think about why you’re the way you are.” He patted Angel on the shoulder as he brushed past, following Alastor upstairs. “Niffty, don’t lick the dirt. You don’t know where’s it’s been.” He added, as Niffty was currently attempting to suction the truth ball dust off the unfinished floor.

“Cool, that’s my cue to skedaddle. C’mon, basket case, let’s go wash yer tongue before it falls off.” Angel picked up Niffty by the back of the shirt and tossed her up the stairs and into Husk’s arms like a football. “You two comin’ or what? Lezbehonest, this ain’t the most romantic setting, but you do you, babes.”

“Did you just— we’re holding hands, Angel!”

“Hey, whatever tickles yer pickle.” He swung the door shut behind him, and turned off the light for good measure, plunging them into darkness while they both yelled after him and scrambled blindly for the stairs.

[immadatdisney2]

Whumptober Day Two: You try and backstab me?! (I'll just have to stab you first)

Varian had had all sorts of crazy dreams over the years.

From fever dreams to crazy nightmares- oh, and that one time where the creepy ghost girl (that just so happened to be a crazy demon of Zahn Tiri) snuck into his dreams and told him the secret for the final incantation and gave him slight phasmophobia. 

But none of these could compare to the dream he’d had last night.

 The room seemed to go on forever in all directions, bookshelves that looked like they were reaching for the heavens and tables covered in beakers, open books and papers with scribbled notes scattered around the room. 

“Where am I?” 

 “Varian!” He turned around and saw a woman standing in the center of the room, (or…maybe he was in a library?) Her fiery red hair was barely contained to the top of her head in a messy bun, her teal dress rumpled like she hadn’t changed in a hot minute… she looked familiar, but from where?

She cupped his cheeks in her hands “Oh my son, you're as beautiful as the day I lost you…” 

Wait, son?!

“I wish I had the time to tell you everything sweetie, but this spell isn’t going to last much longer and I have to warn you of this” she started pacing around the room, snatching books and papers in a frenzy. 

“Wait M-mom, if you could have talked to me- talked to Dad all this time… why did you wait ‘till just now?!”

He followed her, thinking she would stop and look at him for a second (Y’know, considering this was their first time meeting in 18 fucking years!) but she just kept grabbing and tossing random books and papers frantically. 

“I’ve only just harnessed enough power for this, the Library is really doing everything it can to keep me- all of me- trapped in this hell… but that doesn't matter right now” 

“S-so what did you mean, a warning? What are you warning me about?!” She turned to face him, eyes wild and frantic with the jumble of papers slipping from her arms and to the ground “

Hugo isn’t who you think he is. You can’t trust him Varian, don’t let yourself get hurt again” 

He woke up in cold sweat, fear and shock trembling through his bones. 

What the hell was that… Did… did he just meet his mother? Like, for the first time, and was the only thing she bothered to say was “Hi child I haven't seen in almost 20 years, your best friend/ kinda crush isn't who you think he is!” 

Isn’t who you think he is…

Isn’t who you think he is…

Isn’t who you think he is…

The words kept ringing in his ear, embedding themselves into his mind. Did this mean… was Hugo going to betray him? 

No no, that would never happen! Hugo was his friend- his best friend, he wouldn't…

You’ve been betrayed by friends before… who’s to say it couldn’t happen again…

No. This was what happened with Cass, she let herself be manipulated without any actual proof and it all went to shit. His friend wouldn’t do that to him, Hugo wouldn’t do that to him.

Besides, how could he know that was actually a vision of his mom? The weird dream was probably just a side effect of the new sleep tonic he’d taken earlier. 

He was a scientist, and scientists couldn’t make any conclusions without having solid evidence. He was just gonna go back to sleep (AKA go work in the lab until dawn) and move on with his life in the morning, he just needed to ignore it. 

Just ignore it. 

Turns out “just ignoring it” wouldn’t work. The weird dreams, well they weren't just a one time thing. They came almost every night, changing a bit each time with what he and his mom would talk about but always ending with the same terrible terrible sentence “Hugo isn’t who you think he is… he will betray you!” 

And yes, he tried just not sleeping to avoid the dream but he’d either crash and burn the next night from exhaustion (and drain his coffee supply during the day) or Nuru would make sure he went to bed. 

