#tom Blyth

[milliesfishes]

౨ৎ꣑ৎUndressed (Part One)౨ৎ꣑ৎ

౨ৎ꣑ৎmasterlist౨ৎ꣑ৎ [fem reader] contains: accidental breaking and entering pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: in a chase, billy finds you in the woods author’s note: enjoy pt 1! Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

Death is quiet. It enters gracefully and refuses to leave. You could hear someone shouting from the other side, but it was so lovely here. Among the clouds with nary a prayer of disturbance from anything around you. Only peace. Light. Love.

Love. 

If this was heaven, where was he? You blinked, trying to feel around for him, but it was like your hands had no power. They were lost to the living. Panic entered your body, and your lips parted, but the cry you tried to wring out never exited. Dread was your candle as everything grew darker.

He was the last thing you would touch. His name was the last thing you would say.

Earlier... The chase was a crucial part of an outlaw’s life, but it always left a bitter taste of justice in Billy’s mouth. He had known some men who loved it, looked forward to it. Crime for the fun of it was all well and good for some, but it wasn’t his taste. And yet here he was.

The forest was nearly endless. Every tree Billy passed was identical to the next,although he was riding so fast that it all seemed a blur. He could hear the hooves in the distance, their riders hot on his trail. 

It had been one stupid slipup, and now he was stuck. It was a careful dance when stopping somewhere, and this time he’d missed every step. The wanted posters were damning, and it seemed he couldn’t find a town without them. It was surreal to say the least to see his own face staring back at him, a taunting, climbing number above his hat.

He had to give it to the law in this town- they were quick. And relentless. It was miles away and they were still determinedly keeping at his tracks. The bounty on his head must have been upped. No men worth their salt would have chased him this far out of bounds without a little compensation.

The sun was lowering, blinding him in little patches through the leaves patterning the view. He could feel his muscles tensing, growing weary as he looked ahead. His horse wouldn’t be able to keep at it all night, and he wouldn’t either. The riders would have to stop too eventually. It was impossible to know if they’d turn around or camp, but given their tenacity he was almost sure of the latter.

Pulling off into a clearing, Billy dismounted, tugging his horse along behind a patch of thick trees. Crouching behind the brush of scratchy bushes growing alongside it, he kept his palms to the dirt, hoping they would disguise him well enough.  

It wasn’t long before horses thundered past, the voices of their riders echoing. He remained motionless even after the noise faded, unsure if they’d send someone back. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been down that road.

Ten minutes passed. He heard nothing. Billy risked a look over the bushes. Only trees ahead. His horse whinnied next to him, and he patted his white neck. “I know.” 

Stretching his legs, Billy shook them out, turning around. The clearing was wide, surrounding greenery creating a closed off effect. There was something of a path ahead, flowers lining the edges. It piqued his curiosity. All the time he spent riding through patches of nowhere and he’d never seen anything like this before.

“You good here?” he mumbled to his horse, already squinting ahead at the trail. “Okay.”  Leaves and sticks crunching beneath his boots as he moved forward. The path stretched further than he could see, and his curiosity was piqued more by the second. Maybe it led to a cave, or a water source. Either way it would be better than where he was right now. The sun was sinking closer to the earth, and a place to rest was more than ideal.

Taking his horse's reins, he began to move forward. It was unlikely anybody chasing him had noticed this little path. Hell, he hadn’t until he stumbled into it. With any luck, nobody would retrace their steps, and he’d be safe until at least morning. 

Embarking on the trail, Billy noticed how the forest seemed to lighten the further he went. Sure the sky was getting darker still, but there was an undeniable energy about the place that he couldn’t describe. His footsteps grew lighter, mood softening as the reality of the night set in. He wouldn’t have to look over his shoulder tonight, or sleep with his gun clasped in his hand. Everything felt friendlier somehow, like birds would start singing and welcoming him any minute. It only served to make him feel more out of place. 

He wished he had a light. The path wouldn’t do any good if he couldn’t see. And who knew how far it went? It was possible he could be following a trail that lasted miles. Peering into the distance, Billy tried to make something out. Trees, flowers, shadows. A cottage.

A cottage! Far from any civilization, so there couldn’t be anyone inside. The perfect hiding spot for the night. Hurrying forward, Billy wondered how long he could get away with staying. Maybe even a full day? It was obvious how hidden the little structure was the closer he got. The branches of the trees surrounding it created a sort of canopy, and there were bushes winding around a decided perimeter. He’d have to keep this place in mind. It was perfect for a man on the run. 

Billy let his horse free, watching him navigate to a patch of healthy grass nearby. The sun was setting, and his shadow darkened the front door the closer he came. The windows served as mirrors, and he couldn’t make out anything beyond them. 

Billy tried the door. Unlocked. He barely had to turn the rounded handle before it pushed open. The frame was decorated with pink flowers, and he reached up to touch one. Evidently, someone had loved this house once. Looking closely, he saw the flowers engraved in the door handle too.

The interior was more furnished than he’d expected. And there were flowers everywhere. In a vase on every flat surface, braided into ropes that climbed up the legs of chairs and tables. It was charming, very lively.

He was alone for the night. Safe. There was nothing better than this. Wandering into the next room, he reached for the buckle of his gun belt, fiddling with it before looking up and freezing.

Standing in front of him, lips parted in shock, eyes rounder than the middles of the flowers all over the house, stood a girl.

