#ultimately just wanting to be her rock. make her feel safe and secure and comfortable for the first time

[eye-of-yelough]

hmmm thinkign about. slater trying and failing to make sera happy again 😐👍

[thearchivistsjournal]

Day 246,

The mists are here.  We knew we were going to be cutting it close, but still, it’s frustrating, and I’ll admit a little frightening, to get caught out in them when we’re nearly home.

There was some debate over whether to keep going, using the bracelets to home in on Vernon as a guide or to just stay where we are until tomorrow.  Ultimately the latter won out.  While the bracelets might keep us in the right direction, there’s no guarantee that they’ll keep us from running into a rock or a reef or something.  And with us still being at least a day and a half out, we’d still be spending the night on the boats either way.  Besides, we’ve been gone nearly a month now, what’s one more day?

We spent the morning before the mists got too thick gathering up materials to try to make an anchor for the boats tonight, as well as some longer thick branches that we’re trying to use to keep the boats together pontoon style.  That said, neither boat has any good place to secure such a pontoon strut onto, so I’m not confident that part is going to hold.

As for the anchor - well, anchors really - it’s simply a matter of a bunch of vines tied around the largest rocks we could find and carry.  I’m only slightly more confident in how well that will hold, but we have to make do with what we’ve got.  Next time we need to bring actual rope.

Now it’s just a matter of waiting around on the shore until it’s nearly dark and then pushing the boats out a little ways to sleep on safe from shades for the night.  Attempt to sleep on anyway.  For once on a mist night I’m more worried about not being able to sleep than the nightmare that will come if I do.

*******

Writing from the boat.  Still can’t get to sleep.  Anchor is holding though.  There’s just the one shade, far as I can tell.  A black patch in the starlit grey mist, accentuated by the lights of its eyes watching us from the shore.

*******

Fear I won’t sleep tonight.  Just can’t get comfortable.  With the benches arranged the way they are, there’s only one spot halfway decent for sleeping without being too terribly cramped and Lin’s in it.  She wasn’t taking up nearly as much of it earlier, but I can hardly blame her for rolling over in her sleep.  Don’t want to wake her to try to make more room for myself.  She’d probably understand, but it just feels selfish.

So back to the old writing-as-insomnia-cure.  And if that doesn’t work, maybe straining my eyes from trying to read and write in the dark will do me in.

Just glanced toward shore.  Don’t see the shade.

Tried to peer over to see if Maiko and Cass are still okay in the other boat (they are) and happened to glance down at the water.  Two glowing dots down below staring back up at me.

It’s not that they can’t go in water, they’re just bound to the earth beneath it.

Time to try again to sleep.

<==Previous          Next==>

[rev-wrath]

Help

Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: Jason comes home to a distressed partner.

Notes: Hurt/comfort. Reader uses she/her pronouns. 0.6k words.

Warnings: Reader has a anxiety attack.

There’s little light in the place when Jason walks through it. Only the little battery operated baubles on tables are on. He frowns before calling out, “Babe?”

“Jason.” It’s more a cry than anything. Broken and small. And once he runs to the corner he heard her in, she looks small. Knees to her chest, rocking back and forth, hands clutching the side of her head.

She lets out a sob. “Help.” Any other thought is out the window. He has to stay calm.

Crouching down beside her, reaching for her arms to pull her hands away. “Are you hurt? What happened?” Leaning up just a bit to see if there’s blood on her head. Nothing.

She shakes her head. “I just- the-“ She sounds like she can hardly breathe. “I can’t.” Crumpling against his chest with another cry, body shaking. He lets go of her arms to wrap his own around her.

“I’m here. I’ve got you. Do what you need to do.”

Every shake and high pitched cry makes his heart ache. He just wants to cry with her, for her. Figure out why this is happening and fix it or help her fix it. Instead he holds her, mumbling gentle reassurances.

He’s not sure how long they sit there, but eventually she moves out his arms and back against the wall. Body still shaking, tears still falling, and breath still faltering, but less, better.

Jason leans forward, voice still soft and gentle. “I’m going to get you some water, okay? I’ll be right back.”

She nods. “Okay.”

“Love you.” He’s up and leaving before she can process it. Without Jason there she doesn’t have anything to focus on, something to easily ground her. Sucking in a breath she tries to focus on her surroundings.

Jason grabs her reusable bottle off the table. Opening to check it, he sees there’s a little bit of water left. He heads off to refill it. He has to keep his mind focused. Figure out what happened and how to help. Most importantly he needs to stay calm. For her at least.

Filling the bottle up he secures it before heading back to his partner. Crouching down once more he offers it to her.

“Here.” Her hands shake a little bit but she takes it nonetheless. Carefully bringing it to her lips and taking a sip. The sensation helps a bit.

“What happened, (Y/N)?” He keeps his voice gentle, eyeing her. She keeps her eyes on the ground.

“I just- my thoughts took over.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t really remember them.” She just remembers the panic coursing through her.

“Okay.” He exhales. “Okay. You wanna sleep for a bit?”

She thinks about it, but ultimately decides that she just doesn’t feel like it. It might help, it might not. Either way she’s not feeling it. She shakes her head.

“Alright. Want else? Food, hoodie, blanket, TV?”

“Blanket. Please. And,” she hesitates. “cuddles. Hold me?”

“Yeah. Of course, love. Be right back. Drink some more water.” He kisses her forehead.

Eyeing the nearest piece of furniture she presses herself in the corner further. She feels safe here. Knowing Jason’s nearby makes her feel… good.

Her partner comes back with a fluffy blanket that he wraps around her.

“Good?”

She nods. “Yeah.”

Sitting down next to her he pulls her into his arms. She’s half on his legs, her upper half against his.

“This okay?”

“Can you… talk?” She feels ridiculous with the way that’s phrased. “I just, I don’t want it to be quiet.”

Jason immediately starts talking about some random thing. Nothing either of them have to pay much attention to.

Here in his arms, she thinks she’ll be okay. For now at least. After all, Jason can’t solve all her problems or fight her demons for her. But he can help her.

[that-blue-vault-dweller]

TW Companions react to sole getting raped? Also like the new PFP 😫? 💜❤

I absolutely love your new profile pic!!! It's gorgeous!!! 😍😍😍

Thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy 💙💛

Cait - Is going to kill the person that did this. She demands to know what he looked like and where F!Sole last saw him. If she is too upset to tell her, Cait just carefully holds her for a while until she has calmed down enough to talk to her about it. When she gets a description, Cait heads out, her specially modified baseball bat wrapped in razor wire in her hands, and when she finds the person that did it, she makes them confess before beating them to a pulp until they're a nasty mess of gore.

Piper - Is some really crazy combo of sick to her stomach and angry as can be. However, she is ultimately just shocked and feeling terrible for her best friend. Piper just opens her arms and hugs her Blue tightly, not knowing what to do, but offering a shoulder to cry on and a safe place for F!Sole to talk about it or not. After a while of this, they finally settle down to talk about how to keep this from happening next time. Like maybe certain safety strategies to take and whatnot. Plus, Piper mentally resolves to just follow her Blue around way more often and keep a closer eye on her best friend.

Curie - Is horribly stricken, and she honestly feels like crying about it. She shakily offers F!Sole a checkup whenever she is ready, feeling that it is honestly best that she try to treat any physical wounds that could have occurred. When F!Sole agrees to it much too quickly, Curie hesitantly starts her examination. However, when she asks her to remove her shirt so she can examine for any injuries that could have been caused, Curie is horrified by the ugly bruises she sees, and she just hugs F!Sole gently for a long time, deciding that they're going to have to take this checkup thing slowly.

MacCready - Cannot believe what he is hearing, and he is just totally horrified. He offers her his hand and a hug if she needs it, and he just reels in the wake of the information. He is tempted to ask her about the man so he can go and take care of him properly, but he does not want to reawaken any flashbacks or anything of the traumatic experience. He honestly just feels awful for her, and he tries to give her any comfort she might want, even if he does not feel that he is exactly qualified to do so.

Deacon - Is honestly terribly shocked. He is for once completely at a loss as to what to say, and he just sort of swallows hard and sits down next to her. Finally, despite his own lack of comfort with physical contact, he offers her a hug, and she embraces him tightly. However, when she starts crying, he has no idea what to do with her. When he finally gets a chance to leave and when he gets a description of the man from F!Sole, he tells Glory that she needs to take care of a problem. He does not give her details on what happened, but he tells her that someone did something bad to F!Sole and she needs to dispose of that someone. Of course, she does it without question.

Codsworth - Feels absolutely terrible for his mistress, and he offers her any comfort he can. He is at her beck and call and swiftly heads out to retrieve anything that she could possibly want. He is also there to listen, and he offers a sympathetic ear as he expresses how sorry he is that the entire thing happened. He tries to offer physical reassurance as well as he raises his pincer and gently places it upon her shoulder.

Hancock - Just immediately hugs her tightly to his chest, stroking her head and letting her cry on him as much as she needs. However, as soon as he helps her to feel better, he gently asks her what the person looked like that did this to her. He also asks her where it happened. When he gets those answers, he tells her to try to get some sleep and that he'll be right there with her the whole time. When he is sure that she is asleep, he quietly slips away to tell Fahrenheit about the person and he asks her to bring him to Goodneighbor alive. Soon enough, she finds him, and she drags him to the lower parts of the Old State House and lets Hancock know he's there. Hancock then takes pleasure in stabbing the man to death.

Danse - Feels himself overcome with guilt and rage all at the same time. He feels like this is his fault and that if he would have been keeping a better eye on her, then he might could have protected her from this. He just tentatively offers her a hug, and he engulfs her entirely in his arms, trying to give her some sense of security in the middle of this vulnerable time. When he makes her feel at least a little better, he asks about the person, where it happened, and all of those things. When he receives answers, he dons his power armor and heads out to find the person. When he finds him, he makes sure to leave multiple sizable holes in his head, and Danse leaves him where he lies.

Preston - Is a little angry, but mostly disgusted and deeply saddened that this happened. He cannot believe someone would have the audacity to do this to the General of the Minutemen. He almost feels like puking, but he just pushes it all aside to offer his truest friend all the comfort that he can give her. He hugs her warmly, just rocking her back and forth lightly as he tries to make her feel better. He does not ask about the person, and resolves to instead question her later about him so that she can have time to heal a little from the horrible occurrence.

Valentine - Feels an intense disgust for the person that did it, and feels deep, deep pain for F!Sole. He hugs her gently, rubbing her back, and mumbling soft reassurances to her as he tries to reassure her in any way that he can. After she is calmer, he heads out and asks around, trying to pinpoint the culprit on his own without having to remind her of the experience. He then finds the man and forcibly drags him to Diamond City lockup for holding until they can give a trial.

X6-88 - Feels himself on the verge of shaking from the boiling anger running through him. However, he just barely manages to hold it together long enough to offer her his deepest condolences before heading off to ask questions and find this person. After some time of searching and making inquiries, he finally finds the person and lets loose on them, blasting them full of laser holes and finally, after a long moment of debating upon it, he spits upon their fallen body, offering them as much disgust as they deserve for such a horrid, inexcusable act.

Dogmeat - Can smell the pain and the blood and the fear on her, and he is immediately worried. He whimpers quite a bit, and when she finally just hugs him for a really long time, he lets her squeeze however much she wants. He licks her face and whatever part of her that he can reach from his place against her, and he wishes that she was not hurting. He would do anything to take away the pain and make things better for her.

Strong - When he finds out that someone hurt tiny human, he is ready to go on a rampage. She has to beg him to stop to make sure that he does not injure any innocents in the nearby area. He hesitantly quits, but not before he has smashed a nearby object. He finds a piece of raw meat finally and offers it to her, hoping that eating will heal her somehow, but he does not understand that most of the damage is of an emotional nature.

Maxson - Receives her with open arms, unsure of how to handle this horrid news, but deciding that he will try to be there for her. He makes sure that they are away in his quarters before he does anything such as this, but he comforts her as much as he can when they are out of the sight of prying eyes. He then carefully asks her about the person that did it as soon as she has calmed down some. The moment he figures out about it, he heads out to take care of them, pulling together a group of soldiers to search the Commonwealth for the person. When they eventually find him, Maxson has them bring the person to him. He then makes sure to take care of the person himself. No one knows what happened when he took the person in the lower parts of the Boston airport, but when Maxson comes out, he mysteriously looks just as put together as he was when he went in. He just does not have the person with him. However, the blood on his boots is pretty telling that the person met no good end.

[may-fanfic]

In A Minute 

summary: natasha wasn’t the same since the blip and after 5 years, she finally found a sense of hope, only for it all to come crashing down for you when Natasha doesn’t return like she’s supposed to 

warnings: death, angst 

rating: 18+

word count : 2,473

a/n: just watched endgame again and im grieving so i wrote this enjoy the angst 

masterlist 

((feel free to send in any request you may have))

--------

Natasha watched closely as you moved things around her office, throwing away things that you deemed useless which was nearly everything in the messy office. she had been in such a rut and you knew it couldn’t be good. you knew Natasha had been close to everyone on that team and she had felt like pieces of her went missing.

“you don’t have to do that,” she stated from her seat, her eyes growing watery. it has been nearly five years since the blip and you knew if Natasha kept up this way, she wouldn’t be useful, like thor and you couldn’t lose nat too.

you dropped the mess of papers in the bin before making your way over to the girl who stared hopelessly at you. you noticed the bags under her eyes and her chapped lips. she was wearing the same sweats from the last time you saw her.

“natty, I need you to be at your best.” Natasha looked like she lost some weight and you wondered when she had her last meal. she shrugged lightly, her lips quivering as she did so. you moved to kneel in front of the avenger placing your hands on her thighs, resting your chin against her knee.

“I miss you nat.” you knew that you saw her nearly every day but you missed the person she used to be, before Thanos and everything. she was always so carefree and happy and now it seemed that the smallest thing could tick her off. your comment made her eyes flow freely as her shaky hands came to rest softly against your cheeks.

you leaned against her warm hands causing her thumbs to brush against your cheekbones. “Just please take a break for me, baby,” you begged her, your own eyes turning watery and when she nodded, you leaned up catching her lips in a soft kiss.

it had been a while and Natasha forgot how much she missed it. you pulled away too fast for her liking but she figured she’d save the kissing for later. you had continuously promised her that you and her would figure it out, in due time and maybe you had been right to tell her to worry less.

------

Natasha had moved through the compound, drying her damp hair with a small towel before she stopped at the kitchen, watching quietly as you moved through the area, setting the plated food on the table and it dawned on her all at once that, yeah, she lost a lot of her loved ones but you were still here and she hadn’t been appreciating that enough. she knew she’d completely lose it without you. you turned to catch her warm gaze and the tiny smile that had formed on her lips.

"come here,” she muttered setting down her towel and opening up her arms. you were quick to move into her embrace, resting your face in the crook of her neck as her arms found your waist, reeling you impossibly closer as you hook your arms around her shoulders, letting a soft breath go when her arms tightened around your waist.

"I miss this." she purred out, her hands rubbing up and down your spine with ease. as much as she didn't want to think about everything going on, she couldn't help it. she nuzzled her face into the nape of your neck, breathing in your sweet scent. it made her feel safe, feeling you so near made her feel whole and all she wanted was to soak up this moment as much as she could because it was perfect. everything about you was perfect.

"me too." you breathed out, your eyes falling closed, taking in the feeling of her hands over your back. this was the Natasha you missed, the one who was always so careful and affectionate with you.