Hugo had also started acting more and more secretive after each trial, he knew he was hiding something. And he didn’t want to believe what it was…

With each new dream and the day they would finally enter the Library creeping closer, it was growing painfully obvious that his mom might be telling the truth. 

He sighed, pushing the thought aside as his head hit the pillow. He had to get some rest for when they opened the gates tomorrow… and after all, why loom over the thought when his dreams would just do it for him. 

The room was messy and slightly dark- like usual- and his mother was sitting his her favorite chair on the far side of the room, next to one of the many crowded bookshelves and a fireplace.

She was looming over a book, reading furiously and constantly pushing back strands of her red hair that had escaped her bun. 

She didn’t seem to notice Varian was here and was just mumbling some gibberish under her breath and she scribbled down notes so he went and gave her a light tap on the shoulder, she flinched but soon smiled when she saw his face.

“Oh Varian! How are you pumpkin?” After many times of doing the spell that let her into his dream, Ulla sometimes couldn’t tell the difference between this and the real world.

 “Hi mom, we finally completed the trails and are opening the gates to the Library tomorrow” Her face lit up and she slammed the book she was writing in closed.

“That’s wonderful!” she held his face in her hand, an action Varian had grown very fond of over their visits. “I can’t wait to finally see you- really, see you- again… and, Hugo?” 

“How many times do I have to tell you Mom! He’s not going to betray me!”

He couldn’t decide whether he was saying that for her to believe it… or for himself…

For her… definitely for her…

She sighed sadly and her eyes said she was pondering what to say next “I really hoped I wouldn't have to show you this… but you’ve left me no choice” 

Before he could ask what his mind started flowing with visions

A young Hugo…stealing for Donella and saluting for her…

Hugo taking the fire totem and handing it over to Donella…

Hugo joined their team once Donella ordered him to…

Hugo, copying each and every one of his notes and hanging them over to Donella 

Hugo sneaking away from camp to report to Donella 

Hugo…

Hugo… 

Hugo…

He awoke in cold sweat… but this time instead of fear, he felt only anger.

How could Hugo do this! This must be why Donella always seemed to know their next move, why she was always to step ahead no matter what Varian did! All because of Hugo…

I told you…

“What do I do now Mom?” 

Get him first! 

A dagger that he didn’t remember leaving on his windowsill gleamed in the moonlight and without thinking, he grabbed it and ran.

Hugo’s room was empty, nothing there but the small sleeping figure of Olivia. 

The woods, go to the woods!

 Running through the dark woods he felt an evil and strange sence of anger surge through him, it didn’t even seem human, he’d never felt anger like this- not even when his father got trapped in the amber. 

But it didn’t matter, all that mattered was revenge… 

He found Hugo leaning on a tree, and his blonde friend traitor jumped when he saw Varian, clearly not expecting anyone else to be there at two in the morning. 

No one but your boss, you lying rat!

 “Goggles, what the hell are you doing out here so late- well more like so early I guess” 

“I could ask you the same thing Beanpole” A nervous look flashed across Hugo’s face but it was quickly masked by his usual casual demeanor. 

“Well I-” 

“Don’t even try and hide it, he- I know everything”

 “He- what are you talking about Var? And what is going on with your eyes?” Varian’s leg flew towards Hugo’s stomach, knocking him to his knees with several choughs.

 “What the fuck!” 

“You’re working for Donella, you were going to betray him!” 

Hugo’s face went white, how did he know… and what was going on with his voice, and his eyes. His eyes seemed to be glowing.

 “My son has been hurt by people like you for far too long… I won’t let Donnie win again”

Donnie? As far as he knew only one person had ever had the guts to call his boss by that name…Varian, who wasn’t acting like Varian, pulled out a dagger and used it to point Hugo’s chin up to face him.

His eyes were definitely glowing with an evil electric blue that were not the eyes Hugo had grown to love…

“It’s a shame though… my pumpkin did really love you, but after this it won’t matter. We’ll be together again, I’ll finally be there to protect him from traitors like you” 

He felt the knife pierce through his scream and a sharp cry ripped through his street. Blood was staining his clothes and pain was radiating through his body. 

He crumpled to the ground begging for Varian to snap out of it, to help him! But his love only grinned evilly and wiped the dagger with his cloth.

 “Oh and if my Donnie finds you still alive, say hi for me, won’t you…”

[dootznbootz]

Which Greek mythology character would you like to see talked about more?

