#so she's had to go from 'who am i' to trying to learn how to be a whole person saving the world in under a year

[randompiecesofwriting]

Wrong Name (Part 2)

Summary: Part 2 of Wrong Name ft. an accidental proposal

Pairing: Jack Abbot x reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warning: None! Just super cute!

Author’s note: And I present a part 2 I honestly never thought I would write! Thank you thank you thank you to everyone who left likes reblogs and comments they all mean that absolute world to me I love hearing about your favorite parts it absolutely makes my day and I hope you like this part too!

Check out part one here!

He thought he had learned to stop being so surprised to see you just show up at the hospital.

It was always with an excuse, dropping off food for the staff, meeting him after a shift to walk home, giving him something he had forgot at home, but he thinks you actually just like being around, and the rest of the doctors of the Pitt certainly felt the same way. He was pretty sure they just texted you, asking you to come when they needed you, and you never hesitated to follow through.

It was nice to have someone outside of the Pitt. It was something he learned early on with you. Nice to have someone with what felt like objective eyes on the good and the bad, who could give perspective from a point of view other than a medical professional. And somehow, you’ve become that person for the people in the ED still too new to have that network yet.

So maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised to see you sitting on a bench across from the hospital, drinking a beer from a familiar looking cooler, surrounded by familiar looking young doctors.

“Have my med students kidnapped you” a part of him relished the way everyone in the group but you jumped a little at his voice, their immediate reaction to try and hide the beer as if they had been caught doing something wrong.

All except you who grinned up at him from the bench, tilting your neck back eagerly to give him a quick kiss in greeting with a hum of approval. “Kidnap? Please, I think I could take them”

Mel’s head tilted slightly to the side as if trying to figure out whether you were joking or not while Javadi’s eyes go wide and bounce rapidly between the two of you still trying to figure out if she was somehow going to get in trouble for this.

It was Whitaker who pipped up to fill the silence “Well Santos knows Krav Maga”

You looked at the intern with a raised brow, watching as she tried to bite down and hide her proud smirk behind her can. “That’s okay she’d be on my side”

“Damn right I would” she responded immediately, clinking her can against yours in a toast as you chuckled.

“Well now that your white knight is here what do you say we head home” he cut in putting a hand on your shoulder and giving it a soft squeeze.

“And that kiddies is my cue” You gave a dramatic groan as you stood up, raising your can in front of you to address them “to my favorite doctors in all of PTMC who work under Dr. Abbot” you gave a pause for dramatic effect “who I am incredibly proud of and did amazing work today”

Javadi gave a snort at that “you weren’t even here to verify that”

“Oh those weren’t my words” you assured her quickly “those came directly from Jack”

“Now hold on” he tired to interject but you steamrolled ahead.

“Goes on constantly about how proud he is of you guys”

“Wait a second”

“How you are the best residents he’s ever had”

“I certainly didn-“

“And that you’re all getting raises”

Jack tried to swallow back the chuckle that ruminated in his chest “And with that we are leaving”

You chuckled fondly at him, Jack beyond powerless to do anything but smile softly back at you.

“Alright I will see you all…probably fairly soon you’re kinda stuck with me now”

Mel pipped up just as you started to retreat “we’re still on for Friday right?”

“Yes” You responded eagerly, making your way over to Jack and not hesitating to take his hand in yours, giving the fingers a reassuring squeeze “your sister’s okay with it right?”

“Of course she is she likes you” Mel rolled her eyes like it was obvious only making your grin widen.

“Good I like her too. But I wanted to check. You can’t just crash a King sister tradition without checking” Pulling softly on his arm you started to lead Jack away from the benches, still calling out back behind you “text me if she doesn’t want me to come, no hurt feelings got it?”

Mel gave you a thumbs up in response, you just about to finally turn around and leave with Jack before Whitaker called out again.

“Goodbye Mrs.A-“

“Whittaker you finish that sentence I���ll sic Santos on you”

And finally, finally Jack had you all to himself. A comfortable silence falling over the two of you as you started to make the familiar trek home.

“You’ve met King’s sister?”

“You haven’t?”

And all Jack could do was laugh because of course you have. Of course you knew all about how she spent her time outside of work. Of course you had gotten yourself invited to their family tradition.

But still his mind was stuck on one particular part of that conversation. Unable to stop himself from asking even as he felt he shouldn’t. “Have you ever thought about it? Being Mrs. Abbot”

“Of course” you answered so quickly, so thoughtlessly, as if those two words hadn’t made his heart stutter in his chest “that’s why its written in pink glitter pen on every page of my diary”

And maybe you noticed the way his smile didn’t fully reach his eyes, or the way his laugh didn’t live in his chest as it normally did, but something made you pause before giving a more honest answer.

“Yeah I’ve thought about it”

He let the answer hang for a bit, let you enjoy yourself watching him squirm before he spoke “and?”

Like he knew you would you grinned back at him. Giving your interlocked hands a little swing “and I think I could go either way”

“Really?” he asked with a raised brow “you have no opinions?”

You shrugged in response “I think I’ve decided my priority is you.”

And truthfully he didn’t know what to say to that. In all the ways he had envisioned this conversation going, all the possible answers you could have given that was not one he had prepared for.

“I like what we have going” you shrugged, giving his hand a soft squeeze “we’re good. I like the idea of making it official, I don’t need it though” And finally you looked up at him, a soft smile on your lips, nothing short of complete devotion in your eyes “at the end of the day I’m going to spend my life with you Jack Abbot and there’s nothing you can do about it”

That finally pulled a real laugh out of him, the kind that rumbled deep in his chest, as he forced the two of you to stop, an action you didn’t seem at all surprised by.

He brought his palm up to cup your cheek, fingers threading lazily though the hair behind your ear as he rubbed softly back and forth on your skin, taking a moment to truly look at you, appreciate the beauty of the person he was so unfathomably lucky to call his. “You promise?”

“For you my dearest Jack Rabbit” you declared with a grin, going up onto your toes until your nose touched his, finishing on a whisper “I vow it”

-

“You know you two aren’t being subtle” Jack hadn’t even bothered to look up as he said it, had in fact spent the better part of the day avoiding their gaze as much as possible.

“Well I wasn’t going for subtle. Dana?” Robby stated matter-of-factly, glancing over at his charge nurse as he said it.

“I was going for overt” she shrugged.

And Jack knew exactly what their expressions would before he looked up, could guess the mixture of barely contained mirth and disappointment that would paint their features without needing to confirm.

“Well if you could keep your overt stares to yourselves that would be great”

“What is it Jackie-boy is it the ring?” Dana ignored him, leaning forward onto her forearms from across from him, bending down and seeking his gaze just as he usually did with people “I told you the ring’s perfect. It matches all of the stuff she already has well”

“No it’s not the ring” Jack cut her off with an annoyed look, keeping his head pointed down at the charting he had abandoned long ago “now if you excuse me some of us have a job to do”

“Well if not the ring then what?” Robby jumped in, mirroring Dana’s stance as he did so, the two doing their best to present a unified front, a fact that almost had Jack chuckling despite himself “You know when I told you she was too good for you I was mostly joking”

With a dramatic sigh Jack finally straightened and looked at the two across the desk from him, resigning himself to the fact that there was no escaping this conversation for much longer “no it’s not-“

“Dr. Abbot” Mel King his saving grace appeared next to him effectively catching the attention of all three of them, Jack more than happy to distract himself with whatever case she needed him on than withstand anymore grilling from his two so-called friends.

“Yes Dr. King”

“I just wanted to ask if-“ and he spoke too soon.

“No” Jack effectively cut off the line of questioning, turning back to his chart physically putting an end to the conversation

“But I just think that-“ Mel tried again

“No”

“Have you considered-“

“Still no”

“Dr. Abbot” Robby finally cut in, raising a brow at his friend as he put on his best teacher voice that only succeeded in pulling an eye roll from Jack “I’m not sure if you’re aware but this is a teaching hospital”

“It sure is” Jack responded in a similar tone “and teaching is exactly the thing I would love to be able to do today but thanks to some of us who have decided to be nosey and ‘overt’” he pointedly glared at the two of them “the rest of the staff have gotten it in their heads that they should get to be there when I propose”

And though he hoped that would be enough to get everyone back to work Jack was never that lucky, Robby immediately jumping in with “so it is for sure a when not an if then”.

Jack only glared at his friend, pointedly ignoring the shit-eating grin he wore as he stared unflinchingly back, Mel deciding this was the perfect opportunity to plead her case again “I just think that when it happens I-“

“Okay everyone listen up” Jack cut her off with a loud clap of his hands, effectively pulling the attention of anyone in the center of the ED.

“Dr. Abbot” Dana tried to call his attention, but he steamrolled ahead.

“I’m only going to say this once”

“Jack” Dana tried again as Jack once again pointedly ignored her.

“It will be done in private, just the two of us, at a time when I feel it is right alright?” He challenged the ED with a raised brow, his audience, despite his words, looking almost giddy before him.

“Sweetheart” Dana again tried to cut him off but Jack was too deep into his speech now.

“I appreciate your help with the ring and everything you all have done for the two of us but you need to stop pushing”

At this Dana had no more to say, little more than a deep sigh coming from the nurse as she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the counter behind her.

“When I propose it will be on my own terms got it?”

The ED went silent around him, his students eyes wide as they did little more than stare up at him with rapt attention confusing Jack slightly.

“When you what”

Jack froze. He knew that voice. He knew that voice all too well. And even if he didn’t one look at the shit-eating grin on Robby’s face was more than enough to confirm it.

Jack spun in place quicker than his feet could really keep up to see you standing just a few feet behind him, frozen in place staring back at him with a wide-eyed gaze making Jack curse under his breath.

For the longest time no one said anything, the two of you frozen before one another as Jack’s head desperately reached for absolutely anything to say, finally settling on a defeated “what are you doing here”

“When you propose?” And God help him the way your lips twitched up at the corners as you said it made him nearly melt on the spot, Jack unable to fight the smile from growing on his lips in response as he took a few steps closer to you until he was almost chest to chest.

“Okay fine yes, when” he conceded with a soft chuckle, stooping his head slightly to fully meet your gaze as he drove his next point home “which is not this moment”

“But it’s going to happen?” Your question came back quick, your smile quickly growing to a full on grin that Jack wanted to be exasperated at. It would’ve been so much easier to shut down this conversation if he could remain stoic but the unbridled glee in your eyes had his resolve crumbling.

“In the future yes but I cannot stress this enough, not right now”

“Yes I say yes, or I will say yes” you eagerly grabbed at his forearms as the words all but spilled out of you. Jack helpless against the warmth that radiated within his chest at the action, his hands reaching forward to grab your face between them as a laugh threatened to bubble out of him.

“I am not proposing right now”

You all but ignored him, pulling his hands off your face but keeping them captured in your own as you continued on “have you already bought a ring? Can I see it?”

You were like a dog after a treat, oh so eager to barrel on ahead despite everything and Jack was finding it much too hard to be mad about it “I don’t have it on me because I refused to get engaged in the Pitt while I’m in scrubs”

And finally you seemed to properly take in the scene around you, the florescent lights ahead, the beep of machines all around you, the much too eager eyes of his coworkers who watched the scene before them unfold with rapt attention. “Alright fine”

Jack nearly sagged in relief at that, glad you were finally seeing things from his point of view before you cut him off again.

“But can I see it when we get home?”

A shocked laugh spilled out of the man as he shook his head, raking an exasperated hand over the lower half of his face “will you let me do it properly? Get on one knee, recite a speech I’ll pretend I didn’t spend hours writing. The whole nine yards” Never in his life did he think he would have to beg his fiancé to let him properly propose.

You pretended to think it over, the grin on your face telling him you were getting entirely too much enjoyment out of torturing him like this “Can we do dinner first? My favorite restaurant?”

He rolled his eyes at your response, unable to fight the fond smile from his lips as he did so “this isn’t a negotiation”

But you only stared up at him through your lashes, bottom lip pinned between your teeth, and Jack was putty in your hands, throwing  out the last resemblance of a plan he had with a sigh “we have reservations this weekend”

He barely got the words out before you were wrapping your arms around his neck and pushing your lips up against his, Jack grinning happily into the kiss as he pulled you by the waist deeper into him, finding that he didn’t much mind this part of this catastrophe of a proposal.

But like usual the ED chimed in at the perfect time, an abrupt cheer from his friends around him pulling the two of you apart as you were swarmed by his med students, the kids eagerly pulling you into their own set of congratulatory hugs.

But with a grin like that on your face Jack still found he couldn’t be too mad about it.

A hand clapping his shoulder pulled Jack’s attention away from the excited conversation happening between you and his students, Robby sliding up next to him with a smug smile on his face “You know I’m honored you’d want me here today to witness-“

“Shut the fuck up” Jack cut him off sharply but with a chuckle, not hesitating to pull him into a hug, Robby whispering into his friends shoulder “I’m happy for you brother”

[c4tluver02]

over

wc: 1.8k

summary: Steve is still dealing with the aftermath of Vecna. Leaning on the newfound friendship he has with you might not be the best thing.

warnings: hurt w barely any comfort but nothing too crazy!!

a/n: i could do a pt 2 if you guys are interested in that just lmk :D!!

I look so tame, no blame, no blame. ♫

It had officially been three months since everything that went down with Vecna. The rawness of it all is still fresh in everyone's mind. Dustin is still mourning Eddie, Jonathan and Nancy are having their own issues, Robs trying to heal but also be with Vickie. And Steves…. Well he's fine. He has to be– no one’s at 100% and there's always someone that needs a shoulder to cry on. 

Working at Family Video has been helpful. The consistency and routine was good for him. Along with the distraction of course, it was a thing for him to do instead of stare off into space, his brain reminding him how the bats biting into his skin felt. Mind wandering back to that awful place that took everything from him. The scars that litter his body are finally healing, he's trying a new cream that will hopefully make them fade. 

So when you walked into Family Video asking for help with a movie suggestion he didn't really think much about it. Of course Steve has eyes, he can see how beautiful your smile was, and how you smelt like vanilla– so sweet he could eat you up. But at the end of the day he can't sleep, the nightmares are nightly and if it's not him it's the kids. He has enough on his plate and being there for his family took top priority, they always came before anything, or anyone, else. 

It didn’t mean he couldn't talk to you though, right? It wouldn't hurt to talk to the pretty girl that comes in a few times a month and always asks for his help. You always came in with a smile and laughed at all his jokes. If he wasn't so broken he might actually think your laughs could heal him. And when you both were laughing so hard at something he said and you put your hand on his arm it felt like maybe the scar that lingered there could finally disappear due to how soft your touch was. It was like you could fix anything about him by just being you. A medicine Steve has yet to try. 

-

It was a particularly hard week for Steve. It was only Wednesday and he was already behind in stocking things for the store. Robin called out since she was sick so Steve was on his own. Which after a long time of being with the group he learned was his least favorite thing possibly ever. The thoughts that came to his mind when he was alone were always dark and scary. Never leaving easily and extremely vivid. Steve thinks somehow some God or being heard how bad he was struggling and sent you to come in today. 