------

when ant-man came along, rumbling about time travel, it gave Natasha a sense of hope. finally, for the first time in five years, she felt like they had a chance to turn all this around and you wanted to believe it for her sake because she seemed so happy, so you went along with the man's theory. you knew Natasha just liked to feel useless, she hated just sitting around and waiting for something to happen.

the night before the mission, Natasha could hardly sleep as she gazed over your soft expressions. she knew that there was always a risk when it came to the things they did but she hoped everything worked out perfectly. she just wanted everything back to normal.

she reached her hand over to gently caress your cheek. your eyebrows knitted together, letting out a soft sigh in your sleep and she couldn't help but grin at you. she thought about the chance that something would happen to you throughout all this, she knew she wouldn't be with you and the fact that she wouldn't be able to protect made her feel uneasy.

she couldn't lie and say she had no fears when it came to what was to come but she knew it would work out exactly how it was meant to and with that sobering thought, she drifted off to sleep.

-----

your hand was tighten entangled with hers after you both had been suited up, you had a moment with just each other. Natasha liked the comfortable silence but she also had so much to say to you, she just didn't know how to say it so she was glad when you spoke up first. "I love you," you whispered out, turning your attention over to the girl who looked down at you with a gentle smile. "I just wanted to say that in case-"

"I love you too," she uttered out quickly, her smile growing when she noticed the way your cheeks burned a bright pink. "everything's gonna be okay, love." she reassured, her fingers caressing gently at your knuckles. "it's only gonna be a minute." she reminded you with a smile and for a second you felt at ease, simply looking up at the woman whom you loved dearly.

"longest minute ever," you whispered gaining a soft laugh from her as she turned her body to embrace you completely. you rested your head against her chest when she pulled you into her. her hand came up to hold your head in place while the other wrapped securely around your waist. she brushed a soft kiss to your hairline, holding you as close as possible.

"Alright girls, let's go."  clint tapped on Natasha's shoulder and she reluctantly let you go, offering you a sweet smile as she took your hand and walked you up the platform. you couldn't hear steve's speech over the sound of your heartbeat, it was louder than ever. you knew he was finished when Natasha squeezed your hand softly to get your attention.  her smile was wide, she seemed so excited and ready to take on whatever would come in her way. "see you in a minute, baby." you smiled back at her when she brought your knuckles up to her lips to press a soft kiss against them. just a minute, you reminded yourself when she let your hand go.

you wish you knew before that would be the last time you'd see Natasha because then you could tell yourself to not let her go, you'd go back in time to kill ant-man before he could even give them the idea but that wasn't the case and you had to live with the repercussions of it all.

-----

your mission with thor and rocket went pretty smoothly, for the most part, you let rocket take the lead and when thor was under control, it worked out perfect. you got the stone and headed back in no time and you were happy for thor who got the closure he needed. he seemed unstoppable at that moment.

Natasha's mission was mind-boggling, she and clint sat around for moments, trying to figure out a way for the both of them to come out of this alive but there wasn't any way around this, Natasha knew what she had to do. her mind was made up as she thought of you, your smile, your voice, everything.

she knew clint had a family and there was no way she'd leave them without their dad but the thought of leaving you pained her. she knew how broken up you'd be because she promised she'd come back for you and now she wouldn't be. she hoped you could understand it one day. with shaky hands, Natasha pulled out a necklace that she swore around her neck, smiling down at the ring that she was determined to give to you one day. you'd always asked her about the random ring that hung from her neck and she'd always tell you that she just found it one day. she didn't want to tell you that it was for you, it'd ruin the surprise.

she always saw herself growing old with you and now that didn't seem possible. she wrapped her hand around the ring completely bringing it up to her lips to press a gentle kiss to it as if it was you at that moment, she wished it was. "whatever it takes." she spoke softly as she shot up from the rock she sat on. clint turned to her with tearful eyes whispering something, she couldn't listen to him right now.

"listen, clint-" she cut him off, reaching for his hand and dropping the necklace into his hand before balling it up for him. "tell her I love her okay?" tears fell past her eyes but the wind was knocked out of her when clint flipped her on her back, they fought for a moment but ultimately, she won as she dove off the cliff, stopping Clint from his demise.

there was a second of regret when clint cried out for her to hold on but then she imagined all the stress she felt for the past 5 years and she knew if she hadn't done this, her life would be full of regret. "it's okay." she smiled up at the man, tears in her own eyes. "it'll be okay." he cried even harder but before she could regret it more, she kicked herself off using the cliff and fell.

when clint opened his eyes again, he was surrounded by water, his tears clouded his vision as he opened his hand along with the soul stone,  was the necklace. he wasn't thrilled about having to see you.

----- everyone cheered when they were returned to the platform, the smiles on their lips had you grinning before your eyes locked with clint's tired, tearful ones and then you noticed the empty space beside him.

"Clint." you tried but your voice shook so much when he met your eyes. "where's natty?" he didn't have to say anything for you to know that she wouldn't be coming back. your eyes filled with tears as he began apologizing to you. everyone else was too quiet and it made your cries echoed in the room.

"no... no... she was supposed to come back! where is she, clint? what did you do?" you slammed your hands against his chest when he made his way over to you. you hated him so much right now. deep down, you knew it wasn't his fault but you'd blame just about anyone right now.

"where is she?" you cried harder when he forced you into a hug, trying your hardest to break free of his hold but he was strong and after a moment, you stopped fighting.  you couldn't stop your cries as the thought of never seeing the love of your life again replayed in your head. none of this made any sense, she was just here and now she was gone forever. "I'm so sorry." he cried out with you, rubbing softly at your back. when you weren’t strong enough to stand anymore, clint tugged you down on the floor with him, hugging you tightly into his embrace but nothing could ever be better than Natasha's.

she was the only one you wanted to see when you came back, she was the only one that didn't come back.  your cries shook you as you tried to rack your head around it all. why couldn't she just come back? there wasn’t anything anyone could say to ever make you feel better. you just wanted to see her again and if you couldn't get that, you'd never be happy. everything was suddenly ripped away from you, you needed her.

------

you felt solemn as you sat in the church, your eyes drifted over to the empty coffin then it was the big picture that was placed beside it. there she was in all her glory, you'd do anything to have her back. tears flowed freely from your eyes as you snapped your gaze back to your hands. the funeral ended an hour ago but you didn't have the energy to move.

you couldn't do anything, what was life without Natasha? you were so wrapped up in your thought that you hardly noticed the body that sat beside you until his hand hovered over yours for a moment. "she wanted me to give you this." he spoke softly and when his hand left, the necklace laid in your hands. you stared blankly down at the familiar ring that hung from it, feeling the fresh tears stream from your eyes. "you know, she loved you." he whispered, his lips quivering as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

"I'd never seen her so in love before you, she was crazy about you." you let out a small laugh through your cries as you glanced up from the ring over to clint. he offered a sad smile, his free hand coming up to brush away your tears. "she'd always talk about marrying you." he whispered, nudging his head in the direction of your hands almost to explain the gift he handed you.

"I wish she was here to tell me that," you whispered, letting your head fall against his shoulder. you would've married Natasha in a heartbeat had you gotten the chance. "I know..." he spoke softly, his eyes trained on the picture of her in the front of the church. "she's a hero," he uttered, trying his best to comfort you.  "she brought my family back... I just wish there was something I could do to repay her." you nodded, your eyes moving back to the perfect diamond ring, you could almost feel her on it.

you knew Natasha died a hero, she died doing what she was meant to do. it was hard to imagine your life without her but you knew in some way, she'd always be here.

[kim-ruzek]

I don’t want to be a downer, but on the Burzek front, the premiere was a disappointment, imho. I loved all of Adam’s scenes and his interaction with Mak and Trudy was phenomenal, but the writing for Kim and Kim/Adam was uneven. She was almost dead and going on life support and then awake. I love that Kim is strong, but I sort of dread her plowing through it alone like after she miscarried and then thanking Adam for stepping in as Mak’s dad with hockey tickets. #frustratedwhump

You're absolutely not being a downer, the premiere was a disappointment. As a whole, I'm pretty happy with it, with how burzek were, but it is also very frustrating. Like on the romance front, I'll get to in a minute because there's only one thing I wish they'd do. But the whump part... Yeah, that's disappointing.

Obviously I knew it would be. Chicago pd is NOT good with dealing with injuries-- or rather the aftermath and recovery. The initial medical stuff-- so in this episode her being on the ventilator, it not looking good (in other episodes: Kim having compartment syndrome, Jay taking a while to wake up)-- they do well. But the problem is they need their characters in ship shape condition, especially with the unit so small (for example, with fire, they can afford to have one member on medical leave bc one) they can still hang around at the firehouse and two) it's a big cast) so the aftermath... It's disappointing. And even knowing this, it still makes it disappointing. Which is why I really want them to do the PTSD storyline well

Talking about which, I was about to make a post about this RIGHT as you sent this ask so great timing, whumpy!!!!

I have little faith in the writers when it comes to burzek. They just don't appreciate them or get them, and it's really frustrating, especially when they get so little screen time and when they do it's just crumbs and unspoken developments. Which is why, although I was talking about my optimistic predictions, everything that happened is what I thought it would.

The content we got though, although I'd have preferred more, was perfectly them. Like that wink? How he was with Mack? The ONLY reason I'm frustrated with what we got in this episode is because I have absolutely no faith in the writers. To me, this sets up them perfectly, that it's the perfect reunion.

Except. Then I remember the writers don't get them, and that's when I get frustrated. Because this isn't a whole jump ahead further into them, they're still only going to make it a tiny step. And that's what's frustrating, everything that happens, that should take them further only gets them a tiny bit ahead.

I was quite vocal that I wanted them back together within the first three episodes, just that agreement that they're together even though it's slow and they're working out the paces. But I was also vocal that I'd be fine if they didn't actually get back together-- just as they talk about wanting to/wanting to get to that stage. And that's the only thing I super wish they'd do right now.

How I read these scenes and how it'll set them up for the next season is: so that wink, all that,,, it just. It says, I'm here. I love you. We're in this together. The next episode will have a bit of conflict because Kim is struggling and Adam is trying to help. I'd *hope* that we'd get a hug at the end. Then this all builds into mid-season to them getting back together.

I WANT to believe the writers will be getting them together by mid season but yeah, no faith. Because how I see Burzek is, after Kim gets her PTSD diagnosis, Adam tells her he's here, and they have a discussion about how worried he was for her (maybe a line about him protecting her?) And that's when they have the discussion that they're not ready for it now, but they want to be kinda "exclusively single" and work towards getting back together.

Them just agreeing that they want no other person. Them agreeing that what's important right now is working on their own trauma and finding their groove with Makayla-- seeing first if they can co parent and be a family unit. I want this because what this show doesn't seem to get is you can have adult conversations. You can acknowledge this even if you're not together. That this is what can happen in real life, that you need to be a unit without actually being a couple in order to be the couple-- BUT that you need to vocalise this, get on the same page when it comes to the end goal. If the writers did this (and THEN got them together, if they have them have an adult conversation in 2-3 I'd even be fine with having to wait until the finale although I wouldn't want to) I'd be happy.

But they won't. They'll just continue to not express this which is what ultimately frustrates me.

And ugh, my thoughts are that if they DO have them have this conversation we'll have to wait mid season which is like.... Ugh, frustrating.

Optimistically I don't think they're gonna have Kim struggle alone but ugh. Even if they don't have a conversation I WANT Kim to seek him out, I WANT her to ask for his support and comfort, to know he is there when she needs him. Like especially with PTSD, you need that rock, that safe zone. And especially with Kim's PTSD being because she thinks Roy is out there, her safe zone can only be Adam. And I WANT the writers to do this, even if they keep them undefined.

Like I don't want her to struggle half a season alone internalising a lot and not having that lean on Adam. That's been done already and it's boring and unrealistic at this point. Like even if most of the comfort is just a tradition that at the end of each day, she seeks a hug from Adam. But I want her to have those moments at work where her PTSD creeps up and she just reaches for Adam's hand just for a squeeze, or steps closer to him. Just that kind of,,, he's her anchor. And I want her to appreciate him, to verbally express that.

Especially if she's getting therapy for her PTSD. Her therapist WOULD talk her through this.

And I really want Adam to be basically living with Kim. Especially with him being her anchor. That she can focus on being a mom because Adam is there to catch her when she falls, and is there to make Makayla feels safe and secure too.

AND he needs to be there for another reason: kids especially ones who's been through Trauma... Kim is Makayla's own anchor. And if it's just those two, she will pick up on the days Kim is more subdued and then she'll try and overcompensate to be Kim's support and that's not what a six year should feel like she should do. But with Adam there it'll shield her and also make her secure in knowing Kim-- the most important person in her life-- is looked after.

And to end this-- the one thing I think the premiere could've had was a hand squeeze from Kim. Like just a simple gesture of her just... Touching him. Obviously he was too far away from her for her to do that, but that's how it could've been better. Just to have that physical sign of Kim saying I'm here, I see you, thank you to him as well.

[parkersbliss]

Chaos On Set | T. Holland

Pairing: Tom Holland X Female, Chaos Walking screen writer, reader

Warnings: no-no words, Tom being a bit of a pervert, but in a cute way? and fluff so fluffy you might get cavities.

wc; 2.5K

Synopsis: Tom really really likes you, but he doesn’t know if you feel the same. Especially when you can never get a moment together.

Request: Heeeeeey soo I don’t know if you take requests, but your writing is AMAZING and I was wondering if you could do a Tom Holland x reader where she wrote the screenplay for the movie he’s in (maybe Chaos Walking, if you know what that is, if you don’t, no sweat!😁😁) and he really likes her, and just make it fluffy and stuff? Idk, but thank you!!! Your writing is amazing, keep it up!! 😁👌🏽❤️

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List 

—

Tom was smitten for you. It was quite obvious to everyone on set, except, well, you. It wasn't that you didn't like him (you did) it was just that being a screenplay writer has you pulled to every part of the set. It was hard to even get one moment alone with Tom. You enjoyed working with him, he was a phenomenal actor and took your advice seriously, but when you're the screenplay writer of Chaos Walking it was like the whole world wanted a piece of you. Any time spent with Tom was either watching him on set or revisiting his lines. There was never a moment for you to catch your breath, not even in the morning. It was always get up and go. This morning had been particularly rushed as you spent the night tweaking a few scenes on set. The best part of being the screenplay writer was not having to dress all fancy. Although, you did just in case you saw Tom. This morning, you didn't care all that much. Instead, you slipped on a pair of lounge shorts and a hoodie, throwing your hair up and popping on some sunglasses to conceal any signs of lack of sleep. Yawning, you grabbed your script full of notes and walked onto the set. You immersed yourself in the script, going over the scenes for today and reshoots that were taking place.

"You look comfortably," Tom greeted. He was already ready for the day, clad in a dirt-covered gray (it might've been white, who knows) tank top that did nothing to hide his toned arms. His hair was still short from shooting Cherry a couple of months prior, but he pulled it off.

"Uh, yeah, late-night," You mumble, trying to straighten your wrinkled hoodie. Tom finds it adorable as you try to look a bit more presentable to him. He watches as you pull at the frayed edges of your clothing, small pout as it refuses to straighten up. You tug at it a few more times before huffing and giving up.

"So," He starts, rocking back and forth on his heels, his cheeks flushed. "What do you think of the movie so far?"

"Are you kidding me? It's amazing! You're a great Todd. It's like every girl's dream to watch book characters be brought to life."