Frozen in place, the strap of your dress falling off your shoulder. It was hardly a dress, the low neck threaded with pale rosy ribbon. Once he realized it was a chemise, he determinedly stared into your eyes, immediately transfixed by the color. Words were born on his tongue and died before they could move past his lips. A girl. A beautiful one. His hand moved instantly, collecting his hat from his head.

You crossed your wrists over your collarbone, the first movement you made in front of him. Swallowing, you opened your mouth again, and he braced himself for a scream. Instead, a soft voice like music lilted the air. He was so lost in the sound that he hardly made out what you were saying.

“Who are you?”

Billy shifted uncomfortably, rigid under your gaze. You were sitting in front of him, a steaming mug of tea in front of you and him each on the table. His leg was bouncing, and he tried to will himself to stop.

He really had been expecting screaming. Maybe crying if he was unlucky. But you were watching him with a sort of curiosity he hadn't encountered before. Your eyes were soft. The innocence you exuded was practically a scent. One that a worse man than him would pick up on and take advantage of immediately.

There was no doubt about your beauty. Pretty girls weren't hard to come across, but a girl who was pretty like you was daisy in a rosebush. Fresh-faced, clean, heartwarming. He couldn't take his eyes off your hair. It looked soft, and he wondered briefly what it'd feel like around one of his fingers.

"You haven't said who you are yet," you reminded him, crossing your legs. You were wearing a dress over your chemise now, a shade of light blue with little embroidered flowers. He kept waiting for you to treat him like a hostage. Instead, you'd poured him tea and acted as though you'd been expecting him.

He took a tentative sip from the mug, aware of your eyes still on him. There didn't seem to be any further danger. It was just you in this cottage as far as he could tell, and you hadn't reacted in a particularly jarring way. It was only scary in the sense that it was unexpected.

Hesitating a moment, he responded, "Billy. My name's Billy." Now that he'd confirmed his identity, he waited for the double take, the wince, the invitation to leave here as fast as possible.

You blinked, a little smile quirking your lips. "Billy." He was a little stunned by your tone. Not a trace of disgust or anger. Billy was so surprised that he nearly missed you saying your own name.

He managed to react. "Pretty." Your smile grew, and he found himself wanting to do it again.

"Billy." Every time you tried his name out, testing it on your tongue, he only wanted to hear it more. You leaned your cheek on your hand, studying him again. He found that he didn't mind being watched by you. "What are you doing here?"

"I was being chased," he said before he could stop himself. "I found this place when I was running away. I didn't think anyone was here or I would've kept movin'."

"It's okay." You sat up, smile still constant. "I don't get many visitors. It's just me and my mother."

"Your mother?" Billy looked around, tensing again. "Is she around?"

"Uh uh." You shook your head to drive the point forward. "She just left this morning. Honestly, she's away more than she's here."

"I see." Billy tried to hide the relief in his voice. You smiled, taking another sip of tea.

"Why were you being chased?" The way you tilted your head...Billy was a goner. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to keep his thoughts under control.

"Ah..." Billy paused, raising his eyebrows. "You...I...?"

You were oblivious. "You what?"

He'd never had to explain this before. "Well...there's a lot of people who don't like me."

"Oh." You furrowed your brow. "That's not very nice."

"It's not." Billy took another sip of his tea, deciding he'd tell you about why they didn't like him later.

"You can stay here for the night if you need to," you offered, blinking wide eyed at him. "My mother won't be back for a long time probably."

"Where'd she go off to?" Billy wasn't sure if a long time meant hours or weeks.

"She's a midwife," you said, following the grain of the tabletop with your finger. "She travels for around a month at a time and then comes home to spend time with me for a few days."

"I see." It struck Billy as odd that you were left alone for such long periods without protection. But the cottage was well hidden, and it seemed like until him, nobody had ever stumbled upon this little patch of heaven. When you smiled at him, he knew it was a good thing nobody had discovered its angel.

"Can I tell you something Billy?" There it was again- his name the way it was always meant to be said. When he nodded, you smiled, lowering your voice and leaning in as if there was someone around who could hear you. He found himself leaning in too. "You're the first man I've ever met."

He raised an eyebrow. "The first, huh?"

You nodded wide-eyed, still whispering. "The very first." Straightening, you crossed your ankles, voice resuming a normal tone. "I'm not supposed to talk to strangers or go into town."

Every fact he learned about you only raised another question. "So you've been here, mostly by yourself for...?"

"I'm nineteen," you said proudly, swinging your feet. "Mother moved us here when I was a baby."

"And she never wanted to take you into town?" he asked skeptically. It was a hard thing to believe- a girl who was wholly untouched by the world.

You bit your cheek, playing with a strand of your hair. "That's another secret."

"Hmm?" He nodded, watching your eyes.

"Well..." you looked to the window, then leaned forward again. He matched you. "There's some very bad people where I was born. People who want to find me."

"Who wants to find you?" Billy couldn't have taken his eyes off you if he tried. You went quiet, looking down and uncrossing and recrossing your ankles. He straightened, nodding. "Sorry."

You brightened again, the sun from behind the clouds. "It's okay." Humming for a moment, you studied him for a moment, shrinking back. "You don't have to stay the night. If you need to keep moving, I understand."

"I'll stay," he said immediately, hoping to see your smile grow. He was thrilled when it did.

"You will?" You leapt to your feet, looking more excited than he'd ever seen anyone.

Now he was smiling. "I will."

"You can have the spare bedroom," you decided, spinning on your heel once and reaching for your tea again. You reminded him of a baby bird getting ready to fly away.