The door opened and a bell rang signaling to Steve that he thankfully wasn't alone anymore. Even better it was you. It was a rainy day, perfect match to Steve's mood, and you were wearing a knit sweater with a t- shirt under, paired with dark denim jeans. You looked casual and comfy which weirdly warmed Steve's heart in the best way. 

“Hi.” You say simply with your kind smile. You're here to return your latest movie and pick up another one. 

“Hi. How's your day been?” Steve asks as he scans your movie return. This pattern between you two is becoming simple in nature, like something he could do with his eyes closed. That's how easy it felt. 

“It’s been okay, I just thought a movie on a rainy day would be cozy. How's your day been?” Your head falls to the side as you ask. You look really cute today and it's all Steve can think about. 

“It’s been so boring. Rob's sick so I am all alone here. And I think you're the only person who wants to go out to get a movie on a rainy day.” Steves rambling a bit but how could you blame him he hasn't talked to someone all day, and it's you. 

“Poor Steve.” You coo “I can stick around if you want? It’s so cloudy out I would get so sad seeing it all day.” It’s a leap, even for you. There's a reason you come around paying $6 for a movie every few weeks. Steve may not see it but you're here for him and if you could stay any longer you would in a heartbeat. 

“Oh no it's totally okay you don't have to put your day on hold for me. Despite how it looks, I am actually here to work.” Steve ends it off with a smile. 

“I really don't mind Steve. I wasn't doing anything anyway, if I could spend it hanging with you that would be a day well spent.” You're praying that you are not coming off as clingy.  The last thing you want is to scare him away. He hasn't been the easiest to break down. 

Steve can't help but smile. When he gets home he’ll thank whoever brought you here to him. You do way more for him than you even realize. 

“Okay, then you can't complain about being my helper.” His grin widening. He picks up a stack of DVDs and hands them to you. 

You take them with no complaint, walking close behind him. Steve starts placing them in their correct places and it's a nice comforting silence that falls between you two.  Only a few minutes in the bell on the door rings loudly. Both of you turn your heads to see who it is. Some tall blonde girl who seems to be dressed for the wrong weather. Long tan legs showing under her short spring dress. 

“Hello, welcome to Family Video.” Steve shouts from the area you guys are in before he resumes his task. Steve is in a vest that has his name tag on it. Anyone who saw him could tell he worked there unlike you with a regular outfit on. 

“Excuse me? Could I get your help?” The girl asks, looking directly at Steve. One could even argue looking him up and down. 

Steve places the DVD in his hand back on the stack you're holding and you move out of his way. She leads him to the other side of the store and you're left to stand there. It’s not Steve's fault you're here but you can't help but feel upset that he's over there. She's wasting your precious time with him and from the looks of it he's not complaining about it. Looking over at them Steve’s deep in explaining the plot of the Breakfast club. There's no doubt in your mind that she's not seen this movie, everyones seen this movie! But still she's standing there listening to him like she hasn't. And of course Steve, always up to help, is feeding it to her. 

When he's done he asks her something and she nods, they both walk up to the counter. He checks her out and she writes something on the receipt and slides it back his way. Steve's eyes go wide with surprise and she smiles as she slowly walks out the door. 

Feeling done with just standing there, you walk up to the counter and place the DVDs down. 

“What was that all about?” You ask, trying to sound casual. Completely uninterested.

“She uh, she just needed some help but I guess she liked the bad description of the breakfast club that I gave her.” Steve says laughing with the paper that has her number on it in his hand. 

“You gonna call her?” If he says yes you think you’ll burst into tears right here right now. “I mean she seemed really pretty.” 

The way the tone of your voice lowered on the last few words wasn't missed on Steve. “Nah, not my type. Plus, I'm not, well, I’m not really looking for something right now. I guess?” Now Steve has a weird tone. He doesn’t know why he just said that. Not that it's not somewhat true. 

Your shoulders deflate. You feel like you just got punched over and over. To see some girl throw herself at him and then to learn after all this time he ‘guesses’ he isn't looking for something. Not only does he not want that girl, he doesn't want you or anyone for that matter. The glances, the touches, the inside jokes– all of it thrown out the window.

“Oh, yeah. That um, that makes sense.” You say nodding. Your movements may show that it's normal and everything is okay and you’re ready to go back to helping him. But your mind is moving a million hours per minute and you think maybe you might have a full blown panic attack in front of him. 

“There's just a lot in my personal life right now and, yeah I don't know why I'm explaining it all to you. It’s not like you're the one who asked me out or anything.” Steve quietly laughs as he scratches the back of his neck. 

“No, no yeah I completely get it.” You drum your fingers against the counter. “Relationships can be a lot so yeah.” Your eyes are looking at the ground and you're thinking of how to get out of here. 

As if mother nature heard your thoughts herself, thunder rang through the building and lightning made a quick flash. “I should probably get home before this storm gets bad.” You say looking out the windows that line the walls. 

“Oh, okay. Get home safe then.” Steve murmurs. You aren't looking at him and he doesn’t know how this got so awkward so fast. The idea of sitting here all alone again back in his thoughts. It was as if you were the sun brightening his horrible day.

“I will. Thank you for the DVD.” Your eyes finally meet his when you thank him. He gives you a quick nod with a tight lipped smile and you are out the door. Running to your car as rain pours down on you and somehow you get out of the parking lot even faster. As if you couldn't stand being there a second longer. 

Steve's shoulders slump over and his head falls to his hands. Here he is back all alone, no one to pull him out of whatever he's going through. No one a phone call away for him. And now the one thing that made his weeks a little more bearable is gone. As quick as the lightning that shocked you in the first place. Steve can still hear the little sound made and it makes his heart flutter. All he can do now is think of the last few minutes you were here to figure out where he went wrong, and hope you keep coming back. 

[dumbkiri]

𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐀𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐒 7

χα∂єη яισяѕση χ ƒ! мαιяι! яєα∂єя

ρℓσт: you awake from your slumber along with Lenin with more of an understanding of your background. mating bonds are difficult to walk around.

12 pgs, 4.2k words

“Lenin, how is your transformation going?”

You haven’t spoken in months to anyone because of your slumber. But you always remained speaking to Lenin through your dreams. After seeing your death in the eyes of your sisters, the witches, you were allowed to communicate with Lenin in your dreams like breathing came to you naturally. 

Your signet developed into something your sisters called ‘manipulation of pure magic’. You were able to channel your own source of power by funneling it into Lenin, with his permission of course. 

Yet that came at a cost. 

When Lenin chose you as his rider that is when your power began to surge in pulses. Uncontained and powerful. 

“Since the beginning, I always knew there was something special about you, Dagger.” 

He told you this when you began to learn about your history. Then your sisters explained that Lenin chose to hide your true nature, your power, because he knew what you were capable of. The ability to be an infinite source for the wards, like the humans thought your sisters could be. 

Hours passed with you staring at a drawing of your dragon on the wall. His dark wings spread out on the sheet with hints of blue running down the membrane, Lenin’s spine dotted with smooth bumps speckled in blue then blending into a pitch black surrounding the rest of his body. 

A feeling of sadness seeped into your body thinking about the vision. Your burned belongings when you die. This piece of paper was going to be the last form of his original look. And they were going to burn it. Only those now will remember how Lenin used to look with his beautifully midnight blue scales, a lethal combination of Sgaeyl and Tairn. 

“I look nothing like my parents, Dagger,” Lenin admitted with shame, “All of them look at me like I’m cursed, but Andarna. She’s enamored with my new color.” 

“Color?” You asked quizzically, holding yourself up with your arm, “I thought only your size changed. What color are you now?”

“Come see me,” He huffed, “I don’t think I can do you justice by telling you the color. Everything about me has changed except for my thoughts. I am still me.”

“Is that what you try telling your parents?” You could feel him radiate his emotions a bit more strongly now after you slept for months. His apprehension of his change before it actually happened thwarted your resolve in your own slumber,  but he reassured you that this is something he will get used to. The covenant explained that not only does Lenin channel his magic through you, you channel a deeper, stronger magic into him. Hence his new change of appearance. And other things like your signet being able to do a lot more. Changes made to become who you were meant to be later on, The Maiden of the Moon.  

When he didn’t answer, it gave you the information you needed. His parents do not take lightly that he changed color because of your magic. 

“I’ll be there.”  

You removed the layers of blankets off your body and gradually you became accustomed to moving your limbs. Months of sleeping did not do your usually strong body justice, but your mind never faltered. You can train when you get better, during the calm before the storm. 

Storm. 

Speaking of the weather, General Sorrengail and the other higher ups will be here for the Reunification Day. A day you dreaded ever since the killing of your parents, well…foster parents. The scars on Xaden’s back to account for all the children of the traitorous reminded you that he had the heaviest burden to carry. 

And you were not going to be one of them. He had too much to worry about and you didn’t want to be a problem for him. 

Perhaps you should make an early visit to his room? You knew he wanted to know what happened to you. The reason why you slept so long remained a mystery to him. Not even Sgaeyl knew what was going on with her son. She only knew of the changes to her son’s appearance and his slumber that followed after yours. 

You dressed in your uniform accompanied with your flight jacket. It’s been awhile since you flew on the back of Lenin and you missed the feeling of it all. If Sgaeyl and Xaden wanted to, you four can resume the early morning flights starting with this one explaining what happened to you and Lenin. Why everything was changing in a span of months…why everything after your death will be different. 

Walking felt a bit weird, your steps much lighter and your mind calmer. Yes, you spent months with your sister witches learning about your past. How you are one of the last witches with the ability to manipulate pure magic. Unlike the venin who take power from the earth, you are allowed to be attuned with it especially with the help from Leninach. 

He was the reason why you haven’t been going berserk before. He funneled the massive amount of magic from you into him then slowly back into you. Your output was much faster at a large rate and he was able to give it back to you at a consistent and small amount. 

But you possessed too much for him now. So your sisters gave you a solution. 

……

“I don’t understand,” You rubbed your temple with your fingers in small circles, “You’re saying my dragon can be my stable connection to my original power?” 

“Well yes,” Alani smiled, her dark curly hair reaching her hips with a sway. 

Then Rema spoke up with her arms crossed over her chest. Her colorless lips smacked with an attitude,  “Your dragon possesses much of your power now. He’s in his own slumber trying to control it. Seriously, how do you not know this?”

“She’s been in the dark, Rema,” Alani whined in your defense. 

“And we need you to come into the light,” Sera joined in on the conversation. Her bright green eyes flicked over to your hands which were painted in blood. Your blood after you held your own body as Xaden, who cradled your face in his neck. 

“What will happen to Lenin if he agrees to be my connection?” You asked, looking down at Xaden crying into your hair, whispering his begs for you to come back to him. His tears fell like the rain, harsh and unstoppable. 

“He becomes you and you become him,” Sera said this like it should have been obvious. But your mind was still reeling with questions. Yet she gave you a look that said, all in due time. She kneeled down next to the image of you and Xaden, her green eyes watching Xaden’s reaction to your heart slowing down. 

“This man loves you deeply, sister.”

Alani knelt down beside the older one and nodded her head ecstatically, “Oh yes, he does. The shadows all around him weep with him. The despair is all too heavy for him.”

Rema stood behind her sisters watching the scene unfold. While you tried your best not to cry with Xaden. You explained to them that Xaden is very important to you. Then you asked with complete interest, a twinge of familiarity in your bones,

“You guys can feel how he feels?” 

Alani nodded her head and reached out to Xaden. Her pale hand touched his cheek and she wiped away his tears that hadn’t stopped falling. She frowned at her poor attempt to help him and said, “Witches are attuned with everything around them. From the magic, to life and death, to the emotions clouding the judgement of others. If we try hard enough, we can hear certain thoughts too. It takes time and practice for it, but we’ll teach you. I normally don’t like looking into someone’s mind though. You can accidentally find something terrible.” 

A warning.

Alani looked up into your eyes and you knew you were right. She was warning you. 

“But searching through someone’s mind might help you in the long run,” Rema said. She uncrossed her arms and stepped over to you, “Like searching through a certain higher up’s mind can help you look for us.” 

“Although we need your dragon to help you,” Sera never moved her eyes away from Xaden, “and we need his help too. He becomes much more important later on. Leninach balances you and you will balance Xaden Riorson. It’s a complete triangle.”

“Okay,” You said breathlessly, “I need the full story. Why are we being hunted? Where are you guys?”

Rema and Alani both looked over at Sera, their eyes drawn to hers. Then Sera stood up, brushing her white flowy dress with her dainty hands. 

“Because the humans have figured out that we can power the wards. So they locked us up into a deep sleep and chained us to those wards. Most of our other sisters have died because while we can channel a great amount of power, we need our stable connection. All of us were fliers and when we asked Fen Riorson to help us…”

Sera faltered. Her expression is grim remembering the event of asking for help. 

“We gave him to you for safety precautions,” Rema began with a different starting point. 

“You were just a baby and the Mairis were the first ones to step up in raising you. [Name] you were meant to be a flier like the rest of us, but in order to save you from becoming like us, chained to a rock. We gave you up to the riders in hopes that you’ll save us later on and break us from the bonds that hold us. You are stronger than the rest of us. You can do anything.”

Alani jumped up and said, “Your death isn’t an ending, little one. It’s an awakening to your true power. You’ll be able to control it more and your dragon is your stable connection. Our gryphons were the stable connection, but after we were captured…we were forced to break the bond. We did it to save them despite their protests.” 

Witches have the power to break a bond. It sounds like they have the power to do anything. You couldn’t imagine doing such a thing to Lenin, but you would do it to save him from being chained with you to a ward. 

“How are you guys reaching out to me now?” 

Rema smacked her forehead with her palm in exasperation, “Little one, listen! We know you, you are our little sister. The youngest one in our covenant, alright? What kind of big sisters would we be if we didn’t protect or know where you are at all times? We’re the ones who gave you those daggers and I’m a tad bit upset you gave mine to that Sorrengail. It should have gone to Sloane.” 

“Violet earned it,” You bit back, defensive for your student-friend…person, “plus it was purple! Her name is Violet so it’s not that bad. I was being nice to her for once!”

Rema rolled her eyes and smacked her lips, “Had to let you know that, but that’s not the point. The point is we can only reach you in your dreams. This isn’t your doing, it’s ours. All three of us have reached out to one another then found you in Basgiath War College, specifically the Riders Quadrant. That’s when we knew your awakening was going to happen soon.” 

“Yep!” Alani pipped with a smile, “We almost thought you would have awoken in your first year! You had so many near death experiences, little one!” 

“Tell me about it,” You rolled your eyes and this earned chuckles from the trio. So far they’re not entirely emotionless. 

Then Sera spoke up, “Threshing had us holding our breaths. We couldn’t help ourselves, but provide you with some aid. Alani came up with the idea to blind them all by using the fog.”

The imagery around you changed. Xaden was no longer by your feet cradling your limp body. No, instead your sisters transported you to your Threshing. 

The fog around you as you walked with Rema’s dagger in your hand seemed natural. Until it didn’t when the first person attacked you from behind. It’s always so weird watching your past and your future in this way. 

“I knew something was weird about the fog, it became so dense in a matter of seconds,” You always knew you were an outstanding fighter. Everyone told you so, but it was different watching it yourself. The way you moved in the thickness of the fog with fluid moves. Rema’s dagger ends the lives around you with a bright purple glow. 