OHoho. you all already know this.

It's Penelope.

And I am being so fucking serious about it. I'm also sleepy and angry and mother nature is stabbing my gut so I'm putting a lot of my emotions into this ask.

BUT her fangirling, angry, bitchy rant of mine, I will save for the end. (and I'll explain it more down there) Not gonna lie, I will probably be mean. Don't take it too personally. (Some folks I know genuinely love her and have stuff for her. Y'all are fine :D )

I have many other characters I wish would be seen more, but hers rant is ooooh. it's been boiling angrily for a long time and this is the perfect ask to let loose.

Take note: This is more about characters who I feel are either underrated and/or not really given love. It's a whole other can of worms about characters who ARE given a lot of attention but are either fandomized to the point of being unrecognizable or people just...really see them wrong.

Ariadne:

A young princess who helped out Theseus to end the cycle of violence against the youth of Athens. Despite the fact that she was going against her family by helping Theseus she did. When he left her, for whatever reason, she was rescued by Dionysus. In which these two have a loving and healthy marriage. There is so much potential here and it makes me sad that she gets butchered and/or just ignored.

Danae:

She was locked up by her father because of a prophecy that happened anyway. She is now pregnant with Zeus' child. She is then locked into a chest in which she is sent floating in the sea. She washes up on Seriphos. Her son is sent on an impossible quest in order to keep her from a forced marriage. Her story is inspiring and ugh sdkf j badass mama! ;~;

Telemachus:

Got that right here :)

Sthenelus:

Fucking love this lil hotheaded cheerleader man. Go boy, go! He got yeeted by Athena from the chariot. Diomedes and him tell each other that they love each other. Tells off Agamemnon for mocking Diomedes' and his dad. He was a child soldier alongside Diomedes. I love this weird lil guy.

Hephaestus:

It makes me sad how people only see him as the "cuck" of Aphrodite and Ares. (no hate to them. do not hate either of them) He's badass in his own right! He does that bigass fire in the Iliad! And one of my favorite scenes in that epic, is him welcoming Thetis! I think he's neat :D

Hebe:

Ganymede isn't the only cupbearer on Olympus you know.

Menelaus:

I love me a goofy wifeman...But if that's all you see him as, I'm sad. What about the sealy man? (aka him wrestling a god for a while and making him tell him answers) The exiled prince? The younger brother? The angry charioteer who yelled at Antilochus? The man who interfered with his brother's letter to his wife to warn to not bring their daughter? Being the sweet uncle figure for Telemachus? (he and Penelope get a lot of the same treatment in a way. with the whole "just the spouse" ;~; )

Psyche:

I think she's pretty popular, but shout out to her anyway :D Because I love her story a lot.

And last but absolutely not least,

Penelope

Heads up once more, but I'm going to be so fucking mean right now. I'm very tired and runnin on 4 hours of sleep and my tummy hurts. This is all over the place and I'm sad.

I think some of you treat the fact that Odysseus is (rightfully) obsessed with her and adores her as if that's HER personality trait... as while it's adorable to see him simping over her as he does, she's not just there for him (and me) to simp for. In the same vein, I think some of y'all only see her for her love of Odysseus and nothing more. Some folks don't see her as anything more than what she is for Odysseus.

AS IF HER HUSBAND ISN'T JUST AS INTERTWINED WITH HER AS SHE IS WITH HIM!

And yet, there is so much stuff with him about the other people in his life. The other Achaeans, Polites and Eurylochus, Athena, etc. You know Penelope has people in her life other than her husband and her son, right?

Even stuff that's just her, it's usually her weaving the shroud...That still ties back to Odysseus. If you wanna have her weave, maybe have her weave something happily. Maybe her chatting with Anticlea or Athena while she does! Or Helen! or her sister!

There's the saying of "the characters respect women but the author does not" and I'm noticing that a LOT in this fandom. I don't think it's intentional, but it's very telling with what people prioritize in their creations how they feel. (and no, I'm not talking about Homer. He wrote incredible women.)

I'm not saying you're not allowed to have favorites. But even if Odysseus IS your favorite, if you have Penelope so one note or with such weak characterization while having so much for Odysseus, FOR THE MEN WHO HE IS NEAR... It's just really telling.