Billy couldn't remember how he'd gotten to this point as he watched you, backlit by the window. The sun was pushing its fingers through your hair, making you look otherworldly. Everything about you, from the way your fingers wound around the handle of your mug to your subtle swaying, drew him in. If this was a trap, it was doing a good job.

He could stay here forever, even if it meant only watching you for the rest of his days. There was something enchanting about you that felt like a daydream. And Billy would be a fool to resist. This was the first bit of kindness he'd been shown in ages. He was thirsty for it, especially when it was coming from the purest source of light he'd ever encountered.

Besides that, there was an air of mystery that enveloped you, more questions than answers giving way with every move you made. It was rare to find a woman so unburdened by the world's frivolities, rarer still for her to be so isolated. As pretty as you were, there should be a murderous husband or overprotective father in your shadow. Billy wasn't one for poking his head into other folk's business, but he found himself craving it. The essence of you.

You seemed blissfully unaware of it all. Like your comfort laid in lack of answers. He almost wanted to find them for you, find a way to protect you from them. Nothing would ever disturb your peace if he had anything to say about it.

Perking up, your brow knit into itself as your gaze landed in the direction of the front door. Billy stood up, instantly ready to fix whatever had banished your smile.

"Is that...?" You tilted your head.

Billy could hear it now too. Horses.

"More visitors," you decided, beginning to move for the front. Billy held out an arm before you could get past him. He could hear the sounds of men now, though their words were unclear. You pulled at his shirtsleeve, looking up. "Billy-"

"Hold on," he started, and you fell silent, still hanging onto his arm. In normal circumstances, he would be weak over your warm fingers through the fabric of his shirt. But now he was more focused on the look on your face, the way you began to shrink behind him with the realization that maybe they weren't just visitors.

It was quiet for a moment. Then a pounding on the door made you jump. Billy unwittingly wrapped his arm around you, wincing internally at himself until you hid your face in his chest.

He had a suspicion, but he didn't want to say anything yet. Maybe it was someone else, another group of men that happened to be passing by. Holding his breath and you, he kept his eyes ahead, ready to draw his gun at any moment.

"Open up!" You gasped, and he tightened his arm around you. "We know Billy the Kid's in here!"

"Billy?" You sounded scared, and he could have kicked himself.

"That's his horse out front! You have five seconds before we break down the door!"

He gritted his teeth, looking around as if a magic door would appear. Though this wasn't unfamiliar to him, this encounter had him feeling more sour on the inside due to the girl in his arms. This had to be a new record.

Less than an hour and he'd already dragged you into the life you'd been so fiercely protected from.

Next Part (coming soon)

[snowcote]

Pre 10th hunger games Coriolanus and Clemensia

🎨smuwwfi (please check out her Spotify)

[lucygxybaird]

billy x shy reader - preview

“You with me, sweetheart?” Billy says softly, ducking his head to look you in the eye. “If you really wanna go home, we—”

You shake your head firmly. You don’t want to go home, not least of all because you know Billy really wants to stay; it’s hard for you, to be around people you don’t know very well, but Billy is the type of man who has never met a stranger. He likes parties like this (at least ones that are given by his friends, rather than — for example — a selfish, self-serving smarmy slimeball with an Irish accent and a proclivity for taking what doesn’t belong to him). 

You’re determined to stay at least an hour for him, maybe two if you can manage it. You know you’re going to be exhausted by the end of the evening, wrung out like a rag hung on the line, but you want to stick it out for Billy’s sake. 

It does help that he looks good. You love to see him in his neatly pressed shirt and waistcoat, the string tie — which you helped knot — around his neck, his hair neatly combed and smelling faintly of the apple-scented pomade he uses to make that sweet little cowlick he has lay flat. As if he’s reading your mind, Billy leans down further, his lips brushing against your ear. 

“Everybody’s gonna be jealous of me, walkin’ in with you on my arm,” he says. “Stick close to me, honey. I don’t want anyone stealing you away.” 

You only have time to giggle before the door is swinging open, revealing one of Tunstall’s maids. She gestures for you to come inside, and by the time you’ve flashed her a small, tight smile, people have already come up to Billy. You relax a little when you realize you recognize some of them — Manuela and Charlie, Tom, Mr. McSween and his wife, Susan. 

“You look lovely,” Susan says, smiling softly as she cups your elbow.

Your heart gives a little uneven thud, and you swallow. “Thank you,” you murmur, the corners of your mouth flickering briefly in return. 

You don’t let go of Billy’s arms as Charlie and Billy start talking about the last herd of cattle they moved for Tunstall, with Manuela and Susan chiming in every now and then — how Charlie came home late one evening, a cow pie smeared all over his boots and the seat of his pants; how Susan remembers one summer when she stayed with her uncle, who raised cows, and she gave them all flower names. 

You have a story yourself, one about your father trying (and failing) to get a cow up a flight of stairs to play a trick on a friend of his, but you can’t quite get your mouth to work. 

Even though you know these people, your throat still feels a little tight, the pit of your stomach going hollow, like you’re balancing on a tightrope. A part of you knows you’re being ridiculous. It’s the part that sounds an awful lot like your mother, when she would tell you to speak up, to enunciate, to stop hunching your shoulders. 

You wish you could explain it to her — to anyone — but it’s so difficult to put into words. 

Sometimes you feel as though who you really are is wrapped up in all these layers, wound around and around you, bound up so tight that it can be suffocating. You have to fight tooth and nail to drag out the same words, the same smiles, that seem to come so easily to everyone else. 