“You made Rema very proud by the way!” Alani giggled. 

“It’s our little sister kicking major ass with my dagger,” Rema countered with a smug smirk, “How could I not feel a sense of pride. I gotta hand it to Fen Riorson’s son for teaching you some moves. But we witches have the instinct to kill. Our eyes,” She points to her glowing golden ones, “can see so much better than humans. Then we can hear their thoughts which allows us to know their next moves before they make them.” 

You gawked then whispered, “That possessed feeling I had while killing Lara and her friends, that was my instinct to kill. The witch in me. It makes so much sense why I felt so powerful when Lenin finished Lara off. That was my initiation to my true power, my instinct to become what I was meant to be.”

Sera nodded in confirmation, “And when he agrees to become your stable connection, you two will be an unstoppable force. Lenin and [Name], Cloak and Dagger.” She slides her hands high in the air, the scenery changing once more. You can see the Riorson House before it fell and memories begin to flood into your mind. 

“Now then we should dive into the pact we made with Fen Riorson.”

Sera looked at you and said, “The same pact you will make with his son when all of this is over.” 

……

You did not realize how long you stood outside of Xaden’s room while you recounted your time with your sisters. Must have been awhile because Lenin snapped you out by asking you if you were going to knock or not. 

You blinked a couple of times, your “new” eyes scanning his door and you could actually see the magic that protected his room. Witches' eyes come pretty handy when you need it the most. But you already knew his room was protected. Much like yours and Violet’s. 

His warded room felt easy to penetrate and to do so allowed you to know if he was alone. You don’t think you’re up to talk to Garrick, Bodhi, Liam or Imogen. All you wanted to do was speak with Xaden and have him by your side while you explained your history. 

“You can accidentally find something terrible.”

Alani’s kind and warning voice stopped you from using your power. Your eyes went back to their normal blue and you knocked on his door twice with consistent pressure. Five beats of silence went by then his door clicked with the lock opening. 

“What is it now- [Name]?” Xaden looked down at you with surprise, and you looked up at him with a shy wave. 

“Hi.” 

You have no idea why you are acting shy all of  a sudden. 

“He loves you deeply, sister.” 

Now Sera’s voice was invading your mind and a blush creeped its way onto your cheeks. You wish you brought Alani’s dagger with you, the pink blade would have allowed you to fidget with something as you come up with a response. 

Xaden looked back into his room then closed the door behind him with a gentle swing of it. Then he looked back at you and his eyes softened in a way you haven’t seen it before. 

Regret. 

This feeling smacked into you like a train along with the other ones swarming in his chest and stomach; shame and guilt. You tried not to think about it too much and you went on to explain your presence. 

“I wanted to speak to you. I know I have been sleeping for a very long time now, but I think I know almost everything about me. About my signet and I want to explain to Sgaeyl too. With all that’s going on with Lenin. If I could just-” 

His door opened up behind him and a tired voice spoke behind the door as it slowly opened, “Xaden, what are you-” 

Your words died out in your throat and you moved to the side to catch a glimpse of silver. The way your heart dropped to the pit in your stomach almost had you stumbling back.  

“Breathe, Dagger,” Lenin hummed, his voice being the only thing grounding you right now, “Shadow can explain to you and you have to understand.” 

“Understand, what?” You bit back, the hurt in your voice evident. 

Violet Sorrengail. Xaden Riorson. You looked at the state of them. In your enamor, you didn’t notice the marks on his neck that he tried hiding. Or his swollen lips. Lips that kissed you with a desire so real, you thought he only could share with you. 

Yet there she stands wearing one of his shirts with her hair down. Violet looked beautiful. Xaden looked like he wanted to hide in his shadows. 

No one said a word. Either they were communicating with one another or they were truly speechless like you. Swallowing the rock in your throat, you zipped up your jacket and stuffed your hands in your pocket. 

Then you laughed awkwardly, “Uhm, so I just woke up from my coma. And Lenin has changed, appearance-wise. I just wanted a word with you, but you seemed very occupied. We can talk some other time.” 

“Let him explain,” Lenin warned you, so you complied. You forced your feet to stay planted and you can hear Sgaeyl speaking to Xaden in a threatening voice. But you didn’t dive further into his mind. 

“It’s the mating bond, [Name],” Xaden spoke slowly, hoping his words wouldn’t push you away. They didn’t, but they also did not help your aching heart. “Sgaeyl and Tairn haven’t had sex in a long time. In months. So when Lenin awoke and they knew he was okay, their feelings came in strong.” 

“So everytime they fuck, you two will have some fun too?” 

You couldn’t help the instant question, the hurt mixing in with your anger. Xaden knew you only lashed out because of this hurt. It pained him to see you like this. To find out this way. 

“No,” He said, “it’s happened before, yes. But we try not to let their feelings-” 

“That’s all I need to know, Xaden,” You said truthfully, looking away from him and ignoring the look on Violet’s face. The burning in your eyes and the swelling in your throat pained you, the heartbreak real enough to wish for something out loud. Stumping Violet and crushing Xaden. 

“My death cannot come soon enough.” 

Your bitter words angered your dragon and you blocked him out instantly. Lenin’s words of advice to hearing Xaden out did not help you in the long run. It only made you want to hurt him back. Before you could walk away, Xaden grabbed your wrist and tugged your hand out of your pocket. 

“Take it back.” 

He deepened his voice into a threat then used his other hand to force you to look up at him. You can see how your words affected him, but his actions disappointed you. His fingers dug into your jaw forcing you to lock eyes with his own. 

“You don’t mean that, [Name]. I know you don’t.” 

Of course, you didn’t. Did he have to know that? No. 

“It’s not hard to put your shields up, is it?” You asked, with tears clouding your vision, “You have no excuse, Riorson. I can forgive Violet for fucking my boyfriend. But I cannot forgive my boyfriend for letting his shields down to let himself indulge in a mating bond that isn’t his. Now let me go.”

“If I let you go, you won’t come back,” He whispered, your words wishing for your death damaged his heart. 

“You already did when you held her.” 

You raised your arms up and slammed them onto his forearms, his release on you didn’t come easily. Nonetheless you walked away with the tears finally falling down your face. It’s not fair. None of this is. 

Quickly, you cloaked yourself and hid from everyone as much as you could the entire day. Your mind was blocked out from your dragon for hours and you ignored his angry roars outside that demanded your attention. 

Until it was flight lessons time. 

When you walked out with your cloak down, Imogen looked at you wearily as she stood next to Glane with her arms crossed. No dragon or human came close to standing next to Lenin whose throat bubbled up with a daunting growl. 

Everyone knew that Lenin was pissed and you weren’t doing any better. Yet you opened the side of your bond and let’s just say you will never, ever close Lenin off again. 

“How dare you close me off!”

He leaned his head down to the floor and roared at you, the force of it making your unzipped flight jacket flutter in his rage. 

“After everything I sacrificed for you!” Lenin snapped his jaws in your direction, “I changed for you!” 

“You think I wanted this for you!” 

You angrily gestured to his white patchy scales that dotted his normal midnight blue color. You can understand why every dragon looked at him differently now. One of his eyes was different too, colored lilac while the other one remained golden. 

He slammed his wings onto the floor, dust rising up in clouds of fury. Everyone looked in your direction, but you or Lenin did not mind. Too engaged in the heated argument between one another. 

“Lenin, this should be my burden to carry. Not yours, it never should have been yours!” 

“Yet here I stand,” He snapped again, “carrying the weight with you.”

You bit your lip, heavy thoughts clouding your mind. Why are you punishing Lenin for making you listen to the truth? He’s always been there for you, listening to you and supporting you. 

“-you two will be an unstoppable force. Lenin and [Name]. Cloak and Dagger.” 

Again, the reasonable voice, Sera spoke inside your mind. Reminding you that Lenin is your stable connection to your power. Then you felt a warm breath lingering over you and a heavy push making you stumble back a few steps. 

Lenin’s growls lowered in pitch and turned into a hum and you jumped onto his snout, giving him an apology. You missed his comforting warmth. 

“Lenin, I am so sorry. I know you are doing a lot for me. And you said that these changes to your body are different, but your mind is still the same. I-I cannot say the same myself. All these thoughts, knowing what’s going to happen to me.” 

“We can change your fate, Dagger,” Lenin chuffed, “You are a powerful witch. You can change the tides in any battle the way you see fit. And I will do anything to save you, to keep you as my rider.”

His promise melted your sad thoughts and you looked up, noticing that your arms don’t usually hug him like normal. Then you hopped off of him seeing him in his patchy glory,

“You’re bigger than your father, Lenin.” 

“Now you notice.” 

You can feel the sarcasm radiating off his body. But you let it pass with a goofy smile on your face. 

“Was sure that Lenin had thoughts of eating you,” Imogen walked up to you cautiously, her dragon following behind her with her head down. As a show of respect for Lenin. 

You forgot that Glane and Lenin were involved in some moments which influenced you and Imogen your first year. Now the guilt for blaming Xaden haunted you. Although you two weren’t exclusive your first year. Plus Lenin and Glane haven’t formed a mating bond yet. 

“With all his anger, you’d think he would have stormed the college,” You joked back with her and Imogen finally engulfed you in a hug. She squeezed you tightly and said, “Damn, I’ve missed you. I’m also happy that Lenin is awake, Glane was nonstop worried about him.” 

Glane snapped her neck down, puffing out her chest in a defensive way while Lenin…was that some kind of purr? He let out a noise that sounded like amusement, but you can feel him more now. It was…

“Lenin, you’re in love with Glane?” You asked, curiosity close to killing you. 

“Say that out loud and I will eat you.” 

You nervously laughed and nodded your head, “What does she think of his new color? And size?” 

Imogen knew what you were getting at and she couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Yeah, you were screwed once flight lessons started. 

……

“I heard [Name] fell off her dragon’s back seven times during flight lessons.” 

“Maybe her coma affected her.” 

“Could be, but she told the menders she was okay when they visited her.” 

“Her dragon is definitely paying her back for something then.” 

……

^^ this is how MC be spinning her knife btw

ησтє: don't worry everyone! y'all decided, Xaden will be the ONE AND ONLY ONE FOR MC. however I had to make things a bit complicated with them. I am a sucker for angst before fluff.

and yes, I'm making you a witch, a baby witch with slow understanding of your powers but you got a covenant of sisters helping you. fun!

Lenin's in looovvveeeeeeee

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬: @luvly-writer @blueeclipsepaperstudent @honethatty12 @poeticbookwormcat @cheappremingerfromdelululand @eep500 @littlepippilongstocking @86laura11 @lxnvmvrzx @what-will-be-your-verse @sheblogs @fangirling-galore @callsigns-haze @side-angel @faeofthemoonandstars @jesschalamet @abysshaven @bisexualbitchsgotass @books-hlmc @r0sluvs @galaxystern08 @bwormie @littleemissperfecttt @lagrandeourse @steph-fowlie

[galene-gothic]

SCAMS, KINDNESS AND VALUE OF MONEY & SERVICE

Hello everyone, I’m not much of a blogger besides tarot but recently, I feel the need to share my thoughts about whatever the title says. I grew up in a poor family with a single mother. I was fortunate enough to have been able to go to a fairly prestigious school until the tenth grade after which I had to drop out due to my sister being extremely sick and my mother struggling to make ends meet. That’s when I started this blog. I was able to complete my +2 through online education due to your assistance and my own hard work. Those who liked and reblogged my posts helped my current clients find me, and many of them purchase from me as loyal customers even to this day which I’m obviously very grateful for. I haven’t even been able to start university yet because I’ve been taking care of my family financially which means working as a full time tarot reader for now. I’m only 19 going on 20 this year so I think that while I should not take any time for granted, I also don’t stress out unnecessarily about education because I am more focused on what I’m currently doing for now i.e. making money, strengthening skills and saving money. Seeing all my batchmates being able to go to school while I was not able to used to break my heart back then.

I was scared of being seen, of being asked what I was doing because what was I supposed to say? That my mother couldn’t afford to educate me any longer? People aren’t very sensitive when it comes to other’s struggles and I was not interested in giving them anything to underestimate me for. At some point, I started getting sick a lot due to my declining mental health but my former best friend told me that I would struggle less if I accepted things as they were and I managed to do so. It’s unfortunate that my mother got sick as well. She needs blood every six months but for the rest of the six months, she’s more or less okay except for weakness but I never once asked for huge donations or anything of that sort. Maybe it was pride, maybe it was overestimation or just a lack of faith in humanity but I felt like I would just provide service that would be valued and earn money through it to look after myself, and my family. I do not want you to take this as a sob story because I’m mentally and emotionally doing pretty well, and am really grateful plus always have clients wanting to purchase from me. My point is that while it’s okay to ask for donations and offer them, you should ask for proof, and if anything doesn’t add up, you’re allowed to not want to donate because your money is valuable and while kindness, and humanity are important, that money could do better in a place where it’s actually needed.

There are many scammers who victimise themselves in order to loot your money. If someone is able to provide a service, they can try and earn their lot. In fact, they should. You’ll be doing them a favour because how long are they going to survive off donations? At some point, they need to learn how to not be a victim of circumstances. I didn’t mention it earlier but I’m speaking as someone who was physically, mentally and emotionally abused as a child because my mother didn’t really have an emotional punching bag nor a companion. She probably felt like she lost her youth raising her children and resented us for it. I didn’t want to speak on this because healthcare is something that everyone deserves and I’m all for kindness. I found it very dramatic and sketchy that a single person was claiming to have multiple issues including, physical abuse, sexual abuse, chronic illnesses and injuries but decided not to question it much because there was a point during which everything was falling apart in my life as well and I needed empathy, support, and kindness and didn’t even have the strength to reach out for it but it breaks my heart that there are people who work on a single reading for several days and even weeks if they’re on the longer side just for someone else to get all that money for free because of a sob story of theirs.

I understand that accusations hurt and my post is not intended to hurt anyone but I would like for the accused reader to post or DM proof i.e. the medical papers alongside an official identification certificate or card of some sort and simply just be transparent about what it is that is going on. I am not interested in accusing someone who claims to be sick but if you’re asking for financial assistance from those on the app and the community, I hope and believe that you understand why you owe it to them to be transparent, to simply provide any sort of proof. For me, I wouldn’t have been posting this but hearing someone say that their illness can’t be treated in UK when it’s at least the top twenty countries when it comes to healthcare is what got to me. I come from India and it is a developing country where healthcare services are lacking so I’m not trying to offend anyone, I’m just saying that if anyone is receiving money from others, they owe them proof and transparency. Plus, if it is a scam, those who truly deserve and need these donations won’t get it, and it will be difficult for us to trust such calls for help in the future. Continue supporting causes but you’re not a villain for wanting tangible proof first because the money you donate is either your own or someone else’s hard earned money. Let’s deal with this situation level headedly with compassion as well as reasoning. Thank you for reading. Much love and take care 🫶🏻.