I've even seen some shit with "Well, there's not much to do with her." as if y'all don't make OCs with less. I've seen people give Astyanax, an AU baby, more characterization than her. (Have him alive in your AUs but if you give him more character than Peenlope, I am side-eying you so hard.)

It genuinely pisses me off how overlooked she is. I hate how her tags are basically empty (honestly? I might start tagging my silliness for her correctly because it has so lil.)

Hey, why do followers of the other tags show up but not for #penelope of ithaca? It's clearly because she has SO many followers/fans that she broke tumblr! Especially with the fact that you can scroll all the way to the bottom pretty quickly! /sarcasm

(btw, before you say something, I know there's no consistent tag for Penelope. I follow many of them. #penelope odyssey is kind of the best bet I believe. #penelope of sparta is mostly about that new show that's coming out and hyping about it. still not about HER. #penelope mostly has some bridgerton character. so yeah. Not much on tumblr)

(shoutout to the artists who got their art on front of the tag! That's exciting! I'm being a mean bitch right now but that's fun and exciting!)

I hate how people see her as so one-note. I hate how she's often just "Odysseus' wife". MOST CONTENT OF HER IS HIM SIMPING OVER HER. (that's something I'm guilty of too! I plan to fix that soon. I have so many wips and so lil time and too high of personal standards because since she has so little content of her, I WILL make it good. I'll TRY to make it good.)

EVEN HEADCANONS! SO MUCH OF FANDOM STILL ONLY HAS HEADCANONS THAT HAVE TO DO WITH ODYSSEUS OR TELEMACHUS. GIVE ME SOMETHING ABOUT HER CHILDHOOD. GIVE ME LIL QUIRKS SHE HAS. What does she struggle with? What's her favorite color? Does she like dancing? ANYTHING.

Feelings about how fandom sees her are also summed up by this and this.

...Do you see my problem? Just one of my problems?

So many people genuinely read the Odyssey and just see her as the "crying wife". People diminish her character and her intelligence all the fucking time. You wanna know something I've noticed? PEOPLE ONLY TALK ABOUT HER INTELLIGENCE WHEN ODYSSEUS IS THERE. Like with how she tricks him and how she tricks the suitors. Nobody talks about the moment when Athena appears as her sister in her dream and she is immediately like "hey, if you're some god, is my husband still alive?" she clocks her as Athena RIGHT AWAY.

People constantly forget her violent thoughts against the suitors! Or when she sasses Telemachus and Euryclea. When she scolds and threatens the maids. (she's not always nice y'all!) Do you really think Odysseus would be obsessed with someone who isn't on his level?

We all know that he loves her. BUT WHY?! "Because she's smart like him." Yeah, we know. WHAT ELSE?

They are Likeminded! Thinking and acting alike! You know how fun that is?!

Homer, you absolute mad lad genius. You made her a mystery to the narrator, Odysseus, and for some reason, people see that as her just being a straight up mystery. You wrote her so wonderfully and so complex with how she is so sneaky in her own way that people are literally tricked by her as readers as well!

Or sadly, more likely, people fucking blackout when she's in the scene and there's no Odysseus. 🙄

Look, even if you have Penelope be the "braincell" who keeps her husband in line, MAKE SURE SHE'S NOT ACTING LIKE ODYSSEUS' FUCKING MOM. They're both grown ass adults for fuck's sake!

Also...please...PLEASE have her be more than a prop for the men around her. I've read some things that could literally have her be replaced by Euryclea, as Penelope is sometimes just used as a sounding board.

I'll be even more bitchier. Even in the OT3 she's commonly in. It wasn't a NOTP until I noticed most creations of that ship was just "Odysseus and this person for 6000+ words... Oh, and Penelope making an appearance in the footnotes." If it's an OT3, they all love each other right? Where's the PenDio fics/art, cowards?

I have a weird theory about how people treat her that way. (other than fandom prioritizing men)

So there's "girlbossing" and "uwu sad victim" that fandom can never seem to leave. I think People do this with Helen and Clytemnestra and that's why THEY are "blorbo-able". (not saying they shouldn't be but they definitely get more love than Penelope)

Helen, despite not always being a victim in her story, has been through so much. Kidnapped and some people blame her for it (irl and some people in canon do blame the war on her). Very easy to cling to. I cling to her too! (she's on the "UwU always victim. tragic blorbo" end)

Clytemnestra, is a victim in the sense that she's a grieving and angry mother and wife. And so she killed Agamemnon. Her violence and anger is seen as "girlboss" despite all the horrible stuff she also did to her children. (she's more on the "girlboss" end)

Penelope, is not a victim to the same degree as Helen nor does she murder anyone (how could she? it was 108 people against her and the Odyssey shows that the suitors' parents were enraged. Even Odysseus was skeptical he could beat them.)