It takes time, to get through those layers, and not many people seem to want to put forth the effort. Certainly not at a gathering like this, where they’re just trying to have fun. And you can’t really blame them for that. You yourself have often wondered if what they find is worth the effort. 

Then, of course, there’s Billy. He’s never once made you feel like getting to know you, working through the awkward pauses and nervous huffs of laughter, the uncertain silences, is anything less than a pleasure. As if all that is nothing but a treasure map, and you’re the fortune waiting on the other end.

[slaymitchabernathy]

i literally GIGGLE over the fact that before TBOSAS we were like so hateful towards coriolanus snow, like everytime that mf was on screen we were foaming at the mouth with hatred. we wanted nothing to do with that old grandpa (donald, thank you for portraying him so well, we miss you)

then BOOM. TBOSAS drops, more specifically the trailer drops & well, well, well, what do we have here? white boy of the month shows up & we are flocking to write fanfiction abt him. we went from hating him to hopping onto wattpad, ao3, & tumblr with shit like: “he tenderly caressed her head for she was his most precious, delicate rose.”

like we are so unserioussss.

it got to the point when the movie came out that we had to literally go: “remember who the real enemy is” bc that was my man on screen & no one could tell me any different. repeating what the older version of him did to finnick & everyone else in the books like peeta repeating the 3 facts he knew abt himself after being hijacked.

tom blyth, the man you are bc you literally caused like half of the fandom to switch sides for a hot second. the moment i saw him in that trailer in the blood red coat i said to myself: “someone has to write a fanfiction abt this white man” & then SWMA was born.

mentally preparing for us to all do the same when SOTR comes out :)))

[jeida-chi]

Wanted to try out something… drew up a snowbaird repeating pattern!! My first time making one of those so I think I did pretty well 😅

I made it available on several products on my redbubble if anyone has any interest!

[tomblythsource]

some letterboxd reviews after the first screening of plainclothes

[tomblyth95]

1/27/2025-💥💥💥

[milliesfishes]

I've been so behind on fics HELLO I'M SO OBSESSED WITH THIS!! pov Billy trying to find a universe with a girl whose cat likes him. HEY THIS FIRST LINE To you, Billy was a reluctant friend slowly wrapping vines of ivy around your ankles and up your calves. You didn't mind the itch of his constant presence on your mind, especially when the final destination of its growth was your heart. You were too busy setting up the trellis to be concerned about keeping it trimmed, anyway. HEY that's gorgeous also him calling her sunshine 🥺🥺🥺🥺I'll cry forever

moon river // part two

summary: people in lincoln county are dropping dead alongside their livestock, the wells are running dry and children are prompted from their beds to wander unconsciously in the night. billy has been hired as a last resort by the lawmen as a bounty hunter, charged with the task of hunting and killing the witch responsible in exchange for a reward and the clearing of his name. how could he turn that down?

pairing: william h. bonney x fem!reader

wc: 2k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: witch!reader x bounty hunter!billy, warning for like,,, witchcraft and stuff i suppose?? mentions of death, minor amounts of gore and animal mutilation. devil worship and other supernatural/biblical tea. also angst. probably.

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // pinterest board // playlist

To you, Billy was a reluctant friend slowly wrapping vines of ivy around your ankles and up your calves. You didn't mind the itch of his constant presence on your mind, especially when the final destination of its growth was your heart. You were too busy setting up the trellis to be concerned about keeping it trimmed, anyway.

He would come and go from your forest home like the change of seasons that turned more and more often as time went on. He'd sit with you while you tended the graves, and spend afternoons with you in your cabin while you baked fresh bread or cookies, willing to eat whatever you made even if he couldn't for the life of him figure out where your ingredients came from.

"You know," You hum one day, sitting on a blanket outside your little cabin that was almost as covered in ivy as you felt. "You are lucky the town isn't really cursed."

Billy scoffs out a laugh from his spot next to you, laid back on the blanket with his hat over his face to simulate a nap in the sun he wasn't truly taking. "Yeah, I'd say so."

"Well, of course, but what I mean is that you folks went about it all wrong." You explain, closing and placing the book in your lap to the side. "With a curse of that magnitude, typically it culminates with the casting witch's death. So if you had found them and killed them like you planned, it would've only gotten worse."

"Darlin', sounds like you're still pleading with me for your life." Billy chuckles, lifting his hat a little bit to be able to look over at you from beneath its shade. He's met with his favourite view, you, with the sunlight dancing off your skin and gleaming with the strength of your smile.

You roll your eyes playfully, gently picking up some stray leaves of grass from the blanket and tossing them aside. "I know you're not gonna kill me," You giggle, "and you know I'm not responsible."

"That I do." He confirms, pushing himself to sit up. He takes in the view surrounding your home, the trees that encase this little paradise made up of a small frog pond and an unsurprisingly extensive garden. You grew nearly everything you ate out here, the forest providing you with a perfect amount of sun to help them grow and rain to help them thrive. That's what he assumed, anyway.

"It is, anyway though. Gettin' worse." He mumbles after a few moments of contemplative quiet, helping you dust off the blanket and peeking casually over at the cover of your book. The Eldritch Arbetorum I. He knows less than nothing about what that means, but part of him wishes he could.

"The crops and such? I'm sorry to hear that." You frown, chewing on your lip while you think about it. Maybe there was something you could do, but you doubted the townsfolk would let you get close enough for a long enough period to try. "What about the animals?"

"Every week, like clockwork." Billy replies with a click of his tongue and the slightest shake of his head.