[mountainsandmayhem]

Maid Discreetly - Chapter Two

Tommy Miller x Female OC - 18+

Story Summary: After what he did to your best friend, fuck Joel Miller and the horse he rode in on! But a twist of fate has you falling for his brother, who is also your dad’s friend. Oh, and did you mention that you hate him? Can love really conquer all, or should you just settle for kinky hot sex with an older man? Chapter Summary: You and Tommy go about your everyday lives and try not to think about your unfortunately first encounter AN: Trigger warnings are underneath the cut in small red letters to avoid spoilers. Please remember to follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates for all future chapters. Thank you SO MUCH for all the love on Chapter One, there's so much in store for these two cutie pies! Divders by @saradika-graphics. As always thank you to @lotusbxtch and @for-a-longlongtime for helping me expand on my ideas and add all my punctuation xo. WC: 3k

Story Masterlist || My Masterlist || Joel and Kim

CW: female character is fully developed OC, so are her friends; mutual pining; dirty talk (Tommy has a filthy mouth); dick pronouns; blow job/throat fucking; sub/dom dynamics; aftercare; name calling (but hot)

You

It’s been exactly fourteen days, sixteen hours and fifteen minutes since your unfortunate encounter with Tommy - not that you’ve been counting. You’ve allowed his deep voice to play over and over in your mind more times than you care to admit. 

“You know, sweetheart, your little tantrum would be much more believable if you weren’t undressing me with your eyes.”

You most definitely were not undressing him with your eyes. You thought he was Joel for fuck’s sake, and that goes against every code in the girl friendship handbook. However, once you learned he wasn’t Joel…well, you’d be lying if you didn’t admit that you weren’t sneaking glances his way throughout the night.

Like it or not, Tommy Miller is an incredibly attractive man; dark curly hair, expressive russet brown eyes and high cheekbones. It was too dark in the room to be sure, but you thought you saw a cluster of freckles across his nose and cheeks. His thick moustache was neatly trimmed, sitting perfectly above his plush lips. He gave off cowboy-meets-white-collar vibes. Granted, based on how broad he is and the way his suit jacket was hanging on by a goddamn thread around his biceps, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had been a cowboy at one point in his life. Your stomach flips at the thought of him in a cowboy hat. Even a bonafide city girl like yourself knows when a man looks like he can throw around a bale of hay.

Complete and total prick, you remind yourself, as you adjust your rearview mirror of your Bently before pulling out of your parking space at work. I am probably old enough to be his daughter. Who says something like that to someone that much younger? 

You push Tommy out of your mind and shift your focus on the summer ahead as you drive. Kim is positively thriving in California. She’s been cleaning for two of your dad’s very well-connected friends. Based on last month’s customer survey results, they’ve spread the word and have friends who are interested in hiring her, but Kim doesn’t have time with school and internships to take on anyone else. Austin is great for business, but California could be a literal jackpot for Maid Discreetly - celebrities, athletes, politicians, CEO’s; a plethora of potential clients who would benefit from a service like your dad’s. As much as you were hoping for a summer with her, you understand her staying in California for a summer law internship. That leaves just you, your cousin Laren, and Ophelia.

Laren has been busy planning her upcoming wedding while secretly running her topless catering company. Her father, who is your mom’s brother, is still very active in the church and expects the same level of devotion from his children. While they think she’s just an event planner, she’s actually so much more. You wonder if Sean, her husband-to-be, knows what she truly does for a living, and, if not, will she tell them once they’re married and living together? It still blows your mind that your uncle is so old-school that he won’t allow Laren and Sean to live together until after their wedding. 

Ophelia was always more Kim’s friend, seeing as they lived off campus together during college. After losing her spot as Miss Texas, and not having any of her modeling contracts renewed because of it, she decided to go to college and is now in her final year of business school. 

You turn the dial on your AC, blasting the cool air as you pull onto the freeway. June has come in hot, literally. It’s unseasonably warm, which usually means it’ll be a dry summer and the whole city will panic when the clouds finally decide to bless us with rain. Luckily, both you and Laren have pools at home, and your family is connected enough to have a summer pass at The Wayback hotel’s Cabana Club, so you and your friends are going to be nice and cool. 

Laren convinced you to take off early today and meet at the hotel. It’s a short drive from your downtown office, tucked into the hills of Austin, and feels like you’re on vacation while being in your own city’s backyard. You pull into the valet, hand your keys to someone who barely looks old enough to drive and meet Laren in the lobby. After changing into your swim attire, you both head out to two reserved chairs. 

“Fuck, this is nice,” Laren whispers under her breath as she unties the sheer black wrap from her waist, now just in a neon pink tie bikini. She already has a golden brown hue to her skin. 

“Beyond nice. I think we should do some networking here,” you respond, looking around at the wealth that seems to be dripping off of most of the people. Wives soak in the vitamin D in small swimsuits, the men beside them in linen dress pants and white button up shirts, their eyes glued to a phone or laptop screen. You note the few men who aren’t completely focused on their devices, sneaking glances at the women they are with. It’s quite likely that they are a mistress or inappropriately young girlfriend instead of a wife.  

Laren practically melts into her fluffy white pool chair. “Speak for yourself. I’m here to forget about work. Honestly, if I was you and knew I was going to have access to a forty million dollar trust fund on my twenty-fifth birthday, I wouldn’t have half the work ethic you do.” 

You shush your cousin and shoot her a glare as you dig through your Stella McCartney tote for your sunscreen; the last thing you need is everyone here knowing who you are. Growing up, your last name was a burden. Kids in your public school were pushed towards you by their parents, everyone wanting to be friends with the rich girl. When you moved to private school, you were looked down upon as the “public school trash” until everyone learned your last name. Being an awkward teenager is hard enough without debutante balls and boys being introduced to you as potential suitors. You’re grateful for it now, and recognize all the opportunities it has opened for you, but having the last name you do is a weight on your shoulders. The only child, the namesake, somehow expected to carry on a legacy. 

You slide back on your chair, applying sunblock to your legs. “I’m hoping if I bring in clients, my dad will finally let me take on more responsibility. Kim is going to crush it in California, I know she will, which means my parents are going to have to spend more time there to hire a staff and bring in more clients. I want to take over in Austin.” 

Laren reclines her chair and sighs. “Babe, you’re going to take over. You are the most qualified person to do so when your dad is ready.” 

You rub some of the coconut scented SPF into your chest as you speak. “I know. I just want to show him that I can do it now. I’m sick of being his daughter who does just the hiring and training, ya know?” 

“Hey,” Laren sits up and squeezes your knee gently so you’ll look at her. “Without you, none of those houses would get cleaned to the standards they do. Which means your dad wouldn’t be able to charge out the nose. You are so much more than just hiring and training.”

 You click the cap of the sunscreen closed and place it on the small wicker table between you and Laren. “Deep down I know that, but there’s a very real part of me that feels like my dad is going to marry me off and give the job to the husband that he’s deemed worthy.”

Laren doesn’t know all the details and stipulations around your trust fund. Fuck, you aren’t even sure you know every little piece of fine print. The three things you’ve always been told are a college degree, being at least twenty-five years of age, and your nuptials must be approved by your dad. You’re nowhere near marriage, but you are dangerously close to the minimum age.

 Does this mean I won't get access to my trust fund soon? Or can my dad just take it away if I marry someone he doesn’t feel is up to his standards? The questions run rampant in your mind. You make a mental note to talk to your mom about it.

Laren uses her free hand to slide her sunglasses down her nose, a line of concern between her brows, “Did your dad say that?”

You sigh, laying back on your chair and rolling your head to look at her. “He didn’t have to.”

Rage flares behind her eyes. Luckily, she keeps her voice quiet as she says, “Did your piece of shit ex tell you that?”

A deep breath fills your lungs and you shake your head, “No, like I said, it’s just a feeling.”

As you lounge back in your chair you swallow hard, trying not to think about Preston. It’s been a few months since you ended things with him. The relief you felt when he walked out of your bedroom that night was like taking a breath of fresh air for the first time, but the words he said throughout your three year relationship still linger. 

She follows your lead and settles back in her chair, turning her face up to the sun. “That loser did a real number on you, didn’t he?”

“Unfortunately,” you deadpan, following it with a humourless laugh. You let out a slow, relaxing breath, forcing all the thoughts of him out and then focus on the warmth of the sun splashing across your skin. Slowly, the heat of the day turns your muscles into goo. It’s quiet between the two of you for a few minutes before Laren snickers. 

“What’s so funny?” you murmur, rolling your head towards her.

“I just still can’t believe you yelled at Tommy Miller at that gala.” She says with a laugh.

You swat her arm before rolling onto your stomach. “Shut up.” 

“Sorry, I just hate that I missed it. Plus, he’s so fucking handsome. I’m surprised you don’t remember him from that poker game. Fuck, I would have loved to see him all dressed up.”

“He’s abhorrent.” You say, holding back a smile.

Laren snickers again, “Whatever helps you sleep at night, babe.”

Tommy 

“Get me hard. Suck on him,” he practically growls at the woman kneeling in front of him as he twists his hand into her hair. He has a full window of onlookers at JMKink tonight, just the way he likes it. 

Kya is a new sub to him; she pays him for an hour every other week and this is their second session together. The first one went really well, but of course it did; the algorithm that JMKink uses in their app wouldn’t pair them up if they didn’t have complimentary kinks. She likes to be dominated and, like Tommy, wants people to watch. Tommy is the reason that you can open the windows of the rooms available to rent. It’s optional, lots of people keep them closed, but if you want the members of the club in the dark voyeur room on the opposite side of the glass to watch, all you do is pull open the thick black blind. You can also choose if you want them to be able to hear what’s happening; Tommy always allows for both. 

He doesn’t agree with all the rules that come with being a member, mainly the one that states condoms must be worn. Tommy loves watching his cum leak out of freshly fucked pussy just as much as he loves being watched. Him, Joel, and Tess have discussed the rule again and again, and even with the required test results, and everything happening in the club being consensual, it’s just too risky. But, his business partners have agreed that when he finds a sub that he has the right chemistry with, Tommy can have paid performances that can be condom free. This is not that night though.  

Tonight, Kya specifically asked for her throat to be fucked after being edged. In fact, she requested for him to not let her come at all. After almost forty minutes of him bringing her to the brink of orgasm only to stop, he uncuffed her from the wall and told her to crawl to him. He knew the rub of her thighs as she crawled would only further add to her torture; it would feel good but wouldn’t be the right angle or pressure to let her come. Now, she has her impossibly soft lips wrapped around his cock, her skin sparkling with sweat as she suckles on the fat tip of his dick, her lips vibrating with each of her moans. Kya is one of the most beautiful subs Tommy has ever had, and stuff like this usually has Tommy hard as steel, but something feels off tonight. 

“Keep going, little slut,” he practically spits, trying to get himself there mentally. He closes his eyes and a flash of the brunette that told him off at the gala last week appears. Subtle curves, curious eyes, her matte red lips that he wants to smear his cum all over to make them glisten. His cock twitches at the thought, his hips flexing forward. He hears a gagging sound before he pulls his hips back, imagining that red lipstick staining his cock. 

“Look so fuckin’ pretty on your knees for me,” he whispers, a small giggle fills his ears before he pistons his hips forward and opens his eyes. Kya is absolutely stunning, there’s no reason he should have to fantasize about anything, or anyone, when he’s with her. So why is he fighting from closing his eyes and picturing you again?

Insanity, or witchcraft. He thinks to himself, trying to find a reason. Witchcraft, you’re an idiot, Tommy. Fuck, I must be going insane.

Tommy rocks his hips back and forth, and Kya is the perfect sub; hollowing her cheeks and letting the salvia fall from her lips, coating his cock as he fucks her mouth in slow, deep strokes. “Moan for me,” he commands, letting his lashes fall to his cheeks.

Kya moans, and there you are again. In this daydream, he has you on your back; one leg up on his shoulder, the other spread wide for him. He pushes in and out of your tight pussy a few times, watching your eyes go hooded before he sits up, kissing the ankle of the foot still propped on his shoulder. His eyes trail down your body; soft breasts bouncing with each thrust, his gaze burning a path down your stomach, landing to where his body meets yours. His mouth waters at the way your pussy glistens with need. It’s intoxicating and carnal, yet so soft and beautiful - he wants to taste you so badly. That’s when he shatters, opening his eyes to watch as his cum leaks from Kya’s mouth.

“Don’t swallow yet, filthy girl. Not until you show us,” he says through gritted teeth. The moment his orgasm is done he slides his cock free. He’s already soft, which is another thing that never happens to him.

Ya, I’ve slipped into insanity for sure!

“Open,” he commands. Kya opens her mouth and he leans forward and spits. With a nod towards the viewing window he says, “Show them.”

She turns her head towards the onlookers and he watches the way she squeezes her thighs together. This should be making Tommy absolutely feral, yet, it doesn’t. Staying in his dominant character, he grips his hand around her throat. “Eyes on me while you swallow, little cum princess.”

She plays her part equally well, keeping those dark brown eyes locked with his as she swallows, licks her lips and then swallows again. His dick doesn’t as much as budge; if anything, Tommy thinks it may have gotten smaller.

 Dude, what is wrong with you tonight? He says in his mind towards his cock.

“Thank you, sir,” Kya hums.

Tommy slides his thumb along her bottom lip gently, his voice softer now and just for her, “Can you get to the bed on your own while I close the curtain?”

She nods her head and smiles sweetly at him. He helps her stand and once he’s sure her legs are steady, he heads to the window. A few of the fellow exhibitionists give him a thumbs up before he shuts them out to do his aftercare in private with Kya. He pushes you out of his mind, focusing on getting some sugar into Kya and then pulls her into his arms. The two of them speak in quiet whispers as he checks in on her. 

“How are you feeling?”

She smiles up at him. “Really good. Thank you. I definitely needed this.”

“Good,” he says with a nod. “I have this room for a few hours so we can stay like this as long as you need. I need you to promise me you’ll call me if something changes, okay? I know what we did tonight can be a lot.”

“I promise,” she mutters, her eyelids getting heavy.

After a few more minutes of cuddling she pulls away from him and says she’s ready to go. Once they’re both dressed Tommy walks her out to the main area of the club, the two of them embrace in a tight hug before she leaves and he goes to his reserved booth. The second he’s alone he’s lost in thoughts of the girl from the gala. This isn’t the first time he’s been consumed by you, every quiet moment he has he finds himself thinking of you, of the things he should have said. Flirting and wooing women is easy for him, it always has been, but someone with quick wit and the ability to banter with him isn’t something that comes along often. 

That’s got to be what has me so turned around, he thinks to himself. It’s safer that she remains a fantasy, safer that I don’t know her name, safer that I can’t search for her and find out if she likes all of the things I do. 

[katyspersonal]

HENRIETT APPRECIATION POST

Tbh I am always delighted by how much Henriett has going on about her without a single line of lore or dialogue attached!

She uses Kirkhammer and Repeating Pistol, both of which are weapons of the Healing Church hunters. But at the same time, she is a summon against Amelia, Ludwig and Laurence! Whereas Gold Pendant reveals that people within the Healing Church are aware about their clerics turning into the most terrifying kind of beasts and are prepared to hunt them down, Hunter Set that she is wearing suggests that her motivation must be not to simply put out former authorities out of misery!