She's not on either end of the "scales" for people to find her "blorbo-able". She doesn't murder her husband or the suitors by herself or is a victim to them in the same way Helen is.

And that's just for people who know her husband didn't cheat. I think with people who think Odysseus did cheat, they hate her because "she let it slide". That she's "weakwilled" for knowing her husband went through literal hell and wanting him to be happy and safe.

Idk, It's a little lonely being one of the few "Penelope crazy" blogs.

I sometimes wonder if people kind of come to my blog in a "Hey, can you love her for me? Can you think about her for us?" as I have seen very little on her childhood for example. It's STILL mostly in relation to others.

It's not even the "sharing ideas" that bugs me. it's the feeling of people not wanting to come up with headcanons/ideas for her OUTSIDE of canon.

"She was in Helen's shadow." Okay, well, how did she feel about it? What did she do about it? Did she hide away? Did she internalize that? Did she find that freeing? To not be the center of attention?

Stuff like that. Dive DEEPER. PLEASE

It makes me happy that people love my Penelope as I love her too, clearly. But I really fucking hope you love the CANON Penelope too. If you think I made Penelope "better" or anything like that, then leave. She's already fantastic on her own.

I want to talk about her more. I want her to be seen more.

[lunastarnight]

Curts teeth

Another writing project, once again inspired by @turkeyinnovember. They made a post about a headcanon of theirs ( this one: https://www.tumblr.com/turkeyinnovember/717345318493110272/i-wish-i-can-just-shtpost-about-recreyo-and-not?source=share), so i tjought I might as well put my own little spin on it.

They had all just finished another scenario, and were now all sitting in their living room, just kinda excausted.

Curt and Christian were both on their phones, Curt playing some shitty mobile game to kill time and Christian looking through social media, Den was fidgeting with a pocket knife she had brought along, Ivan was still just kinda subconciously feeling where he had (once again) gotten stabbed in that scenario, and Kristine was holding an ice pack to her head, having hit it earlier.

But she was also staring at Curt. She had been wondering something for some time, finally unable to hold back and breaking the silence:

"So what's up with your teeth?"

Curt looked up confused. "My teeth?" he asked, thinking he might've just misheard her.

Kristine nodded, "Yeah, your teeth, why are they so weird?"

Curt looked confused, flashing his teeth for a moment. "The fuck are you talking about?" He looked to the others, hoping they could clarify what the fuck Kristine was trying to say.

Kristine vaguely gestured to him. "You know", she tried to explain herself, "why do they get so sharp sometimes?"

Christian laughed, speaking up. "Out of everything that happened, this is weird to you?"

Den shrugged. "Never really took the time to question it, figured it wad just some Multiverse stuff."

Ivan looked over with a small grin. "Gotta agree, sharp teeth aren't that big compared to some of the other stuff."

"Oh, that's what you meant." Curt shrugged. "No, not some multiverse thing or anything like that, this has always been like that, ever since I was a kid." Curt went back to his phone, nonchalantly adding "Probably just what happens when you're quarter Werewolf."

"Huh!?"

"Hm?!"

"What?!?"

The atmosphere in the room immediatally shifted, the other four staring at Curt, all of them having a different version of a mix of confusion and shock on their face.

Kristine spoke up first. "What did you just say?"Curt looked up at them again, raising an eyebrow. "What? Did I never tell you?" Chtistian sputtered in disbelief. "No! You kinda didn't." Curt seemed slightly apologetic for that, and quickly went to explain. "Oh, sorry. Well, my Grandma on my dad's side was a Werewolf, so with my dad being half a Werewolf, I'm quarter Werewolf."

They all just kinda stared at him, still very much confused. "You've never been gone on Full moon nights though.", Kristine muttered. "So what, you're immortal?" Ivan asked. "What, are you gonna turn us now that we know?" Christian said jokingly.