You chew on your lip, watching him closely. It's weighing on him, you can tell. From what he's told you he's a wanted man, yes, but he has a good heart. You know that much for sure. Even when he came all this way carting a bullet with your name, he was doing it to save people.

"What about..." You start, hesitating on how to ask this. "The local children? All are well?"

Billy scrunches up his nose a bit in thought, still avoiding your eyes. "Well enough, from what I know. None have died, at least. I hear whispers that some are sick."

Your cat, Dante, scurries through the grass and onto the blanket beside you, chirping toward you as he crawls up onto your lap. Instinctively you let your hands find comfort in his fluffy orange fur, taking in Billy's words.

The children are okay, that's all that really matters.

"Good, that's good." You say softly, giving him a reassuring smile. "I'm sure they will recover well. I'll send you back with some tonic, if you would be willing to leave it with the parents. Something that should help."

"Yeah... yeah, that would be nice." Billy's already considering how exactly he would go about that- not many folks liked an outlaw dampening their doorsteps. Especially not to give them something for their kids to drink. He would have to leave it on the porch with a note, or something. Then it would be up to them to decide how desperate they were for a solution to their kids plight. "Why do you ask, though? About the kids."

Your eyebrows raise slightly in shock, and it takes you a second to respond. A second in which Dante takes the opportunity to glare at Billy, a low growl leaving his tiny form. He had yet to forgive Billy for trying to take his mom from him, though it was a mystery how he knew about that. Or maybe it was the fact that he hadn't met another living soul in the five years of his short life in which he had been out here in the woods with you, but Dante made it clear at every turn that he did not like your new friend.

You gently pat the cat's head to get him to stop, which he promptly does, before you come up with an answer.

"I was just wondering." You say, tilting your head with a smile that's mildly dismissive. "You know, if people are falling ill. I was hoping the kids would be spared."

"Yeah, fair enough." Billy agrees, his eyes darting between you and your fluffy orange companion. He tended to become a lot more skittish around Dante, ironically enough- but that likely came from being bit and swatted at by tiny claws one too many times over the last few weeks.

You reach over the edge of a blanket to a nearby flower blossoming from the healthy dirt that surrounded your home, swirling your hand around its unopened petals. Your action seems to encourage it to bloom, and Billy watches, his smile returning and the worried crease in his brow ceasing as you gently pluck the stem from the ground. "For you."

He was in awe of you at every turn, his cheeks flushing as he takes the flower from your extended hand. "Thank you, darlin'." He grins, turning the stem to look at it before looking up at you again. "I ain't ever been given a flower before. That's sweet of you."

He brings it up to his nose to smell its purple petals in a somewhat dramatic gesture before grabbing his hat and tucking it under the black ribbon around the outside. "You like it?" He asks as he places it back on his head.

"Yeah." You giggle, nodding as you look at the new accessory to his hat. It wouldn't last forever, but for now, it was cute. Even as it further blurred the lines of what your relationship was. Though, that was mostly your doing by gifting him a flower in the first place. "Purple is a good colour on you, I think."

"Ah, thanks, sunshine." He chuckles, removing the hat to examine it further. "It suits you a bit more, I'm not much for colours myself."

"You like blue, though." You reply, pleased to move on from the anxiety inducing topic of the problems going on in town. "And that red sweater."

"That's true." He admits, shrugging slightly. "My ma always dressed me in blue, though. She gave me that sweater too, matter of fact."

"A mother's touch, I see. She had good taste. As most mothers do." You say, with that same lighthearted tone that keeps him coming back to visit you. That, among a variety of other things, being just about everything about the energy you exude in waves. A silent battle he's been waging in his mind for a long time now; whether you get your power from the forest or if it gets it from you. Secretly, he's leaning toward the latter.

The topic of his family was something he hated breaching in the best of times, but your voice, sweet like honey in his ears makes it easier. You seem to do that with everything you touch.

When the skies outside of the forest started darkening in the coming weeks, perpetually clouded but never granting the county a drop of its refreshing rain, people got more anxious. It was like a palpable negativity in the air, crowding the increasingly empty main street. It was nearly always quiet, never a direct threat but people were packing up and leaving based on the energy in the air alone- and Billy couldn't blame them in the slightest.

It was noon, around midday, he was sure- when the overcast and dim sky provided enough cover for a break in. About twenty yards prior he'd dismounted to lead her, after she started to get clearly irritated and not want to take the worn path they normally did to get to the edge of your forest.

The sound of glass shattering at a nearby home drowns out the crickets song, making Billy turn his head toward the commotion coming from the ranch home not far off. Then the screaming, a woman's scream- the scream of a mother losing a child, a cry he had heard before and rocked him to his core in a way that made his stomach turn and his feet move in that direction against his will.

Dante alerted you to Billy's near arrival, high pitched meows quickly approaching the porch as he hops up onto the window sill in your little cottage kitchen.

"Oh, hush- it's just Billy." You scold him with a slight laugh, reaching up to ruffle the cats fur. The insistent meows continued, and you could feel the prick of his upturned hairs, which told you something was wrong, this time. It was Billy though, you could feel his energy in the air. The usual dreary grey feeling of loss and loneliness normally overshadowed by his cheerful blue, the weight of his good intentions falling dull to the sadness this afternoon.

You glance out the window, brow furrowing slightly as you quickly hang the last few bits of lavender to dry on the twine to be draped over the rafters this evening. Brushing your hands off on the front of your skirt and hurrying to the door, you're not sure what happened or what you're about to be met with, but Dante follows dutifully.