This set is inspired by fashion of Old Hunters but forged long past their glory days, as a tribute or a distant memory. That makes her the second confirmed hunter who used to hunt for the Healing Church but abandoned it, next to Gascoigne! Gehrman learned from the passing dreaming hunters that Healing Church has since forgotten about the hunt, so this set suggests not only honoring the old ways, but a sort of disagreement with the current politics of the Healing Church to block away from the commoners and let them fend for themselves. At the same time, despite being called 'Old Hunter', Henriett is certainly young! That and her clothing only resembling fashion of the past makes it very likely that actual Old Hunters that remained, such as Gascoigne, Henryk or Eileen, could've been her mentors! The only other character wearing this set is "default" Hunter, and even they simply adopt this fashion after arriving in Yharnam. (Funny enough, they mirror Henriett; she has a variant with cape and a top hat, when Hunter has variant without cape and with a cap!)

Henriett also has an interesting parallel with Alfred, who also clings to the glorious bygone times of the hunt, but in a different ways. Henriett follows the ways of the Gehrman's kind of hunters, but Alfred aspires for what the hunts led by Ludwig and Logarius were like. Both characters live in the past, however, Henriett opened her eyes to how rotten the Healing Church has became and *always* has been, when all Alfred could possibly criticize their corrupt institution for is that they don't kill enough "impure" and "heretical" people along with the beasts anymore... Perhaps, beyond their interests having the same core, they've had a bad falling out based on the following split of their ideologies. Something similar can be said about Adella, and, possibly, Amelia.

Interestingly enough, there is an unused data with her corpse. Bloody Crow of Cainhurst unexplainably uses Repeating Pistol same as her instead of a Cainhurst weapon, he is found in the Grand Cathedral where Henriett earlier helped to fight Amelia, and Henriett's next destination (Hunter's Nightmare) is only available after nightfall / defeat of Amelia. This all can suggest that the original intention was that *he* killed Henriett, and she is a prisoner of the Hunter's Nightmare curse afterwards! Why did she pick the fight with Bloody Crow at all? Was she trying to avenge Viola or Eileen? Had he started it based on her past as Healing Church hunter? Was she enraged at his ways and wanted to protect the honor of the fallen blood drunk hunters whose spirits he kinda-sorta defiles by stealing them and wanting to use them in weird blood heir rituals? (At the very least, he certainly stole her weapon...)

On this, the potential of her conflicts with fellow hunters doesn't end, as summoning her in Hunter's Nightmare against Laurence or Ludwig prevents summoning both Valtr or younger Madaras and vice-versa. Maybe she did not appreciate Valtr generalizing everyone and knew that even in the Healing Church there were people worthy of protection, but he, in turn, declared her an "enemy" and not having "truly" broken ties with her past as part of the problem. Or his obsession with exterminating the "impurity" uncomfortably reminded her of Alfred, Adella and other people she no longer wished to side with. Or him declaring war on virtually the humanity itself reeked of passive blood-drunkness and was not how a hunter should be in her eyes. But sure, much older and experienced hunters could condemn her for being naive and think they know better than someone who only knows what Old Hunters are from the stories!

In any case, it is interesting how many conflicts, friendships and complicated relationships she logically has! From everything we know, she is one of the people very involved in the current events and cast of the characters we meet on our way, not to mention how she seems to have solid and understandable principles. The fact that all of this flows through 100% nonverbal means is just amazing imo

[22ayla21]

If you're still doing the sweet stories intoxicating feelings event, can you do a Lilia Vanrouge with Terimisu and Sparkling champagne?

"Tiramisu and Sparkling Champagne"

Event: "Sweet Stories, Effervescent Feelings"

Love doesn't always arrive with fanfare and loud declarations. Sometimes, it creeps in quietly, like a morning mist, weaving itself into life with whispered care, light touches, a gaze full of warmth. That's how it was with them.

He was a soldier. A general. A man who had lived through centuries, bloodshed, and sleepless nights under the rustle of bat wings and the screech of magic. She, on the other hand, was just a woman. Not from fairy tales, not from legends. Just someone who stayed by his side one day, even when he, without even noticing, had pushed away half the world.

The love between them blossomed slowly. Like a dessert that takes hours to prepare. Layer by layer: trust, resentment, forgiveness, tenderness, stubbornness, care. Their feelings were like an exquisite tiramisu – multi-layered, deep, intoxicating. First – cautious interest. Then – the admission that even an immortal could be afraid of being misunderstood. Then – pain. He couldn't offer her an ordinary life. And finally – acceptance. She hadn't asked for anything ordinary anyway.

Every evening by her side became a new discovery. He watched her drink tea, read a book with a serious face, grumble if he came back late, and couldn't help but smile. In every word of hers, there was softness. In every glance – home. He didn't believe in miracles, but being with her made him wonder if they might exist after all.

And she? She loved everything about him. Even what others called cruelty. To her, he wasn't a general, not a fairy of war, not a being who had lived for centuries. To her, he was the one who slept nestled against her shoulder, hiding from the sun's rays. The one who complained about a tired back. The one who managed to burn the omelet trying to make her breakfast. The one who scared Silver or Sebek.

Their love was like champagne – sparkling, playful, unexpected. She laughed when he suddenly appeared with a sprig of lilac behind his ear and said:

"For you. So you don't forget how irresistible I am."

She was surprised when he brought her a bird's nest he'd found on a walk, explaining: "Everything about our home is in it – warmth, fragility, care."

Evenings with him were like fireworks. Sometimes they argued until they were hoarse, but made up in embraces. Sometimes they were silent, but the silence wasn't heavy. It felt full. Like the last sip of good wine – tartness, fire, and peace.

One day, as summer rain pattered against the window, they sat in armchairs by the fireplace. She was reading, he was running his fingers through her hair.

"You know," she said suddenly, "you're like tiramisu. First, a little bitter, coffee-like and cool. Then – rich, viscous. And then – tender, the kind you don't want to let go of."

He laughed:

"And you're my champagne. Not a day goes by without your bubbles. Even when we're just silent."

And indeed, she was his sunny morning. His celebration. His effervescent "today." He, who had lived in "yesterday" for so long, learned to live in the present for the first time.

Love isn't always passion. Not always loud vows. More often, it's a quiet "I'm home" and tea at midnight. It's laughter, sudden as the pop of a cork. It's tiramisu made together – maybe not perfect, but made with love.

And in this multi-layered, sparkling, crazy cocktail called "life," they found the most important ingredient – each other.

[natsnerd]

Whimpers

Trigger warning: Mentions of wrists being cut, mentions of blood, Mean nat slightly, mentions of stockholm syndrome

Word count: 462

____________________________________________

You woke up, a soft whimper falling from your lips as your eyes started adjusting to the dark, confusion filled your mind as you tried to move but couldn't, soft clicking sounds anytime you attempted to move your wrists, ‘this isn't the library’ you think as you desperately try to move but your arms bound by chains.

A soft scared whimper comes from your lips as you try look around, the walls have water damage, the floor looks rundown and disgusting, the bed is lumpy as if the mattress hasn't been changed in many years 

Soft whimpers continuing leaving you as you try to fight against the restraints and get out, your chest rising and falling rapidly as your fear takes over, ‘Where am I?!’ ‘Who did this?!’ Where the two main thoughts in your mind as your wrists started to bleed from how the metal caught on your wrist.

A soft disapproving hum came from the air, confusion filled you, you weren't alone

“The first day of being kidnapped and already trying to escape, tsk” the voice comes again, her disappointment and disapproval so obvious in her tone

Harsh footsteps approached the bed causing your heart to drop down to your stomach, trying to hide itself as if it felt as much fear as you did

A band gripped your chin and yanked your head up causing your neck to strain, a soft but cold breath brushed over your ear, “Don't worry, pup, you'll learn to love it here soon enough, I'll make sure you never want to leave me” She chuckles softly as your skin pales.

Her hand gripped your wrist harshly and yanked it forward, you cried out in pale as the metal slices into you, “So messy” She mutters in amusement as she releases your wrists, your first instinct was to pull your chest and protect it but her grip made that impossible for you, “Dont be difficult detka, I want to clean your wounds, no need for them to get infected and kill you before I can fuck that pretty pussy of yours” She mutters in your ear as she wraps an arm around your waist, lifting you onto her hip, your feet still bound, ‘what was happening’ you thought to yourself, ‘I want to go home…’ 

Natasha carried you to the bathroom, not turning on a light so your senses wouldn't adjust, she wanted you to feel scared, vulnerable, alarmed, she wanted that fear, if she had it, she could turn it into love, stockholm syndrome, 

Stockholm syndrome is a psychological coping mechanism that can develop in hostages and kidnapping victims, causing them to form a positive bond with their captors. They rationalise abuse, grow attached, even love their captors, 

It was perfect, just like her.

[lostintransist]

Miss Missy is Missed

@miss-vanta-likes-to-write 😘😘 I diverged from the plan slightly but I hope her story doesn't disappoint. Divider credits: @/thecutestgrotto

MDNI 18+ CW: nipple play, body worship, praise kink discovery, cunnilingus, fingering, P in V (wrap to tap), pregnancy

One night a month Missy could cut loose. One. And this…asshole jerk shit smear man would not leave her alone. She had tried three times to politely end the monologue he was subjecting her to and get back to her friends.

She had a cute face. It got her into too many damn situations she couldn’t easily talk her way out of. The leather strapless body suit she had laced into place pushed her small breasts to their best viewing place and covered everything to her ankles. Missy didn’t wear any necklaces today. Instead, she chose to show off her smattering of tiny sparkle and moon tattoos that covered her shoulders like stardust. They went well will her space buns and hoops that brushed her neck as she turned her head.

Before the fourth time of trying to make a graceful exit, a hand appeared on the bar between them. Glancing from the ringless left hand to the face attached to it Missy was taken a bit back by the beautiful man who smiled at her. He winked before turning over his shoulder. She couldn’t tell the color of his eyes in the dim of the club but even under the various flashing lights, the warm brown of his skin ticked a box they had in common.

“Thanks for keeping her company.” Turning back to her he smiled again, the soft movement of his cheeks made Missy want to reach out and pinch them. “Ready to go find a table?”

Eyeing him, suspicious of his motives, but in a desperate need to escape the man who had effectively trapped her at the bar, Missy grabbed her drink.

“After you,” Missy offered with a smile.

Always with a smile. Can’t have anyone who might be mad about a recent article snapping a photo of her being angry.

“Next time,” the unnamed man settled a hand at the small of her back, lightly directing, inviting her to move with him. “You can be mean and tell him to fuck off.”

Missy laughed, “No, men can say fuck off. I’m supposed to be cute until someone saves me, so thanks!”

She patted him on the chest and moved past to rejoin her friends. Missy didn’t make it two steps before the fingers on hers had her turning back.

“I didn’t catch your name,” his eyes are pressing into her as if his gaze carried weight. “I’m Kyle.”

Lifting her fingers to shoulder height, Missy squeezed Kyle’s hand once.

“I didn’t throw it, but you can call me Mychael. Have a good night, Kyle.”

He let her go this time, but Missy could feel his eyes tracing over her curves. Doctors would call her overweight but since she was neither white nor a man she would never fit into the tiny boxes medicine said she needed to exist in. Life got better after she moved out of her parent’s house and could learn to embrace not being thin like her mother.

Sliding into the booth next to her friends, Crystal caught her eye from across the table.

“What was that about?” Crystal’s eyes glanced to where Missy could only assume Kyle still watched.

Rolling her eyes Missy took a sip of her drink to give herself a second to think.

“My cute ass gets saved from creepy men again.”

“And what about the cute ass you left behind?” Crystal lifts a well-formed brow.

“What about it? Yeah, he was cute but you and I both know a cute face won’t move me,” Missy taps a nail against the tabletop, “Specially not with Addie at home. I can’t take risks like that anymore.”

“Didn’t Angela tell you to not worry about hurrying home?” Crystal tilted her head as if to say, take advantage of your free night.

Missy sipped her drink. Kyle was fit. The stretch of his short-sleeved shirt around his biceps spoke to a man who knew how to work.

“You know what, Crystal? I am going to cut loose for one damn night. But if I don’t get an orgasm out of this, I am blaming you.”

Crystal burst out in laughter, nearly spitting her fruity drink across the table.

Taking a fortifying swallow of her drink, Missy glanced around the bar; she located him. Kyle laughed with a man who even across the bar she could tell had committed to a full mohawk. Catching Kyle’s eye, she crooked a finger at him.

Kyle lifted a brow. At Missy’s nod, he slapped his friend on the shoulder and wandered over.

“You in need saving again?” His eyes sparkled in the flashing lights as he peered down at Missy.

“In fact I am. Do you dance?” Missy stood, pushing her drink to the center of the table.

“Well.” Kyle’s eyes drifted down her body and back up, “There are a lot of things I do well.”

“Easy there, let’s see if you can keep up before you start dreaming up scenarios where I end up face down,” Missy smirked.

Damn, man could dance. He took the lead, hands caressing Missy in a way that hinted at more. By the third song, Missy could feel her panties starting to chafe with how wet they had become. Snatching up her purse, she met Kyle at the front door. Crystal got a text and a confirmation that Missy’s location was on and shared since she had long abandoned the table.

He pressed a kiss to the sweat at her temple. His hand never left her through the drive to his home. They chatted, nothings and small quips passing the time between the bar and his flat. The tingle of anticipation settled in all of Missy’s limbs. Kyle’s thumb brushed over some of her back tattoos, distracting her from her train of thought.

When the car finally arrived, they climbed onto the sidewalk and into the apartment building. Missy studied him in the mirrored walls of the elevator. Kyle had one arm securely around her waist and his nose brushing against her shoulder. The heat from his breath sent shivers spiraling down her arms and across her back. In the small box, she could nearly taste his cologne. Her fingers twitched in her reflection. She couldn’t wait to dig her nails into his back as she gasped for breath.

It had been too damn long since she had felt the weight of a man. Thinking it over one of the last times had been getting pregnant with her daughter. Damn. Addie’s fifth birthday would be in a few months. It had been damn near six years since she had been touched, loved, held, fucked.

“It’s been a while for me,” Missy lifted her hand closest to Kyle, letting her fingers dig into the joint at his neck.

He melted like an ice cream you buy from the nice man who drives real slow down the street, playing music like the pied piper to pull every child to his window. A moan of pleasure-laced pain filled the space as she worked at the knot she found there.

“Let me call you baby and I’ll go as slow as you need. If I don’t get at least two orgasms out of you before I cum I have not done enough and I owe you a thousand.”

Languid would not have been the word Missy expected to use when being fucked silly by Kyle.

When they had entered his flat, he had taken a moment to turn on lamps strategically placed throughout the space. The warm light gave the space an inviting feel. Light music filled the space, something haunting but without words. The sound of running water came soon after.

Her opinion of him rose. What kind of man didn’t need a reminder to wash his hands before touching a woman?

Missy set her purse on a small table near the front door and slipped her heels into the space between the legs.

Kyle stepped up behind her. His socks silenced his approach. His hands settled on either hip, fingers digging into the flesh there. Nose on her shoulder again he posed his first question.

“Can I kiss these? They’ve been driving me wild all night.”