He laughs, eye crinkled slightly, "I thought every girl's dream was an all you can buffet."

You tap your chin, pretending to think about it, "yeah that too."

Tom smiles, fiddling nervously with his fingers, trying to think of what to say next. He's not sure if you've ever had a conversation this long before.

"I really hope we can become friends," You blurt out, instantly regretting it. Tom's taken back, eyes wide as he tries to think of some type of witty reply. What if he wants to be more than friends? Scratch that, he does. But he knows that you've only known each other for two weeks and this is the longest conversation you've had.

"No," He said, watching as your face fell. "I mean, uh, shit, best friends?"

You give him an awkward smile, a little shocked at his first reaction. "Okay."

"Okay," He repeats, nodding his head slightly. "Yeah, okay. I should go. Not that I want to, but they need back on set. I mean, I think they do. They probably do," He rambles on. You giggle slightly as he continues spitting nonsense. You place a hand on his exposed bicep, "I get it, Tom. You can go, I have to be on stage three anyway."

Tom's staring at your hand on his arm, he's internally panicking but you don't know that. At least he doesn't think you do. He's probably sweating ten times more now. "Right, yeah, I'm sorry for keeping you. I should really pay more attention to that. I, uh, I'll see you around?"

You smile softly at him, a slight pink tint to your cheeks, "Yeah, I'll see you around." You pull your hand away from him and give him one last smile before jogging to the other stage.

"You couldn't be more obvious," Daisy jokes.

Tom sighs, dragging his hands down his face, "Do you think she knows?"

"Honestly, no. Shocker really."

Tom rolls his eyes, bumping his shoulder with hers playfully. "Whatever."

Daisy wiggles her eyebrows at him, making kissy faces. Tom pushes her away, "Okay, okay, I get it! What crazy thing are we doing today?"

"Into the woods we go!"

"Lovely."

...

"(Y/N)!" Tom calls out as he jogs toward you. He's soaking wet, a navy shirt thrown over his form, slowly staring to dampen. His hair flopping haphazardly around his head. You stand up from your chair, hand outstretched. You were called over to supervise the scene Tom had just finished, which involved a very dirty pond of water. It had been three weeks since you first decided to become friends and it was safe to say, it had worked out. You spent a lot more time around each other, becoming much more comfortable and holding conversations longer than five minutes.

"Nuh-uh mister. I don't want your dirt, water, sweat mix over my nice shirt."

He pouts, arms falling to his sides, "You care more about a shirt than me?"

"Yes," You deadpan. Tom rolls his eyes, taking a few steps closer to you, while you take a few steps back.

"Tom," You warn as you back up against your chair. He grins at you and wraps you in his arms as you squeal.

"You're cold!"

Tom laughs into your neck, his wet hair tickling your chin and you try to push him off you, but he's much stronger and clings to you like a koala, his arms secure around your waist. Ultimately, you stop trying to pry him off accepting the fact you're soaked and he wasn't moving anytime soon.

"You're warm," He murmurs.

You roll your eyes, "Are you going to continue to hug me or let me change out of my now soaked clothes?"

Tom raises his head from the crook of your neck, giving you a loopy smile. "What's the rush? We're done shooting for the day."

You sigh out of relief, "that's great, but you're still cold."

He groans and finally pulls himself off of you. Your clothes are now soaked and sticking to your shivering body. Tom's eyes widen when he notices your bra peaking through your see-through shirt.

"What?" You ask, quirking an eyebrow at Tom's blushing face.

He clears his throat, still staring, "Your uh, your bra," He mumbles. You barely make out what he says, but follow his gaze to your now see-through shirt.

"Oh my god," You gape, then add, "Stop looking, Tom!"

He turns around immediately, "sorry!"

"Give me your shirt," You said.

"What?"

"I can't walk around set like this!"

"I can't walk around shirtless!"

"Have you seen yourself, Tom? Yeah, you can. No one's going to complain. Just give me the shirt, please."

Tom blinks in surprise at your comment, he stumbles over his next few words, "I -- uh, um, okay."

He strips his shirt off, struggling a bit as the fabric clings to his skin, now a bit soaked through. When he eventually gets if off he hands it to you and you do the same, balling your old shirt in your hand. You take a few moments to admire Tom's back muscles, before coughing. He turns around and you grow hot as you eye his toned figure. My god, he was built like a god. Is this even legal? You wonder, still staring at his abs.

Tom laughs, "so I can't stare at you in your bra but you can stare at me topless?"

You shake your head, tearing your gaze away from his perfect form. "yes indeed, now I'm going back to my trailer to change into something not soaking wet."

Tom nods his head, pushing back some of his wet curls, "Okay." He almost mentions you giving his shirt back, but he decides you look much better in it anyway.

"Uh, one thing," He said, causing you to turn around. "Do you, maybe, want to watch a movie later?"

You grin at him, "I'd love too, but only if there's food involved."

"Deal."

...

This wasn't a date, right? No, it wasn't. Tom never said it was, but he wanted it to be. He sits nervously on the sofa, knees bouncing in anticipation of your arrival. It wasn't a date, but it was still the girl he really likes watching a movie with just him and only him. Tom's hair was still slightly damp, although now he wasn't shirtless and instead slipped on his classic midtown hoodie from Spider-Man and a pair of sweatpants. There's a knock at his door and he almost falls off the couch. Tom clambers to the door, swinging it open and leaning against the doorframe pretending he didn't just trip on his way here.

"Hey," You said smiling. You reflected Tom's choice of clothing in only a pair of sweatpants and wrinkled tee, but by god did you pull it off. Tom blinks, tearing his gaze from you. "hi."

"Are you going to invite me in or...?"

"Right! Yeah, of course. Come in." Tom steps aside, holding the door open for you and letting it shut softly. You toss him a lopsided grin over your shoulder.

"So, what are we watching?" You ask, flopping down on the couch, instantly wrapping yourself in the blanket Tom had left out.

"Oh... uh, do you wanna watch Spider-Man?" He scratches the back of his head, cheeks tinted pink.

You wiggle your eyebrows at him, "Are you trying to impress me with your acting skills?"

Tom scoffs, grabbing a pillow from the couch and hurling it at you. "No, I'm obviously showing off Robert's skills."

You playfully roll your eyes, flinging the pillow back at him. He catches it with ease. "Whatever, I haven't seen it anyway."

Tom gasps, "What?"

You throw your head with back with laughter at the expression on his face. He's jaw is hanging wide open, eyebrows knitted together in shock.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I just bruise your ego?"

Tom clicks his tongue, throwing the pillow back at you, hitting you square in the face. "no, but I think I just bruised your face."

"Very funny."

"I get it from my dad."

You purse your lips together, thinking of some type of witty comeback. "yeah, well you didn't get his height."

Tom places a hand on his heart, faking hurt. "Alright, well--"

You cut him off with a pillow to the stomach as he doubles over with an oomph. You howl with laughter as he glares at you.

"Oh love, you don't know what you're in for," He smirks.

"Wait, Tom--" You don't finish your sentence as Tom flops onto you, pillow separating your bodies and you squeal. Tom lays on top of you, pillow resting on your stomach as he grins at you.

"Tommmm," You whine, trying to push him off. He doesn't budge and you pout, resting your arms at your side as his lay by your head.

"Sorry, love, you started it."

"What about the movie?"

"Honestly you're getting an even better view of me like this."

"I only want to watch it because of Zendaya."

"Fuck you."

"You wish."

There's a heavy silence as you take in Tom's comment and the irony of your position. Tom wiggled his eyebrows seductively, smirking.

"Get off me, you weirdo!" You said, finally pushing off of you. He lands on the floor with a satisfying thud and you peek your head over the sofa to check on him. A hand shoots up to grab you and pulls you down on top of him. Tom groans as your body weight land on him, now realizing what a stupid move he had made. Your heads smack together and you wince in pain.

"Shit, sorry love," Tom apologizes, reaching up to hold your head in his hands. He hesitantly places a soft kiss on your temple and you instantly melt in his touch. His hands slowly travel away from your head to wrap around your waist and hold you captive.

"Tom?" You question, arms resting on his shoulder, simultaneously playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

He hums, "Yes?"

"Can we watch the movie now?"

He laughs, the vibrations rumbling in his chest, and instinctively you snuggle closer to him and his warmth. He sits up, almost knocking you off, but his arms keep you secure in his lap.

"Yes, we can, but you have to get off me."

Your ankles cross over his waist, "No, I don't wanna. You're warm." You said, face buried in his neck. Tom's happy you can't see the blush on his face as he stares at the girl in his lap. He slowly stands up, one arm still holding you close to him as the other picks up the remote. He turns the movie on, sitting down on the couch. You pick your head up from his neck, glancing at him only to find him already looking down at you. Tom pushes back a few stray pieces of hair from your face and your eyes flicker to his lips for a split second.

"Can I- Can I kiss you?" He asks, breath tickling your face.

"Please," You whisper. His free hand cups your cheek, thumb rubbing over your cheekbones before he dives in and seals your lips with his.

...

"Baby!" Tom exclaims, jogging toward you and picking you up in a bone-crushing hug.

"Bubs, I was only gone for an hour," You laugh, combing your hand through his curls.

"Still too long," He murmurs, kissing your lips.

"Tom!" Daisy calls out, walking toward him. "We need you back on set. You know, if you can detach yourself from (Y/N) for five seconds."

"She's right, bubs," You said, prying him off you.

He whines, "But babyyy."

"No buts, Mister. You have a job to do and so do I."

"Yes, your job is to give me your undying love."

You give Daisy an apologetic smile as she fake gags from behind Tom.

"No, that's my job later. Right now I'm the screenplay writer who's telling you-- the actor -- to get your ass back on set before they fire both of us."

Tom groans, knowing you're right, "wait, you're not coming with me?"

"No, bubs, I have to be on stage five."

"I'm starting to think they're keeping you from me on purpose."

"I can see why."

"Hey!"

You cup Tom's cheeks, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. "Kidding, now go fulfill my dreams."

"I think you should fulfill mine."

"Tom," You warn.

He laughs, grabbing your hand and squeezing it lightly before pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "'m joking."

You give him a pointed stare, "partially," he adds.

"I'll see you later."

"You and that ass most definitely will," He winks.

"don't make me write Todd a death scene."

"Joking! Again. I love you!"

"Uh-huh, you just love this ass."

"Well-"

"don't, I'm leaving now," You said, tugging your hand of out his grip and walking away.

"Sorry baby! Love you!" He calls out.

"Yeah, yeah I love you too. Now seriously, get back on set before they fire us."

—

🏷 Taglist: @harrymysunflower @peterspideyy @cams-lynn @runway-to-my-aid @yoinkyourheart @keenmarvellover

strike through- tumblr won’t let me tag you

[vinylhazza]

grayson and a petite girl having sex? 🥺

i feel deep down in my soul that grayson has a size kink.

he’s just so massive and i think he would get really worked up towering over the girl he’s been seeing.

makes him feel the ultimate dominance.

mostly likes when he’s fucking her in the air - arms wrapped around her thighs and her head tucked into his neck, screaming profanities and cursing the savor above while he ruins her. he likes to look down and see himself disappearing again and again with her tiny arms wrapped about him securely.

if he get’s too tired he’d be a big fan of setting her down on the counter in the kitchen, bathroom, etc. to be at the same height still and keep his momentum going, never stopping.

sometimes he likes to lay her down on the couch or the bed and hold her lower section in the air, one leg up for leverage, and sinks in deeper than ever. that’s really got her screaming then.

small and dainty little thing she would be against his rock solid body carved perfectly with muscle. i feel like she would love that just as much. he makes her feel safe in any other setting, but in the bedroom she feels like the most breakable thing in the room.

likes to have her on top because she can move however she pleases, control how dee he does, and it’s more comfortable than doggy style. her back tends to hurt from the weight of his hands keeping her in place.

bondage? sure! but we all know being short doesn’t just mean your legs and torso but your arms as well and mr. handyman grayson build in little hideaway loopholes on his headboard so he could really give her the full experience just like she wants.

[vdragon-creations]

More Danganronpa Headcanons!

Why? Because I can! And I have to wait for a Commissioner to get back to me about a WIP I just sent!

I Think I’m gunna try my hands at making some Headcanons for Mondo, Ishimaru, Leon, Kazuichi, and Kiibo this time a round! Just cause I wanna try and explore new characters. (And totally not because I fell hard for a certain Robo Boi! WHAAAAAAAT! YOU CRAZY GURL!) I’m still loyal to my man Yasuhiro! But I gotta spred the love! Cause these boi’s need it! Also, wanna mention that these are more like...Non-Killing Game AU Headcanaons. So yeah! ^^ 

Let’s do this!

Mondo:

Is a Semi decent carpenter, but there was that one time he fucked up the legs on a chair, and now one of Asahina’s shorts has a rip in it where there was a stray nail sticking out.

She wont let him live that down. And neither will Sakura.

Get’s pretty embarrassed/pissed off if someone touches his neck! The dude’s jacket practically covers that entire part of his body, so he’s not used to feeling anything touch him there!

He once let out a girlish scream when Leon poked him there once to wake him up during class! The rest of them are surprised Leon wasn’t killed right then and there.

Once he participated in a little competition between the classes to see who was the arm wrestling champ. He got pretty far till he had to go up against Gonta. He lost by a landslide, but he felt better loosing to a dude like him at least. 

Totally escorts any female classmate or student home on his bike if they ask, or he sees some creep hanging around them. 

He does get embarrassed about it though, and ends up yelling at them. This results in one of three things.

The girl runs away!

The girl just politely declines, and walks away kinda creeped out!

Or a mix of all, with the addition of the dude sees this, and get’s spooked himself, and fucks off

Ishimaru:

Has a bit of a panic attack and dies inside if he sees someone leaving the men’s restroom without washing their hands!

Carries scented hand sanitizers with him! At all times! No matter what! And must offer some to every single one of his classmates! 

Once he tripped in the halls while chasing after another rule breaker, and had to be carried to the nurse’s office. Now that alone wouldn’t have been a bad thing, except Sakura was the one who did it, and she carried him bridle style, much to his dismay. 

Mondo and Leon teased him about that one for months.

During Christmas, he’ll start screeching about PDA anytime he sees a Mistletoe, or people under it who are about to kiss! 

But will ultimately be the first one forced to stand underneath it by is classmates.

Stays behind after school hours to either clean, or poke his head into every class room to see if the teachers need help with anything.

He’s totally that guy who during the Gym Class or Sports festival, is bitching about how short the girls shorts are, but not realize he’s staring. There by making HIM the creep! 

Leon of all people was the one to point this out to him, only adding to the shame.

Leon:

It’s not hard for him to start catching feelings for basically any girl meets.

Totally has an Instagram where he posts shirtless pics! He’s pretty popular thanks to that, and his Baseball Skills.

Purposely taught himself English so he could flirt with some of the American and British chicks who visit his profile and leave comments.

He’s pretty used to going from girl to girl, so it’s safe to assume he’s used to getting dunked on by the girls he’s dumped. Getting called a pig, dirty looks, even some of them going so far as to pour their drinks on them at lunch. This he can handle!

Wanted so badly to start a band with Sayaka, Ibuki, Kaede, and Kazuichi! (Probably due to the punk look Soda always puts on!) But he was promptly let down by all of them! Cause Ibuki had her own shit to deal with, Kazuichi because he had no experience with music (at least any good ones, Stay tuned for that! ;3), Sayaka cause she’s already part of a group, and Kaede because punk wasn’t exactly her thing.