"Billy?" You call, just as he comes into the clearing, having forced his horse to carry him quicker through the trail he would normally take on foot, through the thick trees and branches that this time parted to let him through.

He jumps down from his horse, narrowly avoiding falling into your little pond and disturbing the family of toads you know don't like to be unsettled during the late afternoon.

You reach out with a slight wince, but relax when he steps over the edge of the water in his effort to get to you, digging into his pocket and holding out his flask with urgency as he grabs your upper arm, startling you away from your relief that the toads would be okay.

Billy's eyes are wide, hair mussed under his hat and breathing slightly shallow as you look up at him with a confused furrow to your brow.

"Can you tell me what's in here?"

no taglist this time around!! my fics usually get over a hundred requests to be added to the taglist so instead i made a library! follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on notifs to get updates when i post new parts!!

[a-romantics-guide-to-life]

✎ᝰᝰ studying with alex ᝰᝰ

no one ever said university was simple, but they never told you how hard it could get. good thing alex is there every step of the way, right next to you

ALEXXX!!! this has been in my drafts for so long but the stress of school has got to me so here we go, hope you enjoy!

The words on your crystal screen started to blur and glitch as you reread the same paragraph ten times over. Your eyes start to water with annoyance, scalding tears running down your face.

You bury your face into your hands, your teeth grinding against each other trying to will the tears away before anyone could see you. The air suddenly felt so light, a hand going to your back gently rubbing soothing circles, and hearts, against your back. You look up to meet golden eyes staring back at you. Your tears cease, as Alex’s hand cups your cheek.

“What's wrong?” His sandy eyes wrinkled up in worry, his thumb wiping the tears from your cheeks.

You sniffle, “I just can’t read this Alex. Like I see the words but they aren’t making sense in my brain. I’ve tried everything, reading them out loud, translating them in simpler language. I even watched a fucking YouTube video to try and understand it more but nothing. Nada. And it makes me want to just rip my hair out.”

Your head falls into your hands again as you feel more tears slip from your eyes. You knew it was a stupid thing to be upset about, your chest aching with fire and anger, hatred and disgust at your pitiful display in the library no less.

You hid your face from Alex, scared to see what his reaction was. Would his eyes harden in anger, or would they soften with sympathy? Or perhaps his eyebrows would raise and a look of surprise and embarrassment would fall over his face.

But, as Alex lifts your head to meet your eyes, you find that his face was instead red. His eyes were closed, his face solemn. He leaned in and rested his forehead against yours. 

You could have sworn that a tear fell out of his eye.

He sat there next to you in silence. Your breaths mixed together as you sat there together in silence. Your laptop’s screen had long turned pitch black, Alex’s books lay discarded on the table as you try to calm yourself.

You lift your face, your head aching from the waterfalls of your eyes. Alex looks at you, his eyes glassy and his brunet hair messy. He kisses your cheeks, making your cheeks go red and tense up into a low smile.

“How about this, I’ll read the passage to you and then you can try and teach it to me.”

Your eyes widened, “b-but what if I don’t know what the concept is? What if I don’t understand it and I explain it wrong?”

“Then we’ll ask the great Google and deep dive into it or we can phone a friend who might.” Alex sits up in his seat, opening your laptop (he had guessed your password, AL3X&M3!, the week before). He starts to read the textbook chapter pulled up. He starts reading it, asking you if you're good along the way. Once he finished a subsection, he’d ask you to explain the concept to him, asking specific questions.

And so you study with him. You spent hours reading your textbooks, finishing your assignments, but you also took breaks. Breaks filled with soft kisses and quick trips to the campus cafe.

Of course everything was worth it when you saw the look on Alex’s face after getting an A on your presentation you were studying so hard for. And especially after you walked the stage with him at graduation.

[venusbyline]

i can fix him (no really i can)

[ayo-edebiri]

The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes (2023) + tweets

[xplore-the-unknwn]

Coriolanus Snow in TBOSAS a summary:

[vivicendium]

i think something that elevates the hunger games franchise is not just the quality of writing but the integrity of it. tbosas isn’t just a cash-grab by suzanne collins in the age of sequels and reboots (though i won’t pretend that didn’t play a part), it’s a character study of the main antagonist with a different structure than the main trilogy. and importantly, it doesn’t just re-hash the same old themes and beats the main trilogy had, it expands on not just the world of the hunger games but the themes as well, it actually has something new to say about the trilogy’s themes about class, capitalism, power, and control, in a way that couldn’t be explored with the main story because the protagonist of that story simply did not have access to the world that’s being explored in tbosas.

i understand the people who call for books/movies to be made about haymitch, finnick, johanna, different years of the games — we love those characters and want to see more of them! i’d kill for a novella on finnick’s days mentoring tributes, or katniss’s parents falling in love. but at the end of the day we probably wouldn’t be very satisfied with those stories being fleshed out if they had absolutely nothing new to say about the world, they’d be enjoyable, but not as interesting and engaging as tbosas has been.

[cosmicschmidt]

I need this man biblically.

[ghostfacd]

YOU CAN LET GO NOW ! | TOM BLYTH

PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader

SUMMARY. in which tom blyth can’t let go of your hand after an intense argument scene in your film

installment of this au | your character and Tom’s lines in the film are written in italics

“Action!”

Tom and you have probably been on your tenth cut by now, the scene was an argument between yours and his character, Balleona and Coriolanus. It was fierce and intense, filled with lots of angry yelling and a few tears.