Curt held his hands up in the air, trying to get all of them to shut up. "Hold up, hold up, hold up, one thing after the other.", he said, looking to see if they were all paying attention, "First of all, how do you know I was never gone, did you watch me sleep or some shit?" Curt chuckled, interrupting Kristines sputtered attempt at defending herself as he continued. "But, the reason I was never away was, because I don't really have that transformation thing. Under 50 percent you typically loose most of the major Werewolf stuff like transforming into a Wolf or howling at the moon. Second, I'm not immortal, don't think any Werewolf is, they just have a longer lifespan, but since I'm more human, I will probably not live longer then any of you guys. Lastly, no, I won't. Even if I wanted to, the whole "turning people into Werewolfes" thing is kinda for actual Werewolfes, the only real Werewolf things I have are the teeth, slightly enhanced senses, and nightvision. So, even if I were to try, and bite one of you, the most that would probably happen is that'd taste bad."

They sat in silence for a bit, taking in the information, before Ivan perked up again. "What's that supposed to mean, do you think we aren't clean?"

Curt grinned, leaning back in his seat. "Honestly? Especially you, even just with all the stupid situations you're in every scenario, you probably sweat more then the rest of us, that can't taste good."

And with Ivan trying to defend himself, the usual banter continued as if nothing happened. Curts heritage had been a suprise, but honestly? As previously said, really not a big deal compared to what they were usually getting into, they'd be fine.

[mincyberr]

welcm to cy's hot takes, where my takes might fire back at me 😭

sorry in advance! 😭 -

this hot take is about 4 things

more ships, (BC why not), Chuck, Brenda and Group B (every Group B member)

(requested by: @zer0brainc3lls)

This is because I didn't post a hot take in awhile so I need to feed my children 🤭🎂 and also my bday is in 12 days and I been busy soo sorry for that. Anyways let's get to it!!

1: Ships:

Avanson (Ava Janson), I see this in the books, movies no, because Janson shot Ava like poor girl. Books wise (from Death Cure chp 1-20) I think it might happen?

Benmas (Ben Thomas), not gonna happen, he attacked the guy, not made out. Get a brain check smh...

Borge (Brenda Jorge), not gonna happen for a few reasons, the books and movies show them as family, not lovers, AGES! And the fact they see eachother as Dad and Daughter. So sorry, not gonna happen.

Miresa (Minho Teresa) BRO THEY HATE EACH OTHER! Have you seen the books?! Minho says: "I don't trust that girl" the moment he learns about her. Like he fights her in Death Cure (movie) DO I NEED MORE?!

Nalby (Newt Alby), I kinda say both, I hate it and like it. They like eachother but not crushing... More of leader friends. Yk yk?

2: Chuck (Chuckie boy!!)

He's a cute adorable and happy boy, I wish we had more of him in the books and movies... Like he was a good character but he was so unused. I know he was shown in Fever Code, HES AMAZING THERE! But I wish he had more time in there. He is nice and caring but he needs better screen time then being shot/stabbed by Gally.

7/10, cute but stop shipping/simping. 😑🙏

3: Brenda

She's amazing, I love how everyone has subject names and she's girlboss. Like amazing. She saved Thomas and Minho in the Scotch, she trusted Thomas and Gladers and helped Jorge to trust them and now look where they are! She also hates Teresa (same girl) and WCKD even though she works for them.

10/10 girlboss for the win.

4: Group B.

Aris: He is so ANNOYING LIKE HOW THE SKIBIDI DO PEOPLE LIKE THE GUY?! He kissed Teresa, betrayed Group B and A, helped WCKD and is a ass in general.

Rachel: I wish I have a say in her. I don't. Because she barely have any lines but being killed by Beth. (Gallys opposite and said in Scotch Trials book) And the fact she was so annoying in Fever Code just killed me.

Sonya, Harriet: Both amazing, nice, helped Thomas and knew they were on there side, not WCKDs. Sonya is Newts sister, I'm not gonna be biased about it. Harriet is like Minho to me so that's cool. I like how they are Alby and Newt opposites. It's amazing 🤩😍. 10/10

Miyoko, Beth: They don't have a say but I do like what I found of them. Miyoko is Minho's opposite and Beth is Gallys opposite if you forget. They are cool people so that's all for that. But I want more MIYOKO!!

Anyways that's a long hot take for y'all. Eat up kids. Anyways love ya!

♡ cy/cyber (stan minho)

[obx-lovergirl]

Guys don’t get me wrong but I don’t really think JJ is coming back in season 5.