But what really stresses him out is when one of his Exes just.....doesn’t really seem to care! It feels so outta place to him, and it actually makes him pretty paranoid. Wondering if their plotting for revenge or some shit! So he’ll spend days after breaking up with a girl like this, just kinda....being a little bitch! XD

Secretly, I’m pretty sure they all turned him down because they thought he was coming on to them to a degree. 

Kazuichi:

Is a lot like Yasuhiro, he doesn’t like birds, but not because he thinks they work for the government. It’s because he doesn’t like most animals, they remind him of Gundham.

Miu makes him HIGHLY uncomfortable! Sure, she’s hot and stuff, but she’s a whole other level of fuckery that he wants no part of! She’s banned from entering his workshop, and so Kiibo is usually the one who comes in to grab something if Miu needs it. He completely get’s Kazuichi feeling put off by Miu.

However, Kazuichi is still pretty insistent on asking Kiibo if he can take him apart every time he comes to get something for Miu. Making the poor robot very uncomfortable!

He’s pretty jealous that Miu get’s to play with the Robot and he doesn’t. Get’s kinda salty about it.

Teruteru once gave him the idea that he should try to serenade Sonia. And so he did! Or at least he tried to. He got over the fence to the girls dorms, ripping his clothes in the prosses. Then when he got to the window (he thought was) of Sonia’s room, he threw a rock that was a bit too big at it, cracking the window and scaring the girl in the room! Waking up the whole dorms and he booked it out of there! 

He attempted this one more time, and was better prepared. But Sonia opened her window to see a Kazuichi dressed in a Ghillie Suit and wearing an army helmet holding a guitar! When he started to sing and play, it was now obvious why Ibuki refuses to let him sing along with any of her music! 

A girl from a neighboring room called the campus security to repot a strange dude outside the Girls dorms, while another one poked her head out of her window and began to throw things at him. 

He left soon after, but was caught by security and reprimanded. Now he refuses to listen to Teruteru has to say about anything.  

Kiibo:

Often get’s bossed around by Mui to get her things. He finds it rather degrading, but when she’s not being bossy, she’s helpful to him. So he puts up with it, as a way of saying thanks. 

One of these tasks he’s asked to do a lot is going over to Kazuichi’s Workshop to barrow tools and such. He hates doing it though, since Kazuichi is always wanting to take him apart. So he does his best to make these visits quick!

Miu gave him the ability to remove some of his heavy armor so he can wear clothing like normal. Surprisingly, This was his idea! He wanted to be able to enjoy the comforts of soft fabrics like most humans. And it would help him blend in a bit better.

Gonta and him get along very well! Mainly due to both of them having a hard time understanding things like sarcasm, harsher jokes, and certain social cues. This usually leads to them both learning at the same time when they hang out!

Miu is his wingman, weather he knows it or not! She’s always wanting to add new functions to him to make him more appealing. One of these is a thin velvet like coating on his armor that’s meant to make his metal less harsh on the skin if you touch him.

Another one of these features is a type of diffuser at the top of his skull under his hair! It releases a pleasant scent into his hair, similar to pheromones. The scent changes based on Kiibo’s emotions. 

Kokichi likes to openly mock Kiibo in front of new people. Like a lot!

Kiibo actually releases steam when he get’s too Angry or Embarrassed, but this is really rare. 

Get’s really curious about Occult, Paranormal, or Religious things. Sure, he finds some of it to be very silly, but he can’t help but wonder why some humans like those things! 

Some holiday traditions he finds weird too, and in some cases, a bit Robophobic. Like giving candy or sweets out on Valentines Day, when....well, he can’t fucking eat it! So he feels excluded in times like that.

He’s really confused about most PDA! Especially kissing! So humans just like...put their mouths together? And that’s like....supposed to mean deep affection? What’s so great about swapping fluids like that? Couldn’t they get sick? QUESTIONS! ANSWERS! HE MUST HAVE THEM!

His Ahoge doesn’t just change shape and move to show emotion, but it also tends to point in the direction that he’s attention is drawn too. Even when he’s trying to pretend he’s not looking at something! His hair is a dead give away!

Has a built in “Cellphone” in his head. Miu added it so it would be easier to contact him if needed. 

Everyone in his class has his number, except Kokichi! And it will stay that way!

.......Until Gonta gave it to him by being tricked into doing it!

And now he has a small panic attack every time his “Cellphone” rings. Praying to all that is good that he doesn’t hear “HEY KIIBOOOOOOOY!~<3″ on the other end!

[aminatamansaray]

introducing....                   

                                     𝗔𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗔 𝗠𝗔𝗡𝗦𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗬

                                                                                                queen of sierra leone

MORE LINKS : wikipedia , pinterest

&&. announcing her majesty, ( aminata kaday mansaray  ), the ( 37 ) year old ( queen ) of ( sierra leone ). she is often confused with ( kylie bunbury ). some say that she is ( imprudent & brazen ), but she is actually ( adaptable & resilient ).  -  penned by FERB . 

BASICS: 

Full Name: aminata kaday mansaray

Nicknames: ami

Title: queen of sierra leone

Age: 37

Date of Birth: 12 january 1987

Zodiac: sagittarius 

Gender: cis female

Pronouns: she/her

Sexuality: bisexual

Languages Spoken: krio, english, bulgarian, russian & swahili

INTRO:  (tw: terrorism, gun mention, death, attack)

aminata was born to crown princess georgietta mansaray of sierra leone and prince simeon krasimirov of bulgaria just three years into their marriage. she was the pride of her country from a very young age, as georgietta always believed in being close with her people - even though her husband didn’t share that enthusiasm for the common people. ami grew up in the public eye and was constantly visible to the public through all of her major milestones. 

that’s where it began - ami constantly wanted to be a little bit more than what she was presented to the world as. she became competitive, when she’d spend vacations with her cousins in sofia. she pushed back against the “perfect princess” image, taking up hobbies that didn’t always make sense for a young crown princess, simply because she didn’t want to be the same as everyone around her.  

rebellion became her entire life, even if it wasn’t wild teenager rebellion in the traditional sense. her father would insist on something, and she would go against it as much as she possibly could without crossing the line. she would do anything just to be different than everyone else, to just be aminata, and not aminata mansaray, crown princess of sierra leone. 

this led to her rejecting oxford, not wanting to be the follower after her cousin headed there to start his college career. the university of st. petersburg was a completely surprise to her family, but aminata had decided it’s what she wanted - so it was what she was going to do. somewhere along the way, she’d grown into a very stubborn young woman. 

at just nineteen years old, aminata would arrive on campus at st. petersburg university without any real friends or connections - but she’d make the most important one within just a few weeks. alexei romanov shared a course with her - and they had something pretty big in common. 

honestly, he was a godsend. for a bit, aminata had considered returning home to freetown to finish school, or even joining andrei at oxford. her own loneliness had almost overpowered the spark inside her. and then she’d made a friend, and she could handle it. 

she would drown herself in her studies, only emerging to attend study groups and occasionally go out on the weekends, when she could manage to tear herself away from her homework. and in just under four years, ami had a degree and had forged her own path - without the influence of her father.. 

she would fall in love and get her heart broken for the first time two summers after her graduation - sangcheol kwon of gyeongsang. they had a whirlwind romance, and ami was over the moon, definitely prepared to settle down. but maksim didn’t want the same things as her - he didn’t want to settle down, and as unfortunate as it was aminata knew there was an expiration date on them. they parted ways, and ami was surprised to hear of maksim’s marriage to areum just a few years later - but the bitterness has since been quelled by her own marriage.

she’d return from an awful summit in the middle of nowhere to find out that her brother had been sent off to a brand new boarding school, after being kicked out of his previous one. more importantly, her father was acting strangely. something had happened, while she was away that weekend - but she couldn't put her finger on what. 

the morning was like any other, and ami went about her normal routine. her father pushed her out of the palace just before lunch, scheduling a meeting between her and one of the parliamentary groups at the last second. ami would attend, smiling for the photos and shaking hands, as she’d been trained to do. she could put on the front of the perfect crown princess for the cameras with a practiced ease. 

she’s in the car to return to the palace when things go south - an explosion rings out ahead of them, and ami’s motorcade is suddenly overcome with an anti-monarchist cell. terrified, her driver floors it, trying to escape the several motorcycles that follow. by some miracle, they manage to shake them - but not for long. in the chaos, she ended up halfway across the city, away from the rest of her security. in a moment of panic at the sound of a motorcycle, her driver crashes the town car, and aminata stumbles out into the alleyway, attempting to find a place to hide, unaware of how hurt she really is.

there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, and as she stumbles down the alley she meets someone who’ll change her life. they drag her into their apartment just moments before the motorcycle turns down the alleyway, and ami is finally safe, hidden in the bedroom of an exchange student’s shitty apartment. 

she spends a full week there, hiding away as the authorities track down each living member of the terrorist cell. in the moments after the sound of motorcycles disappeared, she’d collapsed in shock. she’d be nursed back to health by the exchange student. ami would linger in the doorway, when she was finally well enough to leave and it was safe enough to call someone to come and collect her. she didn’t want to go, the second she walked out of the little apartment she felt so much less safe. but she had to - her country needed a bit of hope.

she’d been assumed dead in the crash for multiple days, and media had gone insane about the fact that no one had identified aminata’s body from the car accident. when she resurfaced, seemingly unscathed, it was hailed as miracle. 

five people died in the heavily coordinated attack. the palace, aminata’s motorcade and the school her younger brother had been expelled from were each hit nearly simultaneously, in the biggest attack against a ruling monarch in sierra leone’s history. 

one of the victims, the now-deceased king consort of sierra leone, would be heavily implicated in the yearlong trial of each of the attackers that were arrested. after months of investigation, the police would find that their king had initially contacted and eventually helped to coordinate the group on how to carry out the attack successfully.

the only motive they could determine was the way their marriage was souring. their marriage was entirely the product of a political arrangement, tying sierra leone and bulgaria together. simeon had gotten the bad news just four days before he contacted the group: queen georgietta had found someone else - someone she actually loved. and that had enraged simeon, who knew he was about to lose all of his power in sierra leone. the letters and communication recovered by authorities painted a picture that devastated the entire family: their father had betrayed them, all out of jealousy and selfishness. 

the queen of sierra leone was heavily injured, and after the attack she ended up confined to a wheelchair, needing several surgeries to repair her injuries. the international presas declared aminata “the luckiest princess alive” when she was discovered - bruised up and exhausted, but alive. (the country had started to panic that her little brother might actually become their king, one day.)

ami was devastated by the trial, and spent several months brooding in the palace, ignoring everything and everyone around her. it would be a rough weekend when she’d ask her driver to take her back to the alleyway where she’d hidden. a knock on the door would find the exchange student packing up - and aminata would beg for them to stay. it was completely irrational, but she still let herself be a little selfish, for once.  

of course the answer was no - they couldn’t stay. but ami could at least call them, after everything they’d been through together. their daily calls began, and the amount of hours wasted on the phone grew quickly, the two finding comfort in each other’s voice and the menial discussion of their daily lives. ami helped her family through their recovery, and cheered her best friend on as they  finished their medical degree. 

they would meet for the again a year later in sofia, and after so much time spent discussing their lives and feelings - something was entirely different between them. they fell in love over a weekend spent there - or maybe they fell in love during the year when they never missed a call. ami wasn’t entirely sure, but she knew she was asking a lot, when she wondered aloud, ‘what are we?’ 

they were married just ten months later, in a small ceremony overlooking a beach in the heart of sierra leone. their marriage would be announced when they returned from their honeymoon: with a spread in the royal times magazine, a surprise to the entire world. 

just a week after her thirty-first birthday, ami would take the throne of sierra leone, and allow her mother to retire. it was a difficult decision, but one ultimately driven by her mother’s declining health - aminata insisted that she could handle the pressure, and felt that her mother deserved to take a break more than anyone else in the world. georgietta would move to their estate in the north, alongside the man she’d fallen in love with. 

her first two years of rule would be quiet, easy. perhaps too easy. she let her guard down sometime along the way - thinking everything would be fine. and things were fine - aminata was even something close to happy, and got back to shirking the things she was “supposed to do” in favor of doing things her own way. she no longer had to be the steadfast rock that her country relied on, instead she was allowed to just be aminata, for the first time in years. . 

she got complacent, excited to finally be able to rule without issue - but a small group of never-located members of the original group would change that. they had a plan, and it wouldn’t be something the royal guards saw coming. 

ami returned to st. petersburg - spending a few days of vacation with their spouse in an old apartment she hadn’t visited in way too long. upon her return, she disembarked her plane and a gunshot rang out. in a stroke of luck, one of her security guards would take the bullet for her. aminata was safe, but her entire sense of security was destroyed.

yet again, the mansaray’s had been publicly attacked. suddenly, even the heavily guarded palace didn’t feel like a place they could stay - until the rest of the cell was hunted down and put into jail. 

the next morning, as news of an earthquake in south america broke, she would commiserate the dangers of the world on the phone with alexei, and decide to follow him and the protection program. arriving that morning in tokyo, she finally felt safe.

WANTED CONNECTIONS: 

THE SPOUSE : aminata has been married for nearly five years to a regular person, who just so happened to be in sierra leone during the terrorist attack on the royal family. they bonded during the two weeks that they hid in their apartment, and eventually fell in love and got married. everything else can be worked out - those are the basics! 

( aminata mansaray ), the ( kylie bunbury ) fc would like a ( consort 30 -40 ) with ( karen gillan, fahriye evcen, daniel kaluuya, riz ahmed, olivia munn, rami malek, any fc that fits the age range ). the mun ( requires ) you to contact them before applying. [ queen consort of sierra leone ]

THE BROTHER : aminata might be a bit of a spitfire, but her brother is even worse. if nothing else, the mansaray children always wanted to be individuals, and that’s exactly what he became. her brother was expelled from leone preparatory, that’s the only point that is non negotiable - everything else can be discussed! 

( aminata mansaray ), the ( kylie bunbury ) fc would like a ( brother 20-25 ) with ( justice smith, any fitting fc! ). the mun ( requires ) you to contact them before applying. [ prince of sierra leone ]

friends, allies, people who like her for some reason??

a few enemies would be nice!!! she’s very much a polarizing figure i think - you either love her or you fucking hate her there’s no in between. 

someone she knew when she went on a little “soul searching” journey in 2014, maybe?

[gustafsnightangel]

Shattered Lives Ch 37 Pt 2

“You’ll get cold.” Gustaf said as he draped her robe over her shoulders as she hauled out the left over Chinese, the nip to her neck causing a shiver to skitter down her spine.

“Any excuse to do that.” She scoffed.

He waited until her hands were empty before he spun her sharply and crushed her against him, devouring that mouth he craved, the small squeak from her making him chuckle wickedly.

“God I love it when you kiss me like that, I can’t think.” She sighed as he let her up for air.

“Precisely. Get your food love.” His finger trailed her jaw, that mischievous glint in his eye telling her she was in for a ride later.

They sat and ate, Gustaf pulling her into his lap, the need to feel her close. Soon there would be months where they’d be apart and these moments would be all he had to cling to. They talked of their vacation away with the kids, both looking forward to time together as a family without work or other obligations cutting into their time. He saw the stifled yawn as he nuzzled her neck, she was still tired, exhausted from earlier.

“Come soak with me again.” He murmured, his fingers lightly skimming over her body, enticing, arousing.

“I’m liable to fall asleep. I’m pretty wiped already.” She chuckled.