The gravel in his voice went straight to her lady bits.

“Be my guest, they are some of my favorite tattoos so far,” Missy replied breathlessly.

His plush lips worked slowly, peppering kisses across every speck of skin that boasted a tattoo. By the time he had reached the back of her neck, she yearned for more contact, Missy grabbed both his hands and lifted them to her breasts.

Kyle smiled as he kissed her.

“Needing more attention, baby?”

“Yes,” the breathless reply hitched at the end as his clever fingers began to circle.

Her nipples fought against the pressure of the leather, preening for attention.

Missy snaked a hand between their bodies to pull at the strings holding her into her outfit. Kyle caught her hand.

“Let me unwrap my present,” his other hand left her breasts and held both her wrists neatly in his large grip. “I am nearly done kissing these beautiful shoulders.”

Her breasts were pushed together with her hands pinned in front of her and Kyle could reach both nipples with one hand. Whining a bit in her throat, Missy tugged lightly to free her hands.

Kyle kissed his way to her ear, “Use your words, baby.”

“I would rather bite off my own tongue,” she panted. His fingers circled and circled and circled the tips.

“Mmm, let’s change this up then.” Kyle stepped back, hands readjusting to hold to one of hers and leave her breasts bereft of contact, Missy stumbled after him into a bedroom dressed in greens and browns. A well-made bed, with a duvet and decorative pillows, welcomed them. Kyle turned back to look at Missy with a mischievous look in his eye, before she could question he lifted her hand and spun her. She now stood facing the bed as her head swirled slightly.

Tugging lightly at the bunny ear knot, Kyle loosened her outfit. Missy slapped a hand to the bodice.

“Let it go, baby. I want to discover the shape of you.”

Biting her lip Missy let the outfit fall. Kyle moaned behind her like someone had pegged him for the first time. She had always been a quiet lover, but his gentle caress nearly pulled breathy moans from her chest.

“Goddesses are shaped like you,” his words of worship whispered into her ears as his hands trailed down from her armpits to the place where her jumpsuit pooled at her waist.

Kyle’s thumbs dug under the fabric. He kissed down her spine, lowering her clothes until his nose settled between her ass cheeks.

“Step.” Missy did as directed, “You’re so responsive.” That shouldn’t have made her hands shake disturbing the duvet as she used it for balance. “Once more. Look at that thong, what a good choice you made. What a good girl you are, listening so well.”

Lord have mercy. Missy didn’t think she had a praise kink but goddamn, if he kept talking like that he might keep his offer of money. The sound of her clothes hitting the floor behind her did not cause her to look.

No, all of Missy’s focus was on Kyle and how his nose ran down the crease of her ass. He moved closer and closer to her aching hole. Burying his face between the plush of her thighs, Missy let out a squawk. Kyle’s tongue wet everything he could reach of her. Falling forward to her forearms on the mattress Missy felt her feet shift wider to accommodate Kyle kneeling so close behind her.

“There she is, built like a goddess and dripping the nectar of eternal life.”

Missy skin radiated heat. The way he spoke about her would haunt every masturbation to follow. One of his hands wrapped around her ankle, the other slid a finger under the string of her thong. He traced the string between her ass cheeks, a firm pressure circling her tight hole before continuing. Missy shoved her face into the bend of her elbow.

Panting before he even touched her clit, Missy moaned into the mattress as his finger shifted back and forth over her opening.

“Any reason to keep these whole?”

It took damn near all her focus to process the question.

“Send me home with a pair of boxers and you can rip them apart with your teeth,” Missy muttered.

The sounds barely made it past her lips when Kyle had left her lower lips and the sound of a drawer opening and closing reached her ears. The chill of scissors at the base of her spine heightened her arousal all the more.

A slow snip and her g-string lost all tension. Glancing to the bedside table Kyle’s hand appears in her vision before retreating. All that is left is a pair of medical scissors.

The hand at her ankle starts traveling. It rose with gentle pressure until it reached the apex of her thighs and ripped her underwear off. Cool air slapped at her hole. Kyle blew back and forth on the sensitive skin until his panty-snatching hand was back and spreading her lips.

“God above Kyle, where did you learn this?” Missy sounded exasperated but would do nearly anything for him to touch her.

“Dated a cougar once. She wanted a young buck who could keep up with her. Learned a thing or seven. Now take a deep breath for me, baby.”

Missy did as directed and promptly screamed it out into her arm as his lips wrapped around her clit and suckled. The tip of his tongue eased her clit from its hood. He suckled harder when it appeared. Pulling the skin around in his mouth too, he labored at her cluster of nerves. When a finger nudged at her entrance Missy nearly shot up the damn bed.

Kyle pressed himself in further as he maintained a hard suck on her clit. The pressure from his head and the forceful direction of his finger had her lying flat and spreading her legs further apart for him.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.”

The mantra became a babble as Kyle released his hold on her clit as he pulled his finger from her body at the same time.

He laid the flat of his tongue at the parting of her lips. Wetting the hair he found there he rolled his head back until his tongue could dive into her wetness. Missy clawed at the bed as Kyle fucked her with his tongue.

“Arch for me, baby,” his tone came out commanding even as the words were interspersed with slurps and the slick sounds of his tongue.

Missy did as he demanded.

She really did scream this time.

Kyle clamped her clit and one nipple in a pinch simultaneously. His mouth never stopped moving. His teeth nipped at her lips, tugging them as she squirmed. Switching hands he repeated the process.

When two fingers slid lewdly into her body and stretched Missy found herself thrown off a cliff into an orgasm.

His fingers never stopped moving as he licked up every bit of her arrival that slid down his arm and between her legs. When Missy could see again she reached back to push him away.

“Kyle, it’s too much,” she whined weakly.

The hand not busy sending her to the moon captured both her weakly flailing hands

“Give me one more and I fuck your goddess’ body like a whore. Come on, baby. You’re doing so, so good. There you are. Look at you taking these fingers like you were made for it,” he cooed at Missy as her muscles tightened down.

The appearance of his warm, wet mouth on her clit sent Missy spiraling. Her legs gave out. Kyle cleaned her with his tongue again, moans of pleasure and simpering about her taste chased each other through Missy’s ears.

Satisfied, Kyle’s heat disappeared from her senses.

When his heat returned it was not diffused by clothes but sticks to Missy’s back with skin to skin. The thick length of his manhood settles against her. This is one of those times she thanks any god listening she had Addie naturally, had she not had a baby Missy was sure that Kyle would cause some damage.

“Up we go baby, spread yourself nice and wide over my bed. I want you to use every bit of it,” Kyle’s fingers dug into her hips lightly as she shifted to lay diagonally.

His hands stay on her even as she lays face down. He shifts first her right foot a tad further out and then her left.

“Prop that pretty ass up for me baby. Yeah just like that,” Kyle praised her as the mattress dipped under his weight. “Hold it like that until I’m in and then relax.”

His thick dick notched at her entrance, the stretch burning this side of painful. Missy fought for air as her chest bucked under the effort of breathing. Kyle leaned forward, pressing his body into hers as his forearms bracketed her ribs. His nimble fingers slid between the duvet and her ribs and took a nipple in each hand. Working up his thrusts he played with the sensitive buds. He really got into a rhythm when Missy let out a whimpering cry if Kyle sunk his teeth into her shoulder as he bottomed out and twisted her nipples with a vicious twist. That little trick only worked three times before Missy shook so hard she dragged Kyle with her into the world-shattering orgasm.

When Missy can see again, she finds herself on the toilet. At least Kyle knew how to help prevent UTIs. Damn. He was such a good fucking lay, there was no way that he would want anything beyond this from her. Blinking tiredly, Missy finished her business and stood on shaky legs. At the sound of the faucet running Kyle appeared in the bathroom.

“Come on sweet girl, let’s get you to bed.” His sharp eyes dragged over her body even as he tucked her into his bed, “Can I wake you with an orgasm?”

Missy had never been woken with an orgasm before and had to put a moment of thought into it before she replied.

“Fingers and mouth, I think I would freak out if I woke up with you over me,” Missy’s eyes are drooping closed even as the words leave her mouth.

Kyle did exactly as she asked, reviving her with a startlingly strong orgasm as she entered the waking world before pushing her into a mating press and blowing his load another time. As Missy lay, stunned and noodle-boned, Kyle moved around his room before disappearing from the edges of her vision.

Sitting up, finally, Missy found her outfit from last night tucked into a bag with a set of sweats next to it, and a coffee and a croissant. Dressing slowly, she brought everything to the coffee table. Settling it on the table she pulled out her phone and ordered a ride to get home. Kyle appeared before her ride did, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips as his hand settled at her hip.

“I had fun. I get the feeling you’re not one for many one-night stands, but if you are in need of a rough night? I would kill to do that again.” Kyle’s words dripped with sincerity.

Pleasantly surprised, but pleased Missy smiled coyly up at him.

“If we end up at the same party again I might just take you home instead.”

It took nearly five months before Missy and Kyle ended up in the same room.

Their time together had left her with an unexpected but welcome surprise. Kyle didn’t seem like the type to want the commitment but like with Addie she would give him a chance to meet his daughter. Missy had no way to contact him, nothing beyond his name and a couple of blank socials that popped up when she searched him every week. She was a week away from hiring a PI to track the man down. When she returned to his flat she found it lived in by an elderly Indian couple who couldn’t help her locate the prior tenant.

Five months into a second pregnancy would always be harder to hide than a first; her body had done this once and knew how to stretch for growth. That had actually been what gave it away. The fucking round ligament pain. A deep ache, below her abs stretched from her uterus to her back. She had never experienced outside of pregnancy sent her scrambling to the corner store, Addie in tow.

After settling Addie in with a bit of screen time with a limit Missy snatched up one of the random tiny paper cups that littered her cupboards. She made the mistake of buying them a single time and after Addie ripped open the package and used over half of them for, well, everything she could think of, Missy didn’t buy them again.

Pregnancy tests always recommended to use the first pee of the day, to ensure there would be enough HGC to confirm, but Missy would throw up if she had to wait any longer. Managing to avoid peeing on her hand she set the small cup on the counter, washed her hands, and called her Angela.

Angela had been her second nanny and still acted more like a mother than her own blood did. She picked up on the third ring.

“Hello, my Missy. How are you today?”

The comforting sound of Angela’s voice pricked tears to Missy’s lash line.

“Freaking out.”

Missy can hear Angela shift on the other end of the line, all her attention being focused on the call.

“What happened? Are you safe? Is Addie okay?”

“Um, Addie is okay. She’s watching some random video about space right now,” Missy hedged.

She didn’t want to do this to Angela again. Angela had been her first call when she found herself pregnant from a relationship that more closely resembled her parents, loveless and spite-filled than she cared to admit. The shame that welled up in her chest nearly had Missy ending the call.

“Mychael,” Angela pulled out her mom voice, “I can hear you panicking. Tell me what is going on.”

Missy sobbed into her fist. Three hard sniffs and she could breathe again. When her words came out they were small and scared. “I need to take a pregnancy test, can you stay on the line with me?”

“Oh honey,” the softness, love oozing through the line soothed the fears that Missy harbored about being unlovable for her mistakes. “What step are you on?”

“I have a cup of pee on the counter and the unopened test,” Missy replied, wiping at her nose.

“Good, then can you open the box?” Angela coached her through the steps.

Missy had bought the cheapest one they had, all her friends who had more than one kid swore by the cheap ones. They all claimed they worked faster and better than the overpriced ones that read ‘PREGNANT’ or ‘NOT PREGNANT’. Dipping the small stick until the color shifted showing it had absorbed enough Missy laid it on the foil that had been inside the box.

“Angela, I’m so worried. What am I going to do if I am pregnant?” Missy turned around to face the wall, unable to bear watching.

“You have options dear. You know I will keep Addie if you need to make an appointment, or will knit you a baby blanket if you make a different kind of appointment.” She would too. Angela was a staunch defender of making choices that saved women, not potential. “What made you want to test?”

Sighing Missy turned as she replied, “Round ligamen— holy fuck! That shouldn’t be showing a second line yet! It’s been less than a minute.”

Angela laughed in her ear, “Missy, if you were having that pain of course the test would show that immediately. A body knows. Can you contact your last partner?”

Rocked into shock by the swiftness of the answer Missy nodded. Then realizing she did not have Angela on a video chat, confirmed verbally. They spoke for a few more minutes until the numbness started to wear off. It took a week for Missy to find an answer she could live with; she had always wanted two kids.

Mychael “Missy” Cooper haunted Kyle’s daydreams. All his dreams really.

He wanted a family, badly. It was never a desire he discussed with his teammates. Price wanted a ‘traditional’ wife at home and children who looked up to him, Ghost wanted nothing to do with the potential of kids and avoided women as a byproduct. Soap, his best friend, wanted to play life with a wife and a catholic state of mind. Kyle didn’t want anything like that, but explaining that he wanted to step into something half-built, to fill a hole left by someone else titillated his senses was not a matter he wanted to discuss. Or unpack for that matter.

His sister had invited him, informed him he would be attending actually, to a mingle for his nephew’s fancy school. Having a soldier who could brush shoulders with some of the hoity-toity folks and share chats about common acquaintances would help keep the heat off his sister being a single mother.

A laugh, one that echoed in his footsteps, had Kyle snapping his head around. Scanning every face he cursed himself for being so on edge. Like the fool he always accused Soap of being, he forgot to get her number before letting her out his front door. There. Lord above, she was radiant.

Missy wore her hair natural today, tight curls forming a small halo afro, draped in a purple dress and an elegant scarf around her neck she looked more radiant than he remembered her.

Excusing himself from the conversation flowing around him with a smile Kyle worked his way across the large room. A man with lascivious eyes stared down at Missy as she smiled up at him politely. Stepping up behind her Kyle leveled the man with his soldier’s face. When the interloper caught sight of the danger Kyle tilted his head to the side, a clear message to excuse himself.

The man left gracelessly, without a word. Missy’s brow puckered as her eyes trailed after her former conversation partner. Kyle leaned close, careful not to touch her as he spoke in her ear.

“Does this count as a party you would take me home from?”

She spun with a squeak. God, the sounds she made haunted him.

“Hi Missy,” Kyle let the smile tugging at his lips free.

The way her lips parted had Kyle wanting to put them to use. His sister would never let him live it down if he went home with a date from her son’s school mingle. Fuck it.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Of course, you would show up at my daughter’s school party.”

Now that was not the reply he expected. Lifting a brow he let his gaze drift down her form.

“Oh?”

The shape of her dress is not quite what it should be, there is no pattern to explain the way it draped funny. Dragging his eyes up to Missy’s he waited his turn to speak, to convince her to let him spread her open again and again and again.

“Turns out my IUD needed replacing about six months ago. I would have told you this information sooner but by the time I swung by your apartment you had moved.”

That first sentence did not make any sense to him whatsoever. Kyle tilted his head ever so slightly as his nose scrunched.

Missy sucked in a breath, blowing it out through her nose.

“My daughter,” she laid a hand against her stomach, sliding it down until the fabric laid taut to a shape found only in one state of life, “is about to have a sister. I have been looking for you to give you the chance to be a part of our daughter’s life.”