After I watched the last episode of season 4 part 2 I was really hoping they are gonna get the crone and ‘wish’ him back, but I don’t think so.

First of all, this is not teen wolf duh (I love teen wolf) and second, all this shit about Madison and Rudy went way too far, like they even needed a stunt double for a hug scene 🤨

I think Elaine is just a really really OVERPROTECTIVE girlfriend. And of course she couldn’t handle this relationship I mean have you seen her attractive boyfriend? hehe

All we wanted was a healthy ending, they got the crown, got JJ’s real dad, and went back to obx. We didn’t wanted to see this piece of shit stabbing our Babe.

And this screenshot from freaking GOOGLE says ‘Rudy Pankow as JJ for season 5 obx’ is shit like google also says I’m gonna die in 3 days cause I got headaches. Don’t forget this man 🙏🏼

This sounds like I wanted him to die, I did NOT wanted that, JJ was my fave. But this whole drama about JJ coming back is just really delusional cause y’all can’t handle seeing your bae dead (me either tbh)

Just wanted to say this cause all those people on TikTok are getting on my nerves 😭🙏🏼

[kradogsrats]

What I do think about constantly: the level of absolute drama in Viren's illusory death, like... who is responsible for that? Which of them cast that illusion? ("Lord Stabbington! Why? Spurt! Spurt!")

The obvious answer would be Claudia, but I think if she had to control the illusion through this situation she wouldn't be able to keep it up—like, she knows it's not real, and she's still incredibly shook by seeing Viren die in front of her, if only because she couldn't imagine that Soren would go through with killing him.

So then is Viren controlling it from afar? That feels unlikely. However, illusion magic in general seems to be kind of "set it and forget it" in the sense that you don't have to pre-program or micromanage all of the illusion's reactions. Maybe it feeds off of the expectations of the people it's working on, and this is the level of drama that Soren's (and probably a bit of Claudia's) psyche provides. Maybe this is an unusually vivid fantasy of Aaravos's manifesting. Maybe it's just ~*magic*~ and no one cares about the mechanics.

Either way, the punchline here is that whether Claudia leaves the scene like "o~hohoho, I did a great job and am going to get such a good grade in betraying my friends from my very definitely alive dad" or "holy FUCK, that was kinda traumatizing but at least I can get a hug from my very definitely alive dad"... at some point in the not-too-distant future she's gonna wish he had only been stabbed.

[matthewloverr]

The Book P3

matt x maysen drew (femreader)

part three | part one | part two

summary: when watching the people you love destroy themselves and choose money and fame over you, you found someone else to love.

warnings: swearing, smoking (weed, cigarettes) angst, mention of substance abuse/ addiction, mentions of abuse, angst, some mentions of starving

a/n: again this chapter is pretty heavy so please read at your own risk and take care of yourself i love you and enjoy !

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

i stare at him blankly, did he really just say that, did those words come out of his mouth?? no i must’ve heard him wrong.

“masyn?” he says staring at me concern written all over his face.

“what do you mean matt” my voice cracking as i struggled to hold back my tears.

he takes a deep breath.

“that night i was gonna surprise you and show up at your house to hangout, i heard noises from the house so i parked down the street and turned my lights off, your dad sped out of there so fast he didn’t notice me”

i felt my heart go up in my throat. matt was fucking there, matt knew something had happened and never said anything.

anger pumped through my veins, im not sure why but my mind couldn’t focus on that.

i just stared at him with tears brimming in my eyes before i ran my tongue along my teeth.

“take me home” i said deadpanning out the window.

“what”

“i said, take me the fuck home”

“mays please” he pleaded begging me to look at him.

“ill fucking walk”

with that he threw the car in drive and out we went, the car ride was silent but there was so much tension. the tears just fell from my eyes and wouldn’t stop.

we reached my house and i just waiting until he left, that’s when i grabbed my own car and went to who i thought the only other person who knew, my best friend since we i was 3 and she was 5 celeste.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

i reached celeste’s house and as i walked up to the door i called her to let her know i was here.

“c-cel” you could tell by my voice that i had been crying.

“masyn? where are you?” she replied with a concerned tone.