“Then fall asleep.” He kissed her on the one spot below her ear. “Nothing wrong with a nap in the tub.” Though what he had planned she wouldn’t be napping, he would completely wreck her so she slept deeply.

He ran the bath while she tidied up the dishes, lighting some candles and making sure everything was close at hand for her ultimate pleasure. She sat the teapot down with the cups and let him strip the robe from her body, fingers and lips blazing a path over her skin. Stepping in the tub he held out his hand for hers and helped her in. Sitting behind her he pulled her into his lap and smirked as she relaxed back against him. They sipped their tea and talked, sensual strokes of fingers against wet skin arousing them both.

“You up for trying something new kitten.” He growled, the light nip to her shoulder making her shudder.

“What did you have in mind?” She asked slyly knowing he wouldn’t give anything away.

“How are you feeling?” His fingers dipped between her folds, over her clit.

“Better after some food.” She sighed, her head falling back against his shoulder with a thud as that talented finger started to destroy her.

“Feel like putting a spin on soft and sleepy?” He grinned against her skin. “Take your mind off the last 24 hours?”

“So cryptic.” Her chuckle only widened the grin on his face.

“Is that a yes kitten?”

She sat up and turned to look at him. “Yes daddy.” She purred and kissed him sinfully. He wanted to play and after Ana had thrown a wrench in their plans last night, she wasn’t going to let her do that again tonight. It was a blip, they needed to move on.

“In that case, on your knees and turn around kitten.” He growled against her lips, eyes searching hers and only finding the playful glint in them before savaging her mouth. All traces of the emotions from the day gone for the moment. Helping her into position he knelt behind her, legs straddling her calves. “Rest your elbows and forearms on the edge of the tub.” He commanded gently, reaching over and laying a rolled up towel there to cushion the edge.

The water felt erotic against her like this, breasts in the water, spine out of it, the heat and feel of it against her slightly parted legs and pussy arousing her further. A million thoughts raced through her mind as to what he’d do to her, how he’d take her. She’d only ever had sex in the bath with him and all this was so new and exciting she was slightly nervous. The feel of soaped up hands gliding over her back and around her ribs to cup her breasts had an unadulterated moan echo off the tiles.

“Mmmm.” He purred. “I love those sounds you make when I touch you kitten.”

“That feels amazing.” She sighed, feeling all the tension melt off her.

He let his hands roam, relaxing the stress from her system, seducing her, arousing her. Coming up on his knees he rinsed his hand, added some lubricant to his hand, and stroked his hardening cock. Water sports needed some added equipment for mutual comfort especially when it was more than grinding. Those same fingers slipped between her folds, coating her, teasing her as they circled her entrance and then her clit.

“Daddy.” She whimpered, pushing back, greedy to feel him inside her.

“You want me kitten?” He purred.

“All of you.” She breathed as he pressed the engorged head of his cock against her opening. “Always.” Waiting there he pressed the jets on and focused them over her nipples and her clit, the added stimulation making her cry out in shock and ecstasy. Kissing his way up her spine he nipped along the nape of her neck, those pretty noises making his cock twitch, eager to take the plunge.

“Such a good girl for me.” He purred. “So patient for daddy’s cock.” His words and that tone always made her tremble. An erotic cocktail flooding her system and priming it for ultimate pleasure. Reaching a hand under the water he pinched her nipples hard, sensitizing them to the hot water now rippling against them.

“Daddy.” She whimpered. “Please.”

“I think you like that.” He murmured as a hand snaked down between her thighs, finger slipping over her clit, exposing it to the jet. Her cry was beautiful as he watched her in the mirror on the wall. His goddess poised to be fucked. Fingers roamed, pinching, caressing, stroking until she was whimpering, begging for him to enter and make her come. Leaning over he placed a hand between hers on the edge of the tub and loomed over her, caging her in, dominating.

She felt so small when he towered over her like this, small and safe, loved. He took care of her, gave her pleasure, took his own, but above all he freed her, the safety and security to relinquish all her control and just feel. This was no exception.

“I’m going to fuck you slow kitten.” He purred at her ear, the sharp bite to the side of her throat making her gasp. “So you feel every inch of me.” He gave his hips the slightest nudge to feed her the tip and her moan was delicious. “And once you’ve come over and over until you’re wrecked.” He nipped the other side of her throat. Trailing his fingers up the column of her throat he gripped it gently and tipped her head back until her crown rested against his chest and he looked down into those crystalline blue eyes. “I’m going to take you hard.” He growled and savaged her mouth from above. “You’re mine kitten. Every inch of you.” He breathed.

His statement rocked her to her core, the possessiveness, the love. It wasn’t to claim her in a way that was demeaning, or unhealthy, it was staking his claim for their relationship, she was his, he was hers, together.

“Look at me.” He breathed. As her eyes flicked to his he thrust inside.

“Daddy.” She choked, somewhere between a gasp, a moan, and a whimper. It was such a sweet sound.

“Kitten you’re so beautiful.” He breathed, and started to find that slow, devastating rhythm that would shatter her. Nothing aroused him or made him harder than watching her eyes as he slid inside her for the first time.

All she could do was hold on, her brain had shut down largely to the jets whipping her system into overdrive, and the cock tormenting every inch of her pussy. Those eyes of sinful blue watched her, the love she saw in them as he gently gripped her throat, her pulse singing to him from under her skin. She lost herself, let go, and let herself feel everything he gave her. Her climax shocked her as it caught her unawares, the gasp as it thundered through her making that smirk ghost his lips. Her body didn’t wait for a long build up, it rolled right into another peak and crashed through her harder than before. His grip at her throat squeezed and released with her orgasms, heightening, buzzing her system even further. She gave herself to it, let her body tremble and tense, the cries and whimpers tumbling from her lips.

He was painfully hard, the multiple orgasms and feeling her pussy grip him like this was incredible, but he wanted more for her tonight. As she came again he gripped her throat and waited until it ebbed before trailing those clever fingers down between her cleavage to ravage her breasts, lips ghosting hers to keep her head back. Reaching back he lubricated his fingers and stroked her puckered hole, the breathy scream into his mouth making him smile against her cheek.

“You like that don’t you kitten? The feel of me there.” He purred. “Knowing that at some point I’m going to fill that pretty little ass.” His teeth grazed the shell of her ear before he nipped it. “Makes you want to come again doesn’t it?” He whispered.

“Yes.” She breathed, as her body tensed.

“You feel it building.” He dipped two fingers in and straight back out, to give her a taste, probing, relaxing. Circling and dipping in and out again he built another rhythm which tipped her over the edge. That soft scream tearing from her as he nipped her jaw. He built another release, three fingers stretching her ready to take the plunge. As she crested, body tensed, he eased those three digits deeply inside her.

“Daddy.” Her scream as she came euphoric, as the rhythm of his fingers alternated with that of his cock. The gentle push and pull, the feeling of being so full of him sent her body into a never ending spiral of pleasure. Orgasm after orgasm crashed through her like waves on a beach with no end in sight.

“Fuck kitten you feel amazing.” He groaned, the fullness of his fingers inside her making her that much tighter to fuck. “So tight.” His growl gravely and claimed her mouth as she came again screaming. “Such beautiful sounds when I fuck you kitten.” He thrust harder, both hips and fingers, the change in rhythm making her whimper. He glanced at the mirror on the wall, his goddess in the throes of erotic passion, his body taking hers. With hips pistoning she came over and over again, a cascade of pleasure coursing through her system, wrecking her. Slowing his fingers he slipped them from her and cleaned them with soap before rinsing them off in the water. Her whimper had him chuckling wickedly in her ear. “Would you like to try that something new kitten?” He nipped her just below the ear.

“Please daddy.” Her mind went into overdrive. Would he, she wondered? Would he give her one of her ultimate fantasies, to feel him there, for him to fuck her there?

“You’re so good to me.” He growled as he pulled out of her gently and gripped his shaft in his lubricated hand. Stroking himself he made sure his tip was well coated and pressed it against her back door, the gentle probing preparing her and turning her gasp to a unbridled moan. He devoured her mouth as he continued, the feel of her tightness at his tip slowly relax for him eliciting his own groan. “Look at me.” He demanded softly, her eyes snapped to his. With a gentle thrust of his hips he gave her the tip, felt her puckered hole grip him so tightly he nearly came, her cry was guttural. “Fuck kitten.” He choked, cheek pressed against hers as he took a breath.

“Daddy please.” She begged, if he stopped now she’d die, he felt so fucking good. “Oh god.” She choked.

“Greedy little girl.” He growled smirking and inched inside her until he was fully seated. The sounds that came from both of them were primal. He swapped hands to support himself and pulled out before thrusting in again slowly. The tightness of her making him hiss. “I’m going to fuck you hard kitten.” He breathed, the only warning she was going to get as his free hand gripped her hip firmly. Starting slowly he plunged deep, filling her with each snap of his hips, the water splashing between her legs arousing her further. She was almost screaming with every thrust as he began to take her, fuck her as he pleased. “Look at me.” He commanded. “I want to watch you come.” He growled and no sooner had her eyes met his it ripped through her, his groan of pleasure at her puckered hole spasming around his cock almost making him blow his load. Reaching over he lubricated his fingers and slipped his hand between them the touch at her entrance and clit causing her to whimper. “You want daddy to fill you up kitten?” He purred as he slammed his cock into her circling her entrance with his fingers.

“Please daddy.” Her whimper more one of surprise at how good it felt.

Easing three digits into her pussy she lost herself to him and the sensations he pulled from her body. His cock pounded her ass, fingers slowly filled and curled, thumb brushing her clit. She was a writhing, bucking mess of erotic pleasure as one orgasm crashed straight into the other.

“You like that kitten? Hmmm?” He purred as he fucked her, the primal animal surging forward, the need to lose control and take his own pleasure.

“Daddy.” Her whimpers only spurred him on, whipping his system into a frenzy of needing to fuck her like it was the last time he ever would. “Please.” She knew how to make him come, what those pleas did to him.

“Sweet girl come for me.” His voice shuddering with his own pending release. He destroyed her, fucking her into the stratosphere, pleasure like she’d never felt before. Her climax was nothing short of earth shattering, pussy and anus contracting around his cock and fingers so tightly he roared as he orgasmed so hard he almost blacked out. He took her roughly as he rode out the release, pent up aggression and primal energy from the past day needing an outlet as he sated them both. Slowing to a stop he kissed her tenderly and rested his head against her shoulder panting. He eased out of her back door, soap already in hand and thoroughly cleaned his member before wrapping an arm around her for support, her arms were shaking violently. “Are you ok kitten?” She nodded. “I need to hear it love.”

“I’m good.” She whispered.

“Let me help you stand so we can get dry and go crash out.”

“I don’t think I can move.” She said her voice eerily quiet. Pulling the plug he washed her down for hygiene and as the tub emptied helped her to her feet. She was shaky as he turned her to face him, wrapping the towel around her.

Hooking a finger under her chin he waited for her to look at him, had he pushed her too far, he wondered? Too much too soon? He kissed her softly, the love he had for her soothing, sweeping her up in a cocoon of security. Stepping out of the tub first he dealt with the candles and scooped her into his arms and carried her to their bed, laying her down like she was made of glass.

“I’m ok.” She said softly as she curled into him, towel discarded, clinging to him as her system leveled out.

“Are you sure?” He pulled the covers around her and snuggled her in as she nodded. “Did you like it?”

She craned her head back to look at him, finger trailing his jaw. “I love what you do to me.” She said simply and kissed him sweetly. “The way you fuck me, wreck me.” She kissed him, lingering. “The way you free me.” She felt him relax, the anxiety that he’d gone too far falling from him.

“I really want to do that again sometime.” He said quietly, fingers stroking the length of her body before he snuggled her in.

“Me too.” Her voice muffled, she was nearly asleep.

“Sleep now love.” He kissed her brow. “I’ll rock your world again tomorrow before the kids get home.”

“Ok.” She yawned. “Gustaf?”

“Mmmm?”

“I love you.” She slurred, wrecked and sleepy.

“Love you too lovely lady.” He let the day go as she crashed out. “Just a blip, now we move on.” He mumbled and let the exhaustion claim him.

@hausofobsession @ill-skillsgard @grandpa-sweaters @authentic90skidd @tuckersgirl @fairlyfallacy @flowers-in-your-hayr @raewritesfiction @stinkerbelle007 @kamie-b @mrsaugustwalker @skrsgardspam @loliwrites @trippedmetaldetector @lihikainanea @fay-walden @nandadb

[misterewrites]

Underground Proper (Welcome to the Underground!)

Hello everyone! 2021! WOO! Thank god. I know it's pretty much just arbitrary signal of the passage of time but you gotta enjoy the little things. I hope you are all good, staying safe and sound in these chaotic times. Here is the new chapter which I hope you enjoy. 

It's finally time to enter the Underground proper. Abigail and company had an exciting large send off but the first steps of the journey are at hand and Abigail is quick to realize that leaving the Underground might be harder than she thought.

Reblog, enjoy stay safe tell your friends about it! Wear your masks, wash your hands, have a great week! E out!

and if you want to leave me comments or find an easier way to read it, here’s a link to it on ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814297/chapters/69919671

The longer Abigail stayed in the Underground, the more realized she was wildly getting further and further out of her depth.

She thought the little walk from the cemetery to town had properly prepared for her trek into the wilds but all it had really done was lure her into a false sense of security.

The tunnel floor was uneven, the ground straightening and sloping at random which nearly caused her to trip once or twice. The path would randomly grow and shrink as well, sometimes becoming so wide that the Swift Slivers could march side by side then without warning becoming so narrow the trio had to fall into a single file line. She jumped at noises that abruptly existed in the tunnel, signs of life or movement echoing further down the path. The air was frigid and moist, reminding Abigail of her town’s harshest winters. She tried to keep track of where the group currently was but that ultimately proved useless as the road would veer slightly left, snaked back and forth, bent at a weird angle and sometimes looped back around, rising or falling with a spiral or slope. Illumashrooms weren’t as plentiful as the town and while it wasn’t pitch dark, Abigail had to squint and focus among the dim light of the occasional mushroom found on the path.

Her dear departed brother Arthur once mentioned how he was not a fan of tight spaces. Claustrophobia the clerics called it. At the time Abigail thought him silly given that they lived in a wide open farm. Here, among the darkness and stony walls of the underground, Abigail understood what he meant more clearly.

Arthur.

Abigail could feel her heart ached terribly at the thought of her brother.

“Watch out here farm girl” Oliver’s voice called from out front.

Abigail snapped back to reality, her hand reaching out for Archibald’s shoulder as the road sloped sharply once more.

Abigail knew the other two were helping her through her first time through the tunnel and she wasn’t sure how to feel about it. She was used to being caught flat footed but never to this degree. Well except that one time during Winter’s Solstice. That was just awkward for everyone especially her.

Oliver was ahead, lightly humming the occasional song while calling out warnings about sudden shifts in the road. Archibald walked beside her when the path would allow, offering his hand then shoulder for her to brace herself with.

The boys were clearly no stranger to this way of traveling and while Abigail felt a little embarrassed at her tripping and confusion, she was grateful the two went out of her way to help her. Even Oliver hadn’t sent a pointed barb at her.

“I can see why it takes half day to a day.” Abigail sighed, steadying herself against Archibald “Is it always this rough?”

“Better and worse usually.” Oliver admitted, peering into the shifting shadows ahead “This just one path and since not many people go to West End, it’s usually uncared for here.”