Understanding rocked him. This conversation discombobulated him more than falling out of Nik’s helo. Glancing from stomach to face, Kyle searched Missy’s open expression for any lies hidden in her eyes.

Never in his wildest dreams did Kyle expect to actually find a family, half-formed and in need. That it would include the woman he woke hard with yearning for? All the better.

Stepping forward, slowly, so slowly he could have been mistaken for a statue he ducked his head toward Missy’s. His hand lifted, waiting for her nod. She nodded. He settled it on the hard bump of baby.

“I would love nothing more than to worship you as I learn to love you and our daughters.”

Missy sucked in a breath eyes widening at his words, at the ownership, the claim the sentence held.

“Well, guess I might actually take you home from this party then,” Missy joked.

Kyle’s lips twitched, this gift would be so much better than he could have ever expected.

“Come and meet my sister.”

The thought behind his words rang loud in his head, come and meet my family, let me make you my family.

“And tell her what exactly?” Missy’s smile didn’t slip, but her stomach tightened under his hand.

“We tell her that I met someone and was an idiot who forgot to get the number for the woman who haunts my dreams and see if she would like to set up a playdate with my nephews.”

Missy’s smile took on a cat in the creme kind of quality.

“You really like taking charge of things don’t you?”

Kyle laughed, full and loud, headless of the eyes that fell on them for it.

“Baby, you have no idea.”

Masterlist

[autistichalsin]

My mom is trying to play victim again, saying how much it hurts her that she hasn't spoken to me since October.

And you know what?

Fuck her. She needs me so much more than I need her.

I spent YEARS chasing her, giving everything to her, trying to be GOOD ENOUGH so she would love me a FRACTION as much as my sister. I took on all her problems because I KNEW it was the only way she would ever care about me. I just wanted my mom to love me. And even when I did EVERYTHING right she still never cared about me as much as she cared about my sister.

I'm done. I made it CLEAR that the only way I talk to her again is if she gets therapy or if we go to family therapy. I'm not talking to her without a professional's help. I'm not settling. I'm done chasing after her crumbs. She does not and NEVER will love me as much as my sister. I'm done putting all my energy to her. I'm done letting her be an overbearing, controlling, manipulative, judgmental bitch who ruins everything, makes all my achievements (and bad events) about her, who NEVER shows up to support me when I need her.

I deserve better.

I deserve a better fucking mom. And she won't ever give me that. She won't ever be the person I deserve. And I am fucking done begging for it.

She whines that she's worried she's losing time with me? If she was so worried she would have started fucking fixing her toxic shit. She's not worried about losing time, she's sad she's lost her favorite fucking person to trauma dump on and extract emotional labor from.

She had me thinking all my life that it was fucking normal for parents to make fun of their kids. To think that telling your own fucking kid to die and/or to kill themself was just something people sometimes said when they were angry and didn't mean it. I spent years thinking I deserved the times she slapped me when I was being mean to my little brother. I spent years thinking nothing I did outside of academics was worth noticing because she never came to my events, and that it was only worth celebrating if I was really good at it because she told me so many times she couldn't get me an instrument like my sister because my sister was so good she was going to be a professional musician and I never would. I hated my birthday for YEARS because every year she would drink and say terrible things to me, and more than one year she screamed at my dad for the gift he got me, and one year she even beat him up for it because she wanted the Elton John tickets he got for me. She made me feel like it was my job to protect my siblings and dad from her. To the point that I intentionally made her mad enough at me to hit me so they could escape from her.

Anyone else on the planet would have cut her off years ago. How fucking dare she think she's entitled to my presence in her life at all, let alone without going to therapy or Alcoholics Anonymous? After all the years of abuse, she thinks it goes away because she stayed sober for a few years (and then relapsed after the election and had to start the clock over again)?

She fucking told me to kill myself. She told me MULTIPLE TIMES that she wished she could kill me.

How does she even fucking think she has a right to call herself my MOM, let alone a right to have me in her life?

(For the record, the times I was being mean to my little brother when we were little was typical sibling stuff, little kids being little shits. Which my mom slapped me for multiple times. And I grew up thinking I'd deserved it for the crime of, you know, being a kid who was still learning empathy.)

[love-you-likeallfire]

Sunshine and Roses

Chapter 4- Blood and Jam.

First chapter, Previous chapter

A/N: Hi guys, trying something a little different with this chapter, but just a warning this chapter is the first foray into the dark stuff in this fic and there is a mention of child loss in this chapter so if you’re not comfortable with that maybe skip this chapter. Look after yourself first and foremost.

She wakes up screaming.

The sound tears through the train quarters, shattering the thin silence between us like glass, it’s the kind of noise that brands itself into the bone. The kind you don’t ever forget.

I place my bottle on the side table without thinking, heart hammering against ribs that already know what’s coming as I turn my attention to Ember’s side of the bed.

She’s tangled in the blanket she wrapped round herself, gasping like she’s drowning, dark waves plastered to her forehead by damp beading sweat.

Her eyes— that same blue of the sky above the meadow, on a clear day— are wide, wild, blown and staring at me so full of terror it guts me to look back into them.

They just look entirely lost.

I don't touch her.

I can't.

Because I might shatter her.

So I stay where I am.

Sitting back against the headboard of the bed, fists knotted into the mattress to keep them from reaching for her.

"Ember," I say, low, steady, the same way you’d talk to a horse ready to bolt.

The way you talk to someone standing on the edge of something high and dark, someone who’s not sure which way they’ll fall.

"You’re here. It’s just a dream."

She shakes her head, curls in tighter on herself, trembling so bad the whole bed shivers with her.

She makes these little broken noises, raw in her throat, like she’s trying to claw her way back but can't find the path.

Like she's stuck somewhere I can't reach.

And I feel it— that helpless, furious thing rise up inside me again.

Because there’s not a damn thing I can do to make it better.

I can fight Capitol mutts. I can punch through walls.

But I can’t fight what’s inside her head.

I can’t save her from something that already happened.

I just sit there. Silent.

Watching her drown on dry land.

But there’s nothing in the world that could make me look away.

Not again.

The sound she made—that scream—

It sticks under my skin, nestling in with all the other things I can’t scrub out.

“You’re okay,” I say.

It’s a lie.

We both know it’s a lie.

She’s not okay.

Neither of us are.

Maybe we never will be.

But sometimes lying’s the only thing you can do for someone you care about. And though I don’t admit it, I do care about her.

And even though she doesn’t answer, slowly, eventually, her breathing evens out.

Not normal.

Never normal.

Just… enough to survive the night.

She’s still trembling, little shivers racking her shoulders, but not in that frantic, splintering way anymore.

More like a leaf caught on a dead branch.

And then—

Barely a whisper, half-caught between dreaming and waking—

she mutters it.

One word.

"Ash."

It rips the air right out of my lungs, like she just hit me hard.

Because hearing that name—his name—is like getting stabbed somewhere old, somewhere the scar never finished healing.

Ash.

The baby.

The little person the Capitol took before we ever even got a chance to know him.

My hands move before my brain catches up.

I pull the blanket back up over her shoulders, clumsy and awkward, but gently, careful like she’s made of glass that’s already cracked.

Mercifully, she doesn’t wake again.

She just breathes, slow and heavy, chest rising and falling under the covers, hair fanned out across the pillow like a storm cloud.

She’s too young.

Too tired.

The kind of tired that doesn't ever really go away.

She never should’ve had to learn how the world really treats its victors.

Not with blood and babies and loss written into her before she even turned twenty.

And it’s my fault too, not just the Capitol’s not just Snow’s, mine.

If I’d been stronger.

Smarter.

If I hadn’t let them—

I scrub a hand over my face, digging my fingers into my temples until stars spark behind my eyes.

It doesn’t matter.

It’s done.

All I can do now is sit here.

Sit here and guard what little peace she has left.

Even if it guts me a little more every damn night to hear her scream.

Even if it carves something hollow into my chest that’ll never fill back in.

It’s the only thing I’m good for anymore.

+++++++

I wake up alone.

For a moment, I don't move — just blink up at the ceiling, disoriented, head heavy with the kind of sleep that feels less like rest and more like being buried under a mountain.

I sit up carefully, the bed too cold where someone should’ve been. But then it settles. Haymitch must’ve gotten up already.

I rub the heel of my hand against my eyes, feeling the familiar weight behind them, the headache that comes after nights like last night.

The floor is cool against my bare feet as I pad into the dining car.

Effie’s the first thing I see, sitting prim and straight on the velvet sofa, a steaming cup of tea balanced perfectly in her hands.

Katniss is at the table, elbows resting on the wood, picking at the edge of a napkin.

Peeta stands by the window, big and solid, waving mechanically at the crowds we’re already passing — the Capitol citizens, tiny dots of color flashing by.

And Haymitch —

Haymitch is sitting next to Katniss at the table, a piece of toast in one hand, slathered with jam so thick it’s practically sliding off the edges.

There’s a mug next to him, coffee strong enough to smell across the room, and if I look hard enough, I can just make out the telltale glint of whiskey at the rim.

He’s not drinking it, though.

Just eating toast.

"Mornin’, sunshine," he says around a bite of toast, voice rough but lighter than it should be.

I stare at him for a moment too long, and yet all I can think of to say is:

"You're eating toast."

The side of his mouth quirks up, half amused, half just tired. “It’s good toast.”

I shuffle over to the table, catching a glimpse of a fresh dent in the wood. Deep. Sharp, like someone stabbed it with something. There’s a butter knife beside it and Haymitch's hand rests casually close to it, like he’s daring someone to try again.

It then hits me then — small and sharp and stupid in a way that sticks —

Haymitch hasn’t slept.

He let me sleep in.

The thought lodges somewhere under my ribs, strange and warm and aching all at once.

Haymitch Abernathy, king of bad decisions and self-sabotage, sacrificed his morning sleep — the only thing he probably likes better than drinking — for me.

It messes with my head more than I want it to.

"What did I miss?" I ask, sliding into a chair across from him and snagging a savory muffin off a tray between us, in a half hearted attempt at breakfast.

"Nothing important," Haymitch says, easy, casual. "Just the usual. How to get sponsors. How to not get killed too fast. Real fun stuff."

Katniss's shoulders stiffen.

Peeta shifts at the window, his hand falling from the glass momentarily, I glance between them, clock the way Katniss’s jaw sets, the way Peeta doesn’t meet anyone’s eyes.

Yeah.

Something definitely happened.

Probably something to do with that new scar in the table.

I file it away.

I’ll get the story out of Effie later.

She always cracks first.

The train lurches slightly, the scenery outside slowing, sharpening. We’re pulling into the Capitol soon.

I make myself take a bite of the muffin.

Savory. Dry. Barely palatable.

Still better than trying to force down the lump stuck somewhere in my throat.

Across from me, Haymitch slouches deeper in his chair, chewing on his toast like it’s just another day.

Like him being awake, functional, and voluntarily eating breakfast isn't the weirdest thing I’ve seen all year.

It is, though.

By a long shot.

Effie claps her hands once, breaking the heavy quiet.

"All right, everyone! We’ll be departing the train soon! Katniss, Peeta — let’s get you ready! You two— get dressed!”

They’re both still in their reaping clothes — the only day clothes they have for now — rumpled and tired and already bracing themselves for whatever the Capitol’s about to throw at them.

Effie ushers them out with brisk efficiency, not even glancing back to check if they’re following.

They do.

Good little soldiers.

And then it’s just me and Haymitch.

And the dented table.

And the sound of the train slowing to a stop.

I pick at the corner of my muffin, stealing a glance at him from under my lashes.

He’s wearing a blue silk dressing gown over rumpled white pajama bottoms, the tie half undone.

He looks ridiculous.

He looks—safe.

I hate how much that thought sticks.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just nurses the mug between his palms, letting the steam rise into his face.

Then, like he notices me staring, he says, "You good?"

It’s not the way most people ask it.

Not clipped and bright, not pretending everything’s fine.

Just low. Real.

Like he already knows the answer.

And it’s okay.

"Yeah," I lie.

Haymitch does not buy it, but doesn’t push, either.

I drop my gaze to my muffin again, pretending very hard that I’m not thinking about toast and blue silk and the way something warm and awful and confusing is knotting up in my chest.

The Capitol looms outside the window.

Bright. Hungry.

But for the moment, I’m still here.

Still breathing.

Still sitting across from the only thing in this train car that feels even remotely safe.

And somehow, that’s enough.

For now.

Tag list (if you want to be tagged just let me know, and sorry if I forget anyone): @maddiesreadinglog.

[dreaminrainbows]

I am so deeply sorry i am late for posting, life work and everything else got in the way and it has been a bit too much lately. I want to say i am so deeply grateful for the authors not only of the fics that got me through April, but all fics ever written! You bring us so much immerse joy !!!

Blue eyes look my way (Make today my lucky day) by magpielivingforglitter / @builtyouahousefromabrokenhome | [98k]

November 1968. Harry has to quit the Liverpool College of Art and go back home to Sheffield to work in the steel mill, after his step-dad died and left his family with debts and too many mouths to feed. But that also means Harry gets to catch his local ice hockey team’s games again. And the Sheffield Steelers have two new players who could turn the season around - maybe even Harry’s whole life …

Face Your Fears  by SadaVeniren/@sadaveniren | [92k]

Harry is a single father, pretending to be a beta after his alpha mated him and left him. He’s getting by just fine raising the twins when Louis walks into his bakery. Too bad him and Louis will never be a thing.

Unveiled  by phdmama/ @phd-mama | [65k]

The train grinds to a halt and Harry leans forward in his eagerness to take it all in. It’s a gorgeous Spring day, the sky the same intense blue that he knows from home, which comforts him. There’s much here that looks almost familiar, but then so much that is new and strange to his eyes. The bustling station platform and winding streets beyond paved in cobblestones look much like home. There are vehicles ranging from small to very large, some with strange and unusual shapes of which he can only guess the purpose. But most surprising are the people. There is a crowd gathered, filled with men and women, some in what looks to be a military uniform, some in what must be the street clothes in this Land. There are no robes. And not a single one of them is veiled.

All Of You For Eternity by Signofcomfort/@songswelive | [29k]

A beat passed between them, the curtains fluttered, and Louis could still hear faints of Harry's heart, stuttering, trying to keep the pace with Louis’. But Louis’ own wasn't slowing down. It had never stopped screaming and shouting since the day Edward turned to dust. The only love of his life. The only sacred thing that had decided to leave Louis behind. And Louis had learned how to be with that reality. He was breathing it. It had made it so much easier to let Harry go, so much easier to let his hurt onto Harry. And maybe Harry was indeed born for that. To take the pain that Edward had passed onto Louis. Didn't hurt people hurt people? And Louis was broken, cruelty didn't seem fit to describe him, not when he had watched so much of what life had repaid him before he went out in the search, knocking on Martha’s door. OR Meet the walker of the night, aka, vampire, aka Louis Tomlinson, who is dwelling between the lovers from the past and the present!

starin' back from the lookin' glass (there stood a woman where a half-grown boy had stood) by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou | [23k]

Harry squeezed his feet into the black heels his mother handed him from their little satin bag and stood up, slightly wobbly for a few seconds before he caught himself. “They’re small on you, I know,” Mama said quietly as she went and grabbed the mirror. “You’ll have to use your first money to get a place to stay, but after that you need to buy shoes that fit you…” She was still speaking, but Harry couldn’t hear her anymore over the blood rushing in his ears as she turned the mirror and made him look at himself. He looked… He was… He felt like a woman. Where just under an hour ago, he’d seen a boy, barely a young man, shaving off the bits of his beard that had started to grow in so late, he now saw a woman. She was as real as he had ever seen. His posture, unsure and shy, morphed into hers, shoulders straight and hip cocked as she tried her best to balance herself on the high heels she’d inherited.