“im outside can you let me in please”

with that i heard some shuffling through the phone and then the door unlocked and she opened it.

celeste’s pov:

i opened the door to the girl i had seen basically everyday since we were kids, she practically lived at my house. i knew the girl way too much to know that something was seriously wrong.

there she stood, on my porch, tears streaming down her face and this look like the life had been pulled out of her.

she immediately wrapped her arms around me and started sobbing. me and masyn were sisters at this point and we had maybe hugged twice in the years we’ve known each other.

i felt like i had been stabbed in the chest seeing her like this.

masyn’s pov:

i held my best friend so close i don’t even think she could breathe, i appreciated her so much for just knowing something was wrong and not turning me away.

celeste was there for everything, when my moms book blew up, when i found out she was using again, when my dad lost all our money and the night he left.

matt knew most things but the one person who would be there and listen everytime no matter what was celeste.

and i was there for her although she was a very quiet person, i would be worried at times thinking that she didn’t trust me but overtime i just learned she wasn’t a person that talked about their feelings.

and most of all i loved our friendship so much because even when we argue or just don’t talk for a bit because the world gets too hectic, we always come back together.

i loved celeste with everything in me, we never showed our affection but sometimes i just wish i could scream at her and tell her how grateful i am that she is here and how much i love her.

we walked up to her bedroom and i immediately sat on my specific spot on her bed, we just sat in silence and she gave me a minute to calm down.

“he was there cel” the words coming out of my mouth without me even registering it.

“who was there, and where?” she replied slightly grabbing my hand.

“matt, he was there the night my dad left”

i tilted my head to look at her and i watched as her face went blank.

“what do you mean he was there? did he tell anyone?” her words spat out faster than i could comprehend.

“he was outside waiting for me so we could hangout, i had no idea”

“he didn’t know the entire story but after i explained he told me and i just told him to bring me home”

we sat in silence for a bit before my thoughts cleared and then i remembered.

“oh and my dad is home”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

it had been two days since i spoke to matt, to be honest it was horrible i wanted to just text him and hangout.

that night i snuck in through my window to avoid any confrontation from my dad but with that i also never left my room.

i hadn’t eaten in two days.

i had managed to pull myself out of my bed and stared at the reflection in the mirror.

my hair was messy, i was wearing a shirt that was ten sizes too big and black shorts.

the thought of my parents barging in my room kept me up at night so there wasn’t much sleep either, and you could tell by the deep bags underneath my eyes.

i grabbed the hairbrush off my dress and attempted to brush my hair, ten minutes had gone by and a chunk of my hair was ripped out but it finally looked decent.

i immediately went to the shower and turned it on taking off the clothes that had been on my body for far too long.

i stepped in the shower feeling the warm water hit my skin, i couldn’t even think straight like what the actual hell was happening.

i hoped out and quickly washed my face, brushed my teeth and threw on a pair of grey sweats and a black tank.

here goes nothing.

i grabbed the door handle to my door and thought of everything that could go wrong in the next two seconds, i felt sick just thinking about it.

i twisted the knob and off i went, the smell of breakfast hit my nose and my stomach started grumbling immediately.

i walked down my stairs and went to the kitchen. there he was, my father sat at the dining table tapping away on his phone while sipping on a coffee.

he looked up at me and smiled from ear to ear.

it was so fucking fake.

“good of you to join us” he says while sipping his coffee.

my mother whips her head around and spots me and i almost fall to my knees. her skin was so pale and her eyes were puffed up like she had been crying.

she stared at me with a scared expression but quickly changed it to a weak smile.

“good morning hunny, where have you been?” she says as she focuses on flipping pancakes in the pan she’s holding.

“celestes” i say lying through my teeth. i didn’t want then knowing i was home this whole time.

“not excited to see your father” my dad says finally peeling his eyes away from his phone.

“no” i say blatantly as i grab a peice of bread throwing it in the toaster not daring to look him in the eye.

“that’s no way to speak to me” he says anger starting to build in his tone.

the words running down my spine making me freeze.

“sorry” i reply with my head down.

i glanced up at him and he stared at me, like right into my soul i couldn’t do it anymore so i ran up stairs completely forgetting about the toast i had just made.

i shut my door behind me and lean my back up against it, i slid down and pulled my knees to my chest and i noticed my heart was racing.

i couldn’t stay here, i whipped out my phone and clicked on the last contact i had texted. matt.

“are you free right now?”

“on the way.”

a/n: sorry if this parts a bit boring idk, anyways love yaz and see you at the next part😉