He gestured to a illumashroom plucked from the ground and thrown to its side.

“But” he continued “The other paths are well worn, lot more people and lot more care put into maintaining the roads and the signs. More ways to get where you want too but also more roadblocks and unforeseen circumstances.”

“Mixed bag then.” Abigail huffed.

“Like life” Oliver replied.

Archibald nodded his head in agreement.

“How do you guys get used to it?”

Oliver motioned to himself “Born here.”

Archibald gestured to his sliver hued clothing.

“Right. Silly question.”

Archibald tiled his hand back and forth.

“Ha, thanks Archibald.”

He rose a thumb in response.

“Enough flirting back there.” Oliver shouted “It’s getting late.”

“Is it?”

“We’ve been working for about 6, 7 hours Archie?”

Archibald paused thoughtfully before wordlessly counting his fingers, holding up 7 after a moment.

Abigail glanced at them “Have we? I hadn’t noticed.”

“You will when we stop. Luckily there is a clearing up ahead.”

“Clearing? Like a field or?” Abigail glanced at Archibald who simply gestured forward.

“Clearing.” Abigail whispered in understanding.

Before them was a cavern, wide and spacious whose ceiling couldn’t been seen through the inky darkness. The walls were rough and jagged with the odd crack or smaller tunnel that led away from the beaten path. The faint of smell of ash filled the air as Abigail noticed the various imprints of tents and footsteps scattered across the floor, travelers long past persevered by dust.

“Rest stop” Oliver explained, putting his travel bag on the floor “There’s a couple of these caverns across the roads. Perfect to set up and keep an eye out when resting or sleeping. Usually there’s more people but like I said, no one comes to West End. Willingly at least.”

Abigail rose an eyebrow “You did though.”

If Oliver heard, he made no indication as he began removing things from his bag.

Archibald and Abigail followed suit, making themselves comfortable among the stony floor as they set up for the night.

______

Abigail was quick to realize what Oliver meant when he said she would notice once they stopped.

Once her little sleeping bag had been laid out and she folded up the cloak under her as a comfortable seat, she could feel the exhaustion ebb into her bones.

Abigail huffed tiredly as she took a seat “Wow, I’ve never been that winded before.”

Archibald was hard at work setting a fire pit, finding rocks around and enclosing the various logs of wood within while Oliver plucked at his lute mindlessly, sitting upon on his own pile of clothing for a seat.

“Lack of sun people say. Humans aren’t really suppose to go without it for long periods of time. Luckily a lot of food down here that helps with that.”

Abigail’s stomach rumbled hungrily at the mention of food. She briefly remembering eating snacks throughout the day but not a full meal.

Archibald fished out a piece of jerky from his pack and handed it to Abigail

Abigail smiled gratefully “Thanks.”

Archibald coughed, returning to his work as Oliver searched through his bag.

“Archie, Slimewood?”

He replied with an unhappy face.

“I picked up some Jub steak too.”

The archer nodded happily at the alternative.

“Slimewood? Jub steak?”

Oliver pulled out a carefully wrapped package, laying it to the side as he dug deeper “Food Abigail. I bought some for this road trip.”

“You bought food?? When?!” Abigail couldn’t recall seeing the bard make such a purchase.

“I snuck out after everyone fell asleep. Butcher owed me a favor so I did some midnight shopping.”

“And were you planing on sharing this information?”

“Yes” Oliver admitted “Now when it’s dinner time.”

“Surprisingly nice of you” Abigail murmured suspiciously. “Practical” Oliver corrected “We’re traveling together so the best shot to stay alive is to make sure we’re all well fed and in one peace. Especially this one.”

Oliver pointed at Archibald who beamed with pride.

“Right. Travel companions.”

“Hey you came at me with a knife.” Oliver reminded her.

“After you tried to rob me.” Abigail shot back darkly.

“Thought you were a corpse farm girl.”

Archibald looked back and forth between the two.

“Long story” Abigail offered sympathetically.

Oliver scoffed “I thought she was dead, tried to find something of worth, she came at me with a knife. Not that long of a story farm girl.”

Abigail glared openly at the bard. Oliver shrugged as Archibald finished the fire pit, flames and all.

Abigail sighed happily “Much better.”

“Oi merc, got a pan?”

Archibald nodded and pulled out an old worn frying pan. Oliver took it appreciatively and placed it upon the roaring flame, meat shortly followed after.

“Smells pretty good!”

“As opposed to?”

“I dunno. Not good? I don’t even know what this is!”

“First rule of eating food: Never asked what it’s made of.”

“I live on a farm. I’m aware of that rule.”

Archibald chuckled to himself as he eyed either tunnel entrance carefully for any sign of trouble.

The trio sat in a surprisingly peaceful silence among the crackling of the flame and sizzling of cooked meat.

“I’m surprised you know how to cook” Abigail admitted “Given that you’re a grave robber and a jerk.”

Archibald quietly nodded in agreement.

“Personality traits and old habits are not inductive of my skill set.” Oliver replied, turning the meat over.

“I don’t think I’ve seen a bard do anything besides sing and dance.

Oliver scoffed “They’re not real bards like me. I’m going to be the best and to be that, I need to be varied.”

Abigail couldn’t hide her surprise “So you’re not the best? I thought you burst into flames if you were ever honest.”

“I am honest” Oliver countered “I just decide how much honesty I need to share with people.”

Archibald snorted loudly.

“Yeah yeah” Oliver gestured threateningly with his spoon “Keep it up merc and I’ll burn your piece extra crispy and black.

Archibald rose his hand in surrender.

Abigail chuckled, smiling at her companions. She had forgotten how nice it was to be around people.

“Watch it farm girl” Oliver teased, passing her a plate filled with a well cook steak and odd side dishes “You keep smiling like that people might think we’re friends.”

“Moment of weakness. It’s been a long day.”

Oliver snickered, offering Archibald his plate “As long as we’re on the same page.”

Abigail decided to not reply.

Oliver took a smug pride at the others faces as they bit into their first taste of the sweetish salty meat.

“Not just another bard huh?”

Abigail stuck her tongue out “I’m not going to give you the satisfaction.”

Oliver turned to Archibald “How about you merc? Gonna give me some validation?”

Archibald choked, too caught off guard by the question. He gave a friendly thumbs up before trying to clear his airway.

“No greater compliment than a man choking on your food.” Oliver beamed proudly.

Abigail gently rubbed and patted his back in an attempt to help Archibald. He let out a might cough and smiled sheepishly towards Abigail in thanks.

“You don’t talk much huh?”

He shook his head.

“Not a fan?”

A nod.

“I understand.” Abigail gave a cheery smirk.

Archibald was awfully interested in his plate all of the sudden.

“So” Abigail glanced back towards Oliver “This competition? This isn’t you picking on a bunch of kids for a talent show right? You’re actually competing against real bards in a real competition.”

“Of course.” Oliver waved off her accusatory tone “I’m morally gray, not a bully.”

“You’ve been bullying me just fine.” Abigail murmured with an unhappy edge to her tone.

“It’s how I show tolerance.”

“How about you stop being a jerk and sing for us bard?”

Oliver rubbed his fingers together.

Abigail raised an eyebrow “Seriously? You’re going to charge us?”

“No point to do something for free when you can get paid for it.” Oliver gave impish grin.

Abigail frowned before an idea formed in her head “You know Archibald doesn’t think you can sing at all. He was telling me he thinks you just talk a big game but doesn’t see it.”

Archibald froze, his fork halfway between his open mouth and his plate. His eyes darted back and forth, unsure how he got pulled into this.

Oliver pursed his lips: On one hand he knew Abigail was baiting him given how much of a conversationalist Archibald had been this far. But on the other hand, he could never resist a chance to show off.

“I’m playing” Oliver stated simply as he slid his lute off his back “But because I want to. I need practice if I want to win first place.”

“Oh right sure.” Abigail nodded mockingly

Archibald was still confused.

Notes filled the still cave air. It was a soft tune, slow and peaceful reminding Abigail of a lullaby. The bard closed his eyes, swaying back and forth as his fingers strummed across the strings almost like they were made of air.

“For the one day I have long since gone through my past.” Oliver whispered, his voice gravelly and low “Memories of a place that surely can not last. For far and wide I have long always done roam, watching and seeking where I shall call home.”

The flourish, the rises and drops in the music filled Abigail with some nostalgia she hadn’t realized she’d been carrying: He was by no means perfect given some notes did not fit with the others and she could tell this slow more determined song was not his preferred style but even she had to admit this was nice. Surrounded by people, enjoying songs long into the night.

It was nice to be around people.

______

Abigail yawned tiredly as morning came. Well according to Oliver and Archibald it was morning: In the darkness of the tunnels, it was pretty much impossible to tell what time it actually was.

As they drew closer to the capital, Abigail had a better idea of what Oliver meant by better maintained: While not perfect, the path was well worn yet smooth. The slopes weren’t as drastic or without warning. Once or twice, the road branched off to some other path that shot off in some direction Abigail couldn’t hazard a guess.

“What are these all about?” Abigail motioned to yet another crack in a wall, some smaller tunnel that led off into the darkness.

Archibald guided her away from the opening as Oliver glanced backwards.

“Stay away from those.” Oliver eyed the crack cautiously “We call them sideways because who knows where you’re going to end up.”

“I don’t get it.” Abigail was unable to keep the confusion out of her tone.

“Unexplored tunnels.” Oliver clarified “Well as far as we know. No one knows where they go and they’re very dangerous. If you’re lucky, they’ll just spit you out somewhere on the main road. But no one can really be sure and it’s best not to tempt fate.”

A shiver ran down Abigail’s back as she moved closer to the middle of the road. She was already disoriented and lost on this main road to the capital. She didn’t want to know how would it feel be hopelessly lost in the dark.

Abigail nearly crashed into Oliver, took caught up in her thoughts to realize the bard had stopped dead in the road.

“Wha?!” Abigail flailed in surprise “Oliver! What are you doing?”

“Do you hear that?”

Abigail looked about, unsure what she was supposed to be hearing.

“No, I don’t hear anything.”

“Exactly.”

A sense of dread began to fill Abigail, her breathing becoming labored. Now that she thought of it, this was the first moment in her journey that there was a tense thick silence. Even in the middle of nowhere, she could hear far off noises among the chilly air. Now the air was still with an overwhelming quiet surrounding them.

“Archie?” Abigail called only to find the archer’s eyes darting about, bow ready in his hands.

He pulled her closer, putting her in the middle of himself and Oliver.

“Guys?”

“Not now Abigail.”

Abigail felt the tension growing, some unseen danger that lurked close by, waiting for their chance to strike.

Abigail glanced about, desperately trying to find some sort of clue to what was going on when she spotted it: glowing silver gleams peering through the darkness of the crack.

Something scurried out quickly, it’s claws scraping the stone walls as its form was silhouetted against the dim glow of the tunnel. She tried to make out what exactly it was but its skin or shell or whatever was too dark in this light.

It was small which was a comfort to Abigail though its claws were sharp and dug easily into the floor. It was misshapen that even Abigail, whom was well versed with a variety of animals, couldn’t tell its features. The only that was noticeable besides its claws were its sliver eyes which were smooth and solid.

“What’s that?” Abigail tilted her head quizzically.

“What is…?” Oliver whirled around “ARCHIE!”

“what, wait?” but no sooner the words had left her mouth, the creature let out a horrible shriek. It thundered in her ears with such a volume that it made her dizzy and unsteady.

The creature stood on its hind legs, throat wide open and the shriek slowly growing louder and louder.

Silence came without warning but it was welcomed.

Abigail panted heavily, the ringing almost unbearable as her sight slowly focused.

There was an arrow where the creature once stood.

Abigail turned sideways to find Archibald, sweat on his brow, his breath heavy and uneven.

She let out a sigh of relief “Did I tell you how much I love you?”

Archibald gave a weak smile.

“Move!”

Archibald and Abigail stared back at Oliver who began pulling at their wrist.

“MOVE NOW!!” Oliver shouted, shoving them forward into a desperate run.

Abigail opened her mouth when she heard the sound of dozens of claws wildly scratching and scraping at anything and everything.

The creatures burst forth from the crack or at least Abigail thought they were creatures. She couldn’t tell where one ended and another began. It was a mass of constantly shifting shadows that took odd shapes. It was if the creatures couldn’t agree on what form they should take. The only thing that did not change was the dozens pairs of sliver smooth eyes, their gaze lifeless yet single minded.

Abigail struggled to break into a run. Her feet felt heavy like the floor was pulling her deeper and deeper into the ground. She could feel fear creeping into every inch of her body, threatening to send her into shock as she tried to keep her panic under control.

“I don’t want to die.” Abigail murmured fearfully as her hands grasped deliriously at the air “Not here. Not yet. Mom, dad. Please! Not here! NOT YET!”

She couldn’t hold in the scream, the panic and fear was too much. She could feel the tears running down her cheeks, the whirl of claws closing the distance inch by inch.

There was a quietness that came with the end. A strange sensation of peace, of acceptance. She felt it now amid the fear and panic. She could hear the soft sounds of trumpets in her ears, a familiar song playing in her mind. It took her a moment to recognize the fanfare of the king’s guard, a triumphant march of victory. She always felt safer whenever she heard the blaring of the horns far in the distance.

She took a deep calming breath. Her body no longer felt sluggish and disconnected as the fanfare played faintly in her head.

She could feel Archibald just behind her, the occasional notch of an arrow letting her know he was trying to push back the hoard but not finding much luck.

Abigail looked forward and was not surprised to find Oliver busy at work. The jet black lute glowed with previously unseen blue runes scrawled across its surface. His fingers were furiously strumming across his lute as if their lives depended on it.

They probably did. His song was the only thing keeping the fear at bay.

“Bards.” Abigail muttered under her breath before calling out “How much further to the gate?”

“Not close enough!” Oliver answered, his fingers never stopping “We’re going to have to lose them another way!”

“There is no other way!” Abigail struggled to keep the tears from spilling onto her face.

Oliver cocked his head forward “One but you’re not going to like it!”

“Why?”

“Remember how I told you never to go down sideways?”

Abigail nearly stopped in her tracks but Archibald sprinted past, clasping her hand tight and pulled her forward.

“Yeah we’re going sideways. Straight ahead, get up here Archie!”

Archibald glanced backwards, the massive wall of claws and sliver eyes just a few feet behind.

Oliver whistled to get his attention “We know what’s behind us, I need you to clear what’s ahead or else we’re not going to make it! Get up here merc!”

Archibald let out a shaky breath and pushed further, dragging Abigail close behind.

The trio spotted Oliver’s idea: A split in the path. One path curved to the side, the dimly lit main path that led to Haven’s Nest. The other was not so much a path as it was a void of darkness, a path that sloped downward into the unknown.

“Oliver!” Abigail cried.

“We can die now or we die later!” Oliver firmly answered “And at least later we might not die, now go!”

Abigail nearly let go of Archibald’s hand but the mercenary gave her a comforting squeeze. He turned to her and spoke wordlessly with a simple smile.

I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.

She took a shaky breath but nodded in understanding.

The trio threw themselves at the opening, sailing through the air for a moment before landing with a dull thud onto the stony floor. Before any of them could react, they began sliding forward, the slope pushing them further deep into the dark.

Oliver’s lute dimly lit the tunnel the little they traveled. It must’ve been a heartbeat or two when the group found themselves tumbling across the straighten floor.

“Get up!” Oliver shouted, pulling the other two to their feet “We need to get going.”