Of Guitar Gods and Gorgeous Models by SuaveGirasol | [15k]

Harry considers Louis' proposal for a moment, his lips quirking up in a sly smile. “Sounds like a wild ride.” “As long as I'm the one you ride,” Louis replies smoothly, “then it’s perfect.” Harry laughs, shaking his head. “Silly. You know your fans are gonna fucking lose it, right?” “Oh, a bit,” Louis agrees, his tone casual. “But leave that to me. I’m used to handling chaos.” OR The one where Louis is a famous rockstar who gets on a wild fling with model Harry Styles, but Louis' fans get mad and call them a stunt, so Harry gets sick of it and posts a video of him riding Louis' cock.

It's Been Ages by 2tiedships2/ @2tiedships2 | [13k]

“We need to talk,” Niall said as he plopped down on Louis’ bed. “It’s you and Harry. You like him, he likes you, it’s a match made in heaven and you will one day be mates,” Louis shook his head in exasperation. “If you’ve been watching, you would see that Harry is interested in, like, alpha alphas. Not me.” “What the fuck is an alpha alpha?” Niall asked with furrowed brows. “You know what I mean,” Louis said, giving Niall a pointed look. “I literally have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Maybe someday, I'll find my way home  by insufferablelovebirds / @twoweekhome | [12k]

Louis was surprised when instead of a novel a screenshot came through, he tapped it waiting for it to unpixelate and his stomach dropped to somewhere around his knees when it finally cleared. His eyes caught first on the picture taking up most of the screen; it was Harry, without a doubt, despite the nondescript gray beanie pulled low over his ears, sending the camera a murderous glare as he struggled to keep a cream colored blanket over the head of the infant clutched to his chest in whipping wind. Wait. Infant? An AU where it's been three years since Louis and Harry split and two years since they'd spoken when Harry is papped with an infant clutched to his chest.

Six Ways to Sunday by SilverStuff50 / @silverstuff50 | [11k]

Prompt 97: H is an award winning actor who’s a massive fan of The Six, an indie band fronted by a certain LT. H confesses his love for the band in an interview, L takes the piss when asked about him, saying H isn’t cool enough to stan The Six. An internet feud starts with the fandoms facing off, whilst behind the scenes H’s secret crush on L makes him determined to change the man’s mind about him. While the fandoms are at war, the two men bicker over Twitter, but behind the scenes the ice is slowly thawing. Or: Harry’s a fanboy and Louis secretly likes the fact. Or maybe not so secretly….

Your secret's safe with me by lightswoodmagic (sarah_writes) | [ 7k]

He knew almost everything about Haz, considered him his best friend. He knew his favourite movies and books, how he liked his coffee, knew how many pets he had and what he was most afraid of. Louis knew how to calm him down when he was panicking, and that he’d lost his virginity to his ex-boyfriend when he was 17. He knew that Haz had curly hair, green eyes, that he was tall and considered himself slightly awkward. He knew his Instagram account that only had aesthetic pictures or ridiculous jokes, but in the all the time that Louis had known him, he’d never learnt, or been allowed to know, Haz’s full name, what he sounded like, or what he looked like. Louis didn't care. Or, when Louis' favourite singer comes back and announces he's performing again, him and the rest of his group chat decide to go. When Haz, the man Louis' fallen in love with without meeting him, says that he can't, Louis tries his best to convince him with a drunken phone call, hearing his voice for the first time. It's not until he's at Royal Variety that he swears he can hear it again.

Fall With You by pointerbrother / @pointerbrotherblog | [6k]

It started out with Louis taking up the whole couch on his own, Harry complaining and trying to push him off, and then, eventually, Harry just dumping himself fully on top of Louis. He’d expected to be shoved off as fast as he fell, but Louis just cursed and then rested back down. Too preoccupied with the telly to fight, Harry thinks, if he’s being reasonable. Too cuddly to say no, Harry tells himself, if he’s being wishful. * Harry and Louis are stuck in a hotel suite together watching the Euros 2020 final because they tested positive for Covid, and Louis is quite caught up in the game. Meanwhile, Harry is caught up in Louis.

Missed Chances by harryanthus_annuus | [5k]

Louis’s divorce puts him at an awkward spot. Crawling with guilt, grovelling really, he is left to repair the bridge his mate burned in her wake: his friendship with their daughter’s best friend’s mum. OR they get drunk on some expensive wine. Things escalate from there.

As usual DO NOT forget to leave comment and kuddos, we will literally love you forever!!

[soulstagger]

"The past..."

It's only fair, Flavia knows this, but still when Marianne asks... she regrets it all the same. To revisit what's happened to her, when they're not a lifetime ago, or years ago, but only weeks and months.

There were incidents earlier in her life, the worrisome struggle to save friends from a killing doll. The attempt to ward off a werewolf, only to be saved by her heroes.

Those were physically painful and scary moments, but nothing like what followed.

"Less than a year ago, in my desperate search to find a way to help people. I met a woman in a store of mirrors, she gifted me those cards. A way to maybe run from terror, to grab someone in danger and save them. I learned with different stock and my focus, I could change how they worked, and what they worked on."

It's a tool of a witch, and she managed to deduce the materials needed, even how to modify it. A clever girl Flavia was, but her desires for more would led her astray.

"At first I could move from point A and B, then to farther countries. Finally almost...mirrors of the timeline I live and further. But.."

"Bold.. I felt bold and strong for once in my life... I tried to look into the vanishing of several of my undergrad classmates. I came across a vampire lord whose obsession consumed me, she regarded me like an anomaly...and features so similar to a prized pet of hers."

Flav'as hand retracts, unable to stop the shaking that's building. Her throat feels dry just speaking about her in vague. "She'd taken my friends... enthralled them, and.."

Their touch still stains her soul and body, "I.. I escaped. I ran, I tried to gather myself. I slowly found out my neighbor had 'moved' and one of my missing friends returned to watch me.. a cycle started to appear.."

The more she speaks the smaller Flavia appears, she wants to stop sharing but the fear compels her to keep moving.

"I didn't want to give up but I needed help. That mirror woman told me of a place she was going to soon, I wanted to find her. When I was ready, I finally pushed myself to take a leap and follow her with my cards. This is when I realize..the stock is used the first trip there, like it burns itself to make that bridge."

"I emerged from the woods to meet a rabbit woman, but I can't recall her name. I know I trusted her, I had fallen into a pit trap. A prank by a youkai she said.. I knew I was in the right place. Though vague she.."

That response from her body, it's not one of someone who was nearly killed or escaped fire. It was of someone taken over, mind and body.

"She let me go after, and I stumbled and ran. I saw a mansion, shrouded but.. a maid stood there to welcome me. This is where...the name Scarlet comes to me."

"I met a Remilia Scarlet, and her faithful maid. They treated me, they warmed me, and naive as I was.. so desperate for help. I did not notice their fangs, how they saw me as prey."

Despite this slowly worsening story, Flavia does not cry. Perhaps so used to burying these emotions, she merely physically shrinks in response to the pain. Looking fragile and meek as she continues.

"The same as the vampire lord, these two did... I... when I tried to leave with my cards, I found myself in a loop. Five times did I try to leave, five Scarlets did I meet, all so different. Their touch all..."

Her fingers dig into her own skin, cutting herself unintentionally. "Time and time again...wherever I go, I am met with those...in power, with power... who lay claim to me..."

"So when I saw your face... my face. I felt trapped."

"And when I met him..and heard the name Scarlet.. a vampire named Scarlet! I thought... I thought for a moment... maybe I was in another loop, that I had never escaped their mansion, their touch, those fangs. Fangs... those Fangs... fangs."

Her breathing rapidly picked up, those hands squeezing around herself clutched her heart.

"For a moment despite how far I had come since then... I felt just as weak as when I was little. The same weakness that saw a friend's body feet from me as ........ the same weakness when I tried to save classmates and a werewolf nearly killed me."

"I felt..fragile..and passed out."

As Flavia speaks once more, Marianne visibly relaxes, she lays her palms flat again, and her eyes open. Annie and Flavia both having offered her a hand in kindly gesture, she lays hers atop theirs.

"It's through moments like this, that we can learn to accept the past, and move forward. Reassuring hands, honest words, and open ears."

Flavia's offering, and Marianne does have one question that burns within. She can't get those eyes out of her head...

"When we first met, you responded to my every word and action with suspicion. And the Master as well, he says you were so suspicious and wary that it took everything out of you, and you fainted."

"What... happened to you, to leave such a deep scar on your heart?"

[stagefoureddiediaz]

The Helena diaz of it all has me fascinated. I’ve said for a long while that Eddie’s real issues are his mommy issues and this episode just cemented for me that we’re gonna explore that and deal with it.

Because it’s Helena who forced Eddie to grow up to fast - because her husband wasn’t around much - so she pushed Eddie into de facto parent and husband role ls - selfishly filling her needs and ignoring the damage it was doing to her son (it is a form of abuse in my book).

Eddie then had the audacity to fall in love with and marry Shannon and get her pregnant. It’s why Helena was always so off with Shannon - she was punishing her. She is also punishing Eddie for all of this and his refusal to return to El Paso only cemented further her bitterness and resentment.

Now she does have Ramon back she doesn’t need Eddie any longer to fill that role so she is still punishing him and part of that is tied into her glee over now getting to parent Christopher - something she has always been intent on doing the doppelgänger just gave her the opportunity- as well as allowing her to further punish her son and his love of Shannon.

Her barbed comments about building a pool were all about showing what she can provide Christopher - how she is parenting him better than Eddie - it’s part of her mind games - making Eddie feel like more of a failure as a parent to his son.

The reality of course is that the reverse is true - Helena’s parenting is all superficial, flash and showy - it isn’t the hard day to day parenting when things get tough and you have to be the bad guy. While Eddie has made mistakes, there is nothing superficial, flash, or showy about his parenting. It’s why bucks comments about Eddie being a great dad are so important.

Eddie feel like a failure right now and that he is entirely to blame for everything. But in reality, while he does bear a bit of the responsibility, the truth of the matter is that he needs to learn and deal with the fact that all of it actually stems from Helena and her abuse of her young son - Shannon never stood a chance just like Eddie never has.

[moregraceful]

multiple habs watersports prompts in 1u

[bronzieinthedas]

Thank you so much @seaglassmelody for the tag!

Ok soooo first of all hello everyone I am new to the DA:TV fandom (used to be on the Mass Effect side until a couple years ago), but thanks to Veilguard I am currently finding my creative writing spark again!

So... I haven't really found my place yet, but so far I am trying to ease back into it and stretch those not-so-supple-anymore writing muscles again (also damn writing long texts in English after a couple years is hard).

Currently working on a ficlet/vignette collection about the past of my Rook, Qatesh and her history as a Tevinter textile workshop slave.

I started posting them to AO3 last week:

All That Came Before

A swallow’s cry always sounded a bit melancholy to Qatesh, a haunted, long-drawn, almost forlorn sound that echoed her own confined world. How many times she wished she could spread wings out wide and soar on the breeze towards the ocean, and on to the homeland she had never visited? She’d been told of mages who could transform into birds, and ever since, she’d been unsure if she wanted to be a mage or not. On one hand, being a mage would have made it possible for her to escape Tevinter and go home, which sounded good. But on the other hand… Qunari hated mages, so she couldn’t do that. Was it any better to stay here? Probably not?

I am currently also working on three loosely connected oneshots with Qatesh and Taash that haven't been posted yet. They were supposed to be just short character studies but somehow turned out smutty so... *gestures vaguely* I'mma go with that. Just an excerpt from the beginning of the first, as to keep this minor-friendly:

Spinning, Qatesh mused, was similar to channeling magic. Only if body and mind aligned, if she got the correct tension on the bobbin, the right rhythm to her treadling, and the perfect amount of take-up, she was able to spin a fine, balanced, even thread worthy of being woven into fine cloth. And similarly, magic needed her to focus herself, open up inside, channel the power, and release just the right amount of focused energy for what she wanted to achieve.

Long time ago, when her magic manifested, all she’d been taught were the basics of healing, so she'd pose no danger to the workshop. She'd only ever been allowed to be useful. And useful, she had been. Most of her formative years had been spent learning how to spin. Sometimes for the Mistress’ family, but mostly to feed the world’s seemingly unending hunger for luxurious fabrics. Tevinter was renowned for its textile industry, exporting the plushest and softest woollen yarn and woven goods into other lands. It was an open secret that Tevinter’s reputation was built on the backs of generations of slaves.

I do spin wool as a hobby (yes I know, very niche, and I like giving my hobbies to my OCs). And I am thinking about doing a little carding series because I really really crave to see how the DA:TV companions could be interpreted as art batts/wool blends... could be an idea for the coming companion weeks..? Input always welcome :)

For Lace Harding Week I have planned to post a step-by-step recipe with pics for Älplermagronen (Swiss cheesy noodles with applesauce), because I'm sure she would love it!

Now, I don't know anyone in the fandom yet so I won't tag, but if anyone wants to join in, please feel free to do so :)

Shameless Self Promotion Saturday

Thank you for the tag @rookamell!! I'm so happy you posted your doodles again they are amazing and I love them so much

The idea: We make a post and show off, what cool stuff we created over the past week. Art, Screenshots, writing (anything from a questionnaire about your OC to the 100K epos...) anything we do is worth to be seen and to be promoted. And by tagging people, commenting, and reblogging, we share the love and boost ourselves, and other's confidence. No matter what form you choose, whether you reblog your initial post, or create a new one with teasers, you decide!

Got some stuff bubbling in the background right now, but I had a big week this week by posting my (finally finished) oneshot, A Pie for Lace Harding! Thank you to everyone who has read so far <3 And especially thank you for all the sweet comments you guys are amazing ;A;

(and if you're interested you could also check out my other fic, I'd Give Everything (And More), a oneshot focused on Neve and Rook's tough feelings on friendship!)

I also threw a couple little snippets into the mix with A Word With Friends (featuring love of my life Johanna Hezenkoss) and my last Bellara week post (which honestly I might slowly be converting to shipping Bellara and Davrin haha oops)

And finally! I posted this already but you will see it again! It's Sabi's moodboard (and a bonus Sabi from me experimenting with photo mode)!

Bellara Week was full of such great ideas and cool works! Can't wait for Davrin Week coming up soon :D

Tagging @thedissonantverses, @hedwigoprah, @lgvalenzuela, @davrinsleftpectoral, @antivan-sprig, @mythals-whore, @himluv, @woundedsoul12, aaand @bronzeagelove if you guys wanna share!! And anyone else who wants to, I want to see!!