Needless to say, your director was on both of your asses to make sure you got everything down perfectly, from the lines and hand movements to the crocodile tears.

“You can’t just expect everything to be okay Coriolanus!” You yell exasperated. You look up at Tom, who was currently looking down at you with a cold gaze. “You decided to cheat! You decide to risk your entire career for Lucy Gray, now you go sit with the consequences!”

Tom slams his hand on the table nearby, making you flinch back. “I had to! I did it for us! All of it! The rat poison—the scarf—I did everything for us! And now you repay me by yelling at me like a child?!”

You push Tom back with an accusing finger, eyes lingering with hurt. “You’re acting like a child Coriolanus Snow! I told you that my family has enough money, enough for you to go to university. But you just had to ruin the entire system, didn’t you? Is it Lucy Gray? The disgusting filth from District 12? Is she influencing you?”

Tom places his hand on your chin, grabbing it harshly, making you let out a whine.

“You don’t speak about her like that, do you understand?” Tom tightens his grip, making your hands come up to try to get out of his grasp. “Do you understand?!” He yells, causing you to close your eyes tightly.

“Let me go, you’re hurting me.” You say, “Coryo, let go, you’re hurting me.”

Tom’s eyes suddenly switched from anger to softness, and he lets go of his hold on your face. “I’m sorry sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

He brings you into a hug, letting you bury your head into his chest. “You know I didn’t mean it right? You know you’re more important to me than Lucy Gray—that’s why I did all of this. It was for you.”

You nod, letting out a few tears. Tom breaks the hug to hold your hand, his other one coming up to wipe them away.

“And.. cut!”

Tom stops wiping the tears that have fallen down to your cheeks, sighing in relief when the director says that they don’t have to redo the scene again.

However, he’s still holding tightly on your hand, nodding slowly at each of the words that come out from the director’s mouth.

“You okay?” You whisper to him.

“Hm? Yeah, no, I’m fine.” He reassures you, smiling down at your figure. “I’m a bit thirsty. Water?”

You smile and nod, letting him walk you two over to the water dispenser. He’s still holding firmly onto your hand, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by your co stars, Rachel and Josh.

“Geez Blyth, do you always have such a possessive hold on our dear Y/N here?” Rachel jokes, smiling teasingly at you two.

You roll your eyes, looking up at your boyfriend. He doesn’t seem to hear Rachel’s words, instead, focusing on getting the two of you water.

“Do you want some Rachel? Josh?”

“I’m good,” Rachel replies, “and Josh is too. We were gonna head out to this smoothie place for our lunch break.”

“Ah.” With his free hand, Tom pulls you closer to him until you’re practically leaning against him. “Well have fun you two.”

Rachel and Josh say their thanks, but before they leave, Rachel slips by you, whispering “he’s stuck to you like glue, isn’t he?” in your ear.

You try to hold in your smile, butterflies filling your stomach. Despite shooting the scene 15 minutes ago, Tom was still holding onto your hand as if you were his lifeline.

“Hey babe,” you say, which automatically makes all the gears in Tom’s hand focus their attention on you.

“Hm?”

“How come you’re still holding onto my hand?”

He seems to be surprised at your words, glancing down briefly at your intertwined fingers.

“Oh, I didn’t realize.” He says, shrugging.

“Yeah,” you tease him. “Obsessed with me aren’t you?”

He rolls his eyes, but nods in agreement. “Just a habit I guess. I felt really bad for yelling at you so much in the scene and grabbing your face. I’d never do that in real life.”

You let out a laugh, making Tom furrow his eyebrows in confusion.

“Aww Tom,” you say, leaning into his chest with your head. “I know you would never do that in real life baby. It’s just acting.”

“I know,” he sighs. “I just hate arguing with you, whether it’s acting or not. Coriolanus is a loser for not realizing what he has, you know.”

Now that made you laugh even louder, “yeah, but Tom Blyth is a sweetheart.” You tippy toe to reach his nose, placing a small kiss on the bridge of it. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[darknight3904]

It Burns For You

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ ɢʀᴏᴡ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴘɪᴛᴏʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴᴇꜱ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ɴᴏɴᴇ, ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ. ᴏᴏᴄ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ, ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴛᴏᴛᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ʜᴇᴇʟꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ. ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ!

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ

Coriolanus is 12 when he sees you for the first time. Your red uniform is pressed perfectly and your school bag looks brand new. Your lunch consisted of a hearty-looking sandwich with roast beef and lettuce and a container of fresh fruit that had his mouth-watering.

"Do you want a piece? Our maid always packs too much and I can never finish it. You can have some if you want." Your voice fills his ears

A delicate-looking hand is holding a juicy-looking strawberry in front of him. He reaches for it and it takes every ounce of self-control he has not to shove it in his mouth. Instead, he takes a small bite and thanks you for sharing.

"Don't you have a lunch today?" You ask

He doesn't. The school had said they would start supplying the students with lunches soon but how soon? Coriolanus had already been attending for a number of years and still nothing.

"I already ate it." He lied

"You're still hungry though. You can have the rest." You say with a smile as you push your fruit bowl to him.

"Is it your first day?" He asks

"Yes, my mother thought that my governess wasn't doing a good job so she had my father enroll me here. I miss being at home with my new kitten though. She has long white hair and she is the cutest thing in the whole world." You said

Coriolanus can't believe that you had your own governess, let alone a pet to call your own. He later learns from Arachne that your father became incredibly rich by manufacturing weaponry for the Capitol. Despite your inherent wealth, you've never flashed it around him.