“Where!?” Abigail cried “There’s nowhere to go!”

Archibald elbowed Oliver and pointed out a strange silhouette outlined in the darkness of the cavern.

“Is that a house?” Abigail’s voice asked with disbelief “Down here? That’s creepy.”

“And probably bad news.” Oliver admitted as he pushed the two towards the strange house cloaked in shadows “but later is later! Go go go!”

The claws echoed faintly from the tunnel but the trio had already reached the pouch of the home.

It was oddly similar to Abigail’s home though in much worse shape: Faded, splintered wood with dull peeling paint. The windows were blackened out with dust and the house creaked unhappily as they climbed the porch steps. The door swung open by itself and while that gave Abigail pause, Oliver shoved them in, shutting the door behind them and locking it.

“This is a bad idea.” Abigail panted breathlessly.

Oliver wiped the sweat off his brow “Hopefully we’ll live to regret it.”

“I doubt it.” A voice called from the shadows.

Oliver and Archibald threw themselves forward, pushing Abigail behind them in a defensive formation.

The air was thick with creak, creak, creak of heavy boots walking down some unseen stairs.

A figure appeared before them. He was taller than anyone else here with an old tattered riding cloak draping his massive figure. Brown eyes peered curiously under his hood, his thick beard black and gray. His armor was dented and worn with a faded symbol of a sun across his chest.

“You do not know where you roam children.” the stranger’s voice spoke, melodic and deep.

“At least we’re alive right?” Abigail offered hopefully.

“No you were right.” Oliver eyed the stranger’s symbol distastefully “This is was a terrible idea.”

Abigail leaned in, dropping her voice to a whisper “Is he bad news? A thief or murderer or something?”

“Worse.” Oliver glared openly “A paladin.”

[soyeahitsmiddleearth]

Useless

Fili x Reader x Kili

The company is almost killed by goblins, and right after this happens you're all cornered by Azog and his company of orcs and wargs. You feel completely useless, having been unable to prevent any of these things from happening. The two brothers, ever so kind, offer comfort one night while you're held up in Beorn's halls when you finally allow yourself to think.

Things never go quite as planned in this specific group of dwarves.

From random attacks from Orcs to getting stuck in a mountain range with fighting rock gods, there is never a boring day. 

The attack from the goblins proved to make everything so much harder, and then almost right after the scare with those hideous beasts, Azog and his merry band of assholes corner Thorin's Company at a cliff side. Gandalf ultimately ends up saving your sorry butts with his call on the eagles, and Thorin almost dies. 

All this happens, and you find that you're as useless to the group as the flies that bother these unwashed dwarves throughout the day. 

Even as you were attempting to outrun the huge demon bear on everyone's trails, you were still useless to the group because of your inability to run as fast as the others. You held up the end of the running line, Bombur outrunning all of you despite all his pudge which would actually be quite the funny sight if you weren't all running for your lives.

Suddenly, a building came in sight and you tried to speed up, but you only stumbled and almost knocked over the dwarf in front of you. Both Bilbo and Fili who were holding up the back grabbed your arms, hoisting you back up without stopping. 

Once you regain your footing you fall back into the rhythm of running, able to make it the rest of the way without incident. Eventually Fili runs up towards the front as Gandalf and Thorin take the back to make sure no one gets left behind. "Run faster. Y/N!" You hear said mountain king yell, but you've got nothing left in you. The dwarves end up piling up on the door, none of them thinking to actually open the door, and when your body slams into Ori from behind, you use him as leverage to flip the hatch up.  

Everyone piles in, and they waste no time in forcing the door shut, hitting the large snarling snout of the beast. The door closes and the latch is secured, and then everyone finally gets a chance to just breathe. 

There is silence for a bit aside from the sounds of everyone breathing heavily, before Gandalf speaks slowly.

"That is our host." 

His dramatic timing makes you sigh, and you reach up and adjust your wild hair, looking around the large home skeptically. Even when everyone else's breathing starts to calm, you're still panting as your heart rate struggles to calm down.

Bilbo approaches after a few moments, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. "Y/N? Are you alright?"

You give him a simple nod, settling down on a mound of hay against the wall, "I'm fine, Bilbo. Just tired from all the running, is all." 

He pats your shoulder lightly in response, then turns and joins the others in speaking with Gandalf. 

Eventually you did completely relax, energy replenishing as everyone settled in for the night. Some of them were starting to drift off to sleep already, but your mind was running a mile a minute, so you had no hope of actually getting rest. Many thoughts came and went, but eventually your mind decided to settle on the usefulness of your role in this group. 

You didn't cook like Bombur, burglarize like Bilbo, do magic like Gandalf, lead like Thorin or his nephews, hell you can't even grasp simple medicine like Oin. You were just a stupid little hobbit girl, tagging along with her brother because she didn't want to be home alone. You don't even have a proper weapon to protect yourself with, the dullness of the blade you were given only dueling that of the intelligence of a troll. 

These reflections only made you feel discouraged and dejected, your mind wandering to the possibility of everyone seeing you as nothing but a liability.

After a bit more of dwelling on this, you began to upset yourself greatly. You feel yourself becoming emotional, and when you can no longer withhold your sorrows you get up and rush off to a more private area of the large house to avoid grabbing anyones attention.

When you finally achieve seclusion, you sit yourself down and bury your face against your knees, trying to fight the self doubting thoughts plaguing your mind. They've no proper place to call home, and the hardships the have suffered are great, so what right do you have to drag them down? 

You hear the distinct sound of hay crunching under the weight of someone's feet, and you find yourself looking up rather quickly. 

Fili and Kili stand in the open doorway of the room you entered, both of them looking straight at you with matching expressions of confusion and worry.

You hurriedly wipe your face and offer up a forced smile to them. "O-Oh, Kili... Fili, I didn't hear you two get up", you pause and clear your throat, "Is something wrong?"

The puffiness around your eyes and the obvious tear streaks on your cheeks are clear indicators as to why you left so suddenly, and you can see that their trying to process what's going on here. 

The two brothers exchange a look, and then they both walk over and plop down on either side of you.

You look between the two slowly, questioning showing clearly on your face.

Kili's heavy arm rests over your shoulders, and he leans in a bit close. "Y/N, whats got you down so? It's practically killing us seeing you so sad like this."

You shift around a bit, looking at him shyly, "I-I'm not upset! I am... having an allergic reaction..." Wow, you can't even come up with excuses properly. Where will your horrible pathetic-ness end? 

Next to you Fili chuckles, and you feel yourself becoming even more embarrassed.

Fili shifts next to you, and then his head is laying in your lap as he stares up at you with his big blue eyes.

You look down at him for a moment, then tilt your head back and close your eyes. "If I tell you, you will both laugh at me." You state simply, strangely comforted by the two brothers presences despite your apprehension to share. 

Kili reaches over with his other hand and gently turns your head towards him, looking at you seriously, "There is nothing you can say that would make us laugh at your sorrows," he assures with a small smile, "You can tell us anything." 

A moment of silence passes by where you just look at him, searching his face for any sign of deception of insincerity. When you find none, you let out a long and overdramatic sigh and grumbling out, "I..." you clear your throat, "I don't provide anything for the group. I slow you all down. Even Bilbo has done so much more than I, and he claimed to hate adventures. All I do is... fall and stand in the middle of the group why you all put your lives on the line." You were amazed that you were able to say it so clearly while keeping the tears a bay, but your resolve was quickly declining. 

You sniffle quietly, a small whimper leaving past your lips. You breath heavily a couple times then hide your face with your hands shamefully, "I-I'm sorry, um, I..."

Fili sits up from your lap and you feel the arm around your shoulders pull you a bit closer. "Is that really what you think? That you drag us down? Because that's ridiculous." It's Fili who speaks up first after your explanation, but you find yourself doubting him. 

Kili removes his arm from your shoulders and pulls your hands from your face and he offers you a reassuring smile. "You bring many things to the group, Y/N. I mean... we all enjoy your company, Fili and I think you're great you know, and you think quickly on your feet." 

The doubt still shows on your face as clear as day, and you retort in frustration. "Enjoying my company doesn't keep anyone safe, Kili! I'm useless! Completely useless to this group, and to the both of you. Even Bilbo thinks I should've stayed in the shire, and he's right!" You didn't mean to snap at them, and your anger isn't actually directed at them, but you're just so furious with yourself. You take a deep breath and whimper out, "And now I'm being a total jerk when all you're trying to do is make me feel better!" 

They both exchange a worried look. 

Fili reaches up and cups your face gently in his hands, and you can see determination in his eyes. "Remember today when the beast was chasing us, and none of us had the brains to open that damned door? Remember how you jumped up and unlatched the door so we could all file in?" You give a slow now, eyes flickering between him and his brother who still holds your hands rather tightly.

Kili then spoke up, "What about the time when the trolls had us all caught, and you convinced those fools that eating you was would poison them and you released our ponies?" You give another slow nod.

Fili speaks again, "Or when the goblins were chasing us after Gandalf killed their king, and you cut the ropes behind us as we went so they couldn't follow?" 

You are beginning to understand what they're getting at. 

"I-I guess I see what you're saying..." Your voice is whispery as you look Fili straight in the eyes, watching as a smile lights up his face. 

"You've got to be one of the smartest in our group."

"And the prettiest!" Chimes in Kili.

You feel your face heat up at that, your eyes dipping down to look at the hay shyly. "I-I don't know about that..." 

The brothers laugh loudly, and you smile a bit at their joy. "There it is! She's smiling Kee. Look how pretty she is when she's smiling instead of crying!"

This time you laugh a bit, sniffling quietly because of how terribly stuffed your nose is. "S-Shut up you two, you're embarrassing me", you're mumbling again, but the smile betrays your feelings to them. 

Kili releases your hands and Fili lets your face go, but neither of them move to leave.

Fili sounds more serious when he speaks, "You're not useless you know. We know that you won't just drop everything you believe and listen, but it really is true."

Chewing gently on your bottom lip, you nod your head slowly to let him know you understand what he means. "I-I understand... um, thank you two, for, uh, talking to me, I-" You're silenced suddenly by a weight on your mouth, and it takes you a few moments to realize that you're being kissed by Kili. 

He pulls away after a few moments, and you're about to say something before the same weight returns, only this time it's Fili who's kissing you. When he pulls back, you're in a daze. They'd only kissed you for a few seconds each, but that's enough to fluster you. They are both looking at you with cheeky smiles, meanwhile you're so embarrassed and face is so warm that you could be mistaken for a heater. 

"We've made her all shy, but I think it suits her." Fili states proudly. 

"Don't be so loud, Fee, Bilbo will kill us if he thinks we've done something to her."

"Oh, good point..." he mumbled quietly. His expression brightens suddenly and her perks up as if struck by a great idea, "but I'm thinking that I need to kiss her again, incase I am to forget." 

"And me as well!" Kili agrees. 

You tap your finger against your knee a few times, listening to them speak back and fourth quietly. Honestly, you've not a clue what to make of this. "Boys... perhaps we should all go to bed and sort things out in the morning?" Two pairs of eyes move to you, and two mischievous smiles light their faces.

"Ah, good point. Go ahead and lay down, we'll both keep you warm!" Kili states cheekily, pulling you closer to him.

Fili laughs, wrapping his arm around you gently. "Common, stop teasing her brother, I think her head will explode if she gets any warmer." 

That one makes you laugh, and you find yourself almost finding this normal. 

Which is why you chance a soft, and very bashful, "I-If you want to share a sleeping space... I won't, um, be upset about it."

They smile again, and now your bed arrangements have been sorted for the rest of the trip. 

Lovely. 

[x--daughters-of-darkness--x]

Evanescence's Amy Lee on the Band's New Album, 'The Bitter Truth'

The singer is ready for the band's next era and to be seen as more than just a "cute frontwoman."

In the early aughts—when Juicy Couture sweatsuits dominated and The O.C.’s Seth Cohen was TV’s no.1 man—it was nearly impossible to not hear Evanescence’s “Bring Me To Life” piercing the airwaves. The throaty vocals and crushing guitar riffs help raise the single to number five on the Billboard Hot 100 and secure its certified platinum status. So it’s almost hard to believe that nearly two decades ago that level of success seemed unattainable for the band.

“From every angle starting out, we were the indie long shot,” bandleader Amy Lee recalls to Marie Claire from her home in Nashville. “Too many things about us didn’t quite fit the mainstream for it to be safe to spin [on the radio].”

She continues: “The biggest thing about us that was different, was that I’m female. The label insisted we had a male vocalist on the chorus of the song, to make it more familiar. I said ‘no,’ so they cut our funding, and I moved back in with my parents. I thought we were dropped. Instead, they called us a few weeks later with a compromise: We only had to do it on one song, and if we did it, they had a placement for us in a film that tied in the male/female theme and made the song have a bit of creative purpose.”

The film was the critically-panned Daredevil. But regardless of the film's flop, placement on the movie’s soundtrack bolstered the band’s pedigree. In a few short months in 2003, Evanescence went from playing clubs to an international stadium tour for their debut album, Fallen. The band catapulted to fame for their melodramatic, baroque-laced harmonies. And Lee, who was just 21 at the time, became revered for her “goth” rock princess aesthetic, flaunting heavy black eyeliner and sleek, raven hair.

Life quickly changed for Lee, who “wasn’t emotionally prepared to be so exposed.”

“I struggled with the differences between myself and my image, feeling like I was always coming up short of someone’s expectations, and frustrated about the lack of support I was getting from the people around me,” she says of the band’s early success. “I had to toughen up and fight for my place, my beliefs, my music, my band.” Lee’s internal battle ultimately prompted a shift in tone on Evanescence’s second album 2006’s The Open Door. “I stopped asking somebody to ‘save me,’” Lee says, quoting her “Bring Me to Life” lyrics, “and started making changes for the better.”

But it’s been nine years since Evanescence has put out any new material. “I needed to just remember who I was,” she says. “We had been going hard. I was just ready for a new chapter of my life.” So she started one. During the band’s sabbatical, Lee ended up writing music for a handful of films—including 2014 drama War Story and the romantic flick Blind (2017)—and recorded a children’s album featuring covers, as well as original songs. “I was really inspired to do something that didn’t sound like Evanescence,” Lee, now 38, recalls. “I needed an outlet to show some other sides of my personality for a while. That felt really good.”

At the same time, Lee was going through changes on a personal level: She relocated to Tennessee after living in New York for 13 years, had a son, now 6 years old, and suffered the loss of her brother. “It just sort of makes you zoom way out on yourself where you're looking kind of more existentially at life,” she says.

That perspective eventually evolved into something tangible: This year, the singer rallied the band back together. By February, Evanescence had a handful of songs ready to go. “We thought we were about to go on a big tour,” she recalls. The pandemic, of course, had other plans for the group.

But Lee was determined to put out music. Quarantine only made her need to create more salient. “I just wasn’t going to stop,” she says. “We were going to find a way, within the limitations, to do this now because I was not waiting anymore.” As it became harder to go into the studio, Lee worked with their producer, Nick Raskulinecz, alone. She met Raskulinecz in a parking lot, and he laid out the preamp, the compressor, and gear needed for recording while they sat 10 feet apart. The process was “unusual” but it worked.

The result is Evanescence’s forthcoming album, The Bitter Truth. “There are songs that are a part of this album that have been in the works for a decade, and songs that just started up this year,” she says. The material reflects how inspired the songwriter has become over time. “I get inspired being in nature, walking through the woods, looking up close at weird bugs,” she muses. But her biggest inspirations are the emotional experiences she’s had in her life, something that makes Evanescence’s music “as dramatic as it is.” “Things like losing someone you love, being a part of creating a new life.” Lee says. “[They] rock me on a deep level to a point where I feel like I have to make music.”

To usher in their new era, Evanescence released their slow-burning single “Wasted on You” in April. “I started writing [the song] on New Year’s Eve, and we got together and we finished it as a band,” she recalls. Evanescence didn’t intend for this particular track to be the The Bitter Truth’s lead single, but its meaning resonated more as lockdowns began, prompting a change in plans. “‘Wasted On You’ wasn’t supposed to be about this moment that we were all in—feeling frozen in time and stuck in place and wanting to break up with a moment and all those things—it just already existed and suddenly applied in a way that had more gravity than it did before,” says Lee.

Because of the overwhelming presence of COVID-19, April wasn’t the right time to release what they had intended to be their first single: the fierce political anthem “Use My Voice.” It instead debuted last week. “Our world is really messed up right now, and if we want it to change, then we can’t just sit around, complaining about it,” Lee says of the track. “We need to get up, speak out and use our voices, and make the change.”

For Lee, “Use My Voice” was a track that had been “bubbling” and “building” the past few years because of the state of the world and American politics. But she was struggling to find the right chorus to accompany the verses. To help her finish the track, Lee enlisted VERIDIA singer and friend Deena Jakoub. It’s something she couldn’t have imagined doing 15 years ago, when she felt like she needed to have complete ownership over her music to be taken seriously. “It was so hard to break through, and I had to fight so much for my rights beyond being a ‘cute frontwoman,’” says Lee. “Like, I’m a writer. I’m a piano player. I’m all these other things first, so hold on a minute before you count me out of the technicalities here. I never would have been open to that kind of collaboration [before].”

As one of the most powerful women in rock—a (largely) male-dominated category—Lee has had to simultaneously prove herself and get comfortable speaking up for her needs. Truthfully, she didn’t have much of a choice.

“I definitely have been the only girl in the room a lot in my life,” she says. While she has felt “empowered” by the number of women moving into diversified roles—producers, engineers, lighting technicians—she can’t help but acknowledge the challenges she faced: “You have to make your own space. You have to be the first one, make a great impression, be the most professional, the most on time and the most patient because you’re there and that’s not normal. You better prove that a woman does belong in the room.”

Amy Lee always has.

[marril96]

Dream a Little Dream

Pairing: Rowena x reader

Summary: Sleeping with Rowena results in an accident and tremendous amounts of guilt.

A/N: Inspired by this post and @miss-moon-guardian’s idea.

Editor: @miss-moon-guardian​

*****

Sleeping with Rowena was one of the best things in the world.

She was so small, so warm, perfect to wrap your arms around and hold against you. Sometimes she spooned you; other times you were the big spoon. There were times when you wrapped around each other, and those when you turned your backs to one another, butts brushing together.

Her hair tended to get in your face from time to time, red tendrils sprawling over your mouth and neck like snakes. There was that one time when you rolled over and pushed her off the bed; unconsciously so, but it hadn't stopped her from moaning dramatically as if she'd been hit by a truck and throwing you dirty looks all throughout the day.

Once, you'd managed to drool on her shoulder. A gross, incredibly embarrassing moment, but one you'd come to remember with humor rather than the initial discomfort. It had become a weapon Rowena liked to utilize to win silly arguments, to which you were always quick to respond with a middle finger or a raspberry. Or both, because why not go all the way, seeing as you were already engaged in childishness?

Many adventures were had in the bedroom, sexual escapades excluded. When one dated someone as peculiar as Rowena MacLeod, it was to be expected. The woman was extra in every sense of the word, even when she was asleep.

She loved cuddles (though she never asked for them aloud, the proud creature she was. You'd learned to recognize her body language for demanding them — not that it was hard for open arms and a pout accompanied by trembling lips could only say so much), but she also loved to sprawl all over the bed, taking up all the space as if she were still sleeping alone. You were no stranger to waking up with her arm or leg thrown over you, her hair in your mouth, covers shoved to the floor.

Tonight you'd gone to sleep rather simply. You were on your back, with Rowena's head resting on your chest. Your arm was wrapped around her, holding her against you. She fell asleep to the sound of your heartbeat; you, on the other hand, dozed off listening to her breathing, softly, calmly, her skin on yours filling you with warmth.

Having her so close gave you a sense of security. She was your home, your refuge, your everything. Your safe haven. The one person you knew you could count on.

You still couldn't fathom how you'd managed to get her to trust you, of all people. How you'd managed to get her to put her guard down, to let herself care about you, and, ultimately, love you. The woman was an acquired taste; she was demanding, bitchy, dramatic enough to put a Broadway actress to shame. And, underneath it all was a person. One hidden away beneath layers of coldness, behind steel walls. Terrified of the world around her, cruel and unforgiving.

You could see bits and pieces of that woman, and, with time, Rowena had allowed you to meet her. It was a privilege of the highest order, and you treated it as such, swearing to never do anything to jeopardize it. To never tear her heart out and crush it before her eyes with a wicked smile on your mouth.

To never hurt her the way she'd been hurt before.

Every time you told her you loved her, you meant it. And every time she said it back, you knew she felt it just as much. Because, as complicated as she was, Rowena wasn't difficult to figure out once you got to know her — really, truly know her, heart and soul alike.

When she cuddled up with you tonight, you knew it was a gesture of love. Unlike you, she wasn't too big on telling. But when it came to showing, she was a professional. Curling up against you was one of her favorite things. She was like a kitten like that, a small bundle of fluff and joy. And when you put your arm around her, the sound that she let out sounded suspiciously like a purr.

It was an ordinary night, no different than any other this week, and the one before that. Settling down did wonders for one's life. No hunters or monsters lurking about. No apocalypses on their way. Just a nice, normal suburban life.

You were dreaming of… something. You weren't entirely sure what it was. It was something, and — you were holding it. Yes, that was right. You were holding it for, despite not knowing what it was, you knew it was of immense importance. You had to keep it safe. You couldn't let it get into the wrong hands.

Someone you couldn't see smacked your arm. You tightened your hold on the thing. Mustn't lose it. Must keep it safe. The person persisted, hitting you, kicking at you, muttering… something, their voice too choked up, too cracked to properly let the words out.

All you knew was, they wanted your treasure.

And you wouldn't let them have it.

The more they fought you, the harder you held on. This was your possession, your prize, whatever the hell it was. You weren't going to give it up without a fight.

Or so you thought until pain unlike any you'd felt before shot through your arm and everything faded into blinding darkness.

Your eyes snapped open. Your breathing was fast, uneven, chest heaving as if you'd run for miles. Your arm was on fire, hot, slick blood trickling down your skin. Pouring out of wounds resembling crescents, that stung as if freshly sharpened knives had bit into your skin.

What the fuck? What the fuck?!

A sound of coughing, of hard, labored breathing startled you. Rowena was beside you on the bed, on her knees, hungrily sucking in breath after breath before pushing it out. Her hands were on her neck, skin crimson red, vibrant as her hair. Her eyes were wide, face pale as if she'd seen a ghost. Tears stained her cheeks, falling mercilessly one after the other. Dripping onto her lacy black pajamas.

You instantly sprung upright, protective mode kicking in. "Rowena!" Your reached for her shoulder.

She smacked your hand away.

The rejection stung. What happened? Why didn't she want you to touch her? Usually, she welcomed it. Touching her shoulder always calmed her, grounded her. Told her, without a single word spoken, that she was safe. That you were there and you weren't going to let anything happen to her — never again. Then your arms would open and she would snuggle in and let you hold her, for an hour if she needed it. She would cry and you would rock her, whisper softly to her, soothe her as if she were a child.

Why didn't she want it now? Why didn't she want you?

Wait a minute…

The dream. You holding onto something. Someone trying to make you let it go. You stubbornly refusing to let go. The stabbing pain. The bleeding wounds on your arm.

Oh, my god!

Had you hurt her? Had that something you held so vigorously been her head? Had you tried to choke her?

Had she, desperate to free herself of your grasp, scratched you?

God. Jesus. Fuck!

"Rowena," you said as softly as you could, guilt shooting through you like acid, eating you up from the inside, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

It had been three years since her most horrible death — since Lucifer, whose name had become all but a curse in this house — and choking was still a painful subject for her. The two of you used to role play; now, if she allowed you to grab her neck, it came with strict rules. She still had nightmares of the bastard showing up at her door, his hands on her neck, squeezing with force unlike any she'd ever felt. She still saw his face — his true face, horror personified. Still felt his boots slamming on her head, her skull giving in, bones cracking under the pressure. Still screamed and cried about it, felt the pain as her skull gave in and flames started licking at her skin, eating her up bit by little bit.

You swore to never let it happen again.

And now you'd hurt her — just as he had.

"Are you okay?" you asked — a stupid question, really, for she was certainly not okay. She was far from okay.

"I—" Rowena sucked in another breath. Pushed it out. Rinse and repeat. Swallowed the lump that had formed in her bruised throat. "I'm fine."

Physically, maybe, but you knew her mental state was far from fine. Was she back in that hotel room with Lucifer? Was she losing her breath, having her skull crushed, laying motionless in a pool of her own blood as fire devoured her?

"I just need a minute," she added.

A minute of you not touching her. A minute away from you.

A more than fair request, given the circumstances.

"Okay," you said with a nod, not that she could see it. "I'm really sorry for hurting you. I didn't mean to. I was dreaming, and I guess I must've—"

"It's fine," she cut you off.

It wasn't. Not by a longshot. "I'm really sorry." What else could you say? You hadn't meant to hurt her, but you did. It happened. You couldn't erase it, no matter how much you wanted to.

Rowena turned to you. Locked her red-rimmed eyes with yours. "I know, darling." A smile bloomed on her mouth; loving, encouraging, one of those smiles she gave you whenever you needed comfort.

Relief flooded through you. She wasn't mad. At least there was that.

"Can I?" Your eyes trailed to her hands, now resting on her lap.

Without a word, she reached for your hand. You squeezed, fingers wrapping over hers, holding on as if your life depended on it. It felt good to hold her, to feel her skin, soft as a caress and warm as home, on yours.

It was an intimate moment. She was vulnerable, fragile, and she let you see it. She let you in just as she had countless times before.

Only you.

"Did I squeeze hard?" If the red on her neck was any indication, you'd had quite a grip.

She nodded, and your heart sank, guilt stinging, tearing into you like a blade.

"You've got quite a grip, lass." Her tone was light, joking.

You weren't laughing. You wanted to cry. "I'm sorry."

She shot you a pointed stare. "How many times are you going to apologize?"

A thousand, if it would ease your guilt. If it would make it right. Swallowing, you said, "I had this dream that I was holding something under my arm."

"That would be my head," Rowena said, deadpan.

"Someone was trying to take it, so I kinda fought them."

"That would be me."

"I'm sorry." Her eyebrow rose. Stare intensified. You sighed. "I'm-I don't know what else to say. I feel really bad. I didn't wanna hurt you."

Her expression softened. "I know, Y/N. Let us move past it."

Okay. You could do that. It sounded like a good idea.

In theory.

The guilt still ate at you. Your heart still ached. You could put on a front, be all smiles and rainbows, but on the inside you would still tear yourself apart. The past three years hadn't been easy; you'd been there through the nightmares, the flashbacks, the crying fits as random memories struck. You'd watched her fall apart, over and over, and pull herself back together. You'd held her. Loved her. Supported her.

Only to now hurt her.

How were you supposed to get past that?

It may have been an accident, but the fact still remained that you were the one who'd hurt her. You were the one who'd sent her back to that hotel room, who'd made her relive that hell yet again.

"Okay," you said, though it really wasn't. You were willing to try to make it so. You cupped her cheek gently; she leaned into the touch, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. A wordless sign of trust. You smiled. "It won't happen again. I promise."

Rowena gave a small nod. "It wasn't that bad."

The drying tears on her cheeks and her still a tad faster than normal breathing said otherwise.

Her eyes fell upon the crescent wounds on your arm. "Did I do that?" There was regret in her tone, a matching expression spilling over her face.

"It's nothing. Just a few scratches." Marks of self-defense. She ran a finger over them, feeling them, inspecting them. The touch was gentle; as much as the wounds stung, there was comfort in it, care. Concern. "It's fine."

"I should see to them," she said.

You weren't the only protective one in this relationship. "Later."

She gave a nod. "I'll make you a potion."

"Okay, Mama Bear." She rolled her eyes at the nickname. You chuckled. "I'm glad you're okay."

"It takes more than a wee headlock to bring me down."

"Tough girl."

"You know it."

You pecked her on the tip of her nose, making her scrunch her face adorably, which, in turn, prompted you to smile. "Come on, let's go back to sleep. It's—" you glanced at your phone, eyes widening in surprise "—five AM. Jesus! I thought it was seven at least."

"We're a bit early," Rowena agreed.

The two of you resumed your positions — you on your back with her beside you, her head on your chest. Your hand tentatively slid around her.

"I'll try not to choke you this time," you said, only partly joking. The last thing you wanted was to hurt her again.

She chuckled. "If you would be so kind."

You pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Love you, baby."

"I love you, too, darling."

Not long after you both drifted back to sleep.

This time, thankfully, without weird dreams and headlocks.

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @oswinthestrange @songofthecagedmoose @apurdyfulmind @getthesalt-sam @metallihca @salembitchtrials @jay-eris @hellsmother @elizabeth-effie @shadowgirl-vsb @rowenaswife @wonderifshelikesroses @xfireandsin @liddell-alien @hotdiggitydammit @lae-lae @darkhumorsblog @angel7376 @cherrypierowena @ruthieconnells @evil-regal-vampiress @collectorofsecretsandsouls @angel-e-v-a @a-queen-and-her-throne @carryon-doctor-lock @fangirlxwritesx67

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me - Chapter 4

Warnings: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​, @thunderintheshadows​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​

While it is a more peaceful existence, it is often a lonelier one. The safety and security of seclusion at times feeling like isolation. Their property…their home itself…is beautiful beyond anything she could have imagined; surrounded by the sights and sounds of nature, the dense and lush woodlands and the pristine beach and majesty of the ocean. Aside from the noise and activity of their own residence, they are very much shut off from the rest of the world; two hundred yards from their closest neighbour, tucked at the very end of a three kilometer stretch of recently paved road. Weeks can pass by before she even sees another human being, let alone speaks to them.  There’d been scares and complications during the last three months of her final pregnancy and she’d had to relegate herself to living the life of a ‘shut in’ for the sake of both her health and that of her unborn daughter; never leaving the property aside from specialist appointments. Addie had been an incredibly determined little girl; wanting to make her debut long before it was safe for her to do so. It had been nothing short of a miracle when the doctors had managed to tide things over until week thirty-four, and everyone that had been providing care had thought she’d been in the NICU for the long haul. Only for her to prove them all wrong; being released after only a week and a half.

 A fighter. All five pounds, ten ounces of her.

 Normally Esme would spend the first part of her morning -after the older kids had been shipped off to school-  on the beach; Addie in the carrier strapped to her body, Declan toddling along beside them, allowing him to stop every so often to splash and stomp in the water or play in the sand. Today they walk the road instead, Mac’s leash secured around her waist, one hand pushing the baby in her stroller, the other tightly gripping Declan by the wrist. He is quick and has no fear and won’t think twice about bolting into the woods or onto someone else’s property.

 The pavement is hot but comfortable against their bare feet