You and Coriolanus are 15 when you discover all the lies he tells at school about his family. He had left his uniform jacket behind on his chair and you got his home address from Sejanus, meaning to give it back so he'd have it for tomorrow. Instead, you had discovered the Snow's decrepit-looking building and barely functioning penthouse. Coriolanus' heart nearly stops when he emerges from his room to see you and his Grandma'am sitting together as she compliments your shoes.

"What are you doing here?" He asks, ready for your judgment and teasing words

"I wanted to return your jacket, Coryo. You'll need it for tomorrow."

The red of the jacket in your arms matches his face as he ushers you to the door, trying to hide the fact that Tigris was preparing cabbage in the kitchen that would undoubtedly stink the entire place up with the scent of the Snow's poverty.

"Stop rushing me, your cousin invited me to stay for dinner." You say trying to stop the way he is leading you to the door.

"You don't want what she is making. Tigris is a terrible cook." He said

Tigris lets out a shout of disagreement from the stove and Coriolanus ignores it.

"How about, I go out and get something to add to the meal Tigris is cooking, and by the time I get back you change your attitude about me staying for dinner Coryo. "

And with that, you walk out the door and slam it in his face. He's rather stunned at your declaration but knows you're serious. He rushes around their home, trying to clean up what he can while Tigris laughs at his frantic motions. Then, just as he was debating whether or not he wanted to change out of his uniform, you return from your short trip to the closest market.

"I wasn't sure what Tigris is cooking so I got a couple of things." You say placing the bags on the table.

Coriolanus is sure you spent a fortune on what is in these bags. Fresh bread accompanied by a sickly sweet fruit spread and a block of butter sits in one while the other holds something else in a brown box. You take your seat next to him at the ugly little table he has eaten too many meals at and cut a piece of the bread for Grandma'am. He is worried when Tigris starts portioning out the cabbage she cooked on the stove. Coriolanus watches your expression as you take a bite but nothing that he expected happens. You don't knit your brows in disgust or get up to leave and take your fresh bread and mysterious box with you. Instead, you go back for a second bite and compliment what Tigris has done with the food.

He sits stiffly next to you and can barely accept the slice of bread you offer him. You excuse yourself to use the bathroom and Tigris reaches across the table and pinches his shoulder.

"Stop sitting like that, Coryo!" She scolds

"Like what?" He asks,aware that Tigris meant how oddly straight his back was.

"You're making her uncomfortable. You've been friends with her for years she isn't worried about what our home looks like." Tigris says

"She might not be but what happens when she goes to school tomorrow and talks?" He asks

He shuts up when he hears the sound of the bathroom door opening again.

"That was lovely Tigris. I've never had anything like it, I'll have to invite you all to my own home for dinner sometime. Our cook makes these pastries that are simply wonderful. They even get sold at local markets, which leads to this..."

His eyes widen when you finally unveil what was hiding in that second bag. A dozen expensive looking deserts sit in the brown box you brought, each one decorated differently.

"I hope I picked something everyone would like. I know Coryo mentioned that Grandma'am liked chocolate so I picked this one just for her."

Coriolanus feels a wide smile stretch across his face as you pass out your little desserts. His worries about you gossiping to their peers fade from view as he bites into what he thinks is a croissant. You laugh at his reaction and toss a napkin at his face which is most likely covered in the gooey fruit filling that was in his pastry.

He walks you back to your home that night and thanks you for making his night. He can't remember the last time Grandma'am had smiled from eating chocolate. You accept his thanks and gently tell him that he shouldn't be ashamed about his financial situation. He never gets to disagree with you though because a soft kiss is pressed to his lips followed by a rushed,

"Goodnight, Coryo! Thanks for the cabbage!"

He walks back to his own home with a jump in his step. Thoughts of you consume him as he smiles to himself, proud his first kiss was shared with you. He feels his heart burn with something that felt like it was going to come up and out his mouth as he finally made it back to his room, you officially had him wrapped around your finger.

Your room is flooded with sunlight the first time Coriolanus sees it. A soft, silky-looking bed spread sits atop one of the biggest beds he has seen as you beckon to your cat, Maisy to come and say hello to him. He looks at the oversized wooden dresser that sits against one wall. He sees the photograph of him and you that was taken a few weeks ago at your 17th birthday party nestled among little knickknacks. Books Coriolanus has never even heard of line your shelves as he you place a record on the player that sits on your desk. Soft sounds of a piano and the words from an unnamed singer fill your gorgeous room as he turns to you.

"Do you want to dance?" He finds himself asking

You accept and he leads you or well tries to. You're rather stiff and it turns out dancing is harder than it looks because he isn't any good at it either. You laugh as he trips over his feet and end up falling with him, landing on the ground entangled in each other. Your fingers brush his curls from his eyes as his nose brushes yours.

"What're you doing?" You ask quietly

"Nothing." He responds, his eyes flicking to your lips.

The moment his lips touch yours, a tingle shoots down his spine. This is a real kiss, not what you gave him when you were both 15. He cups your face and your hands are tangled in his hair as he deepens it. He felt his head spin as you moved against him, almost as if you wanted him to swallow you whole right here on your bedroom floor. A giddy feeling swelled in his chest when he pulled away for air.

"Coryo...what was that?" You ask

"I thought you'd know by now. That was a kiss, darling." He laughed brushing his thumb across your lip

"I know that...but why'd you give me one?" You ask

"Don't you know?" He smiles and places a chaste kiss on your lips "My heart, it burns for you, it always has."

Part 2 is out now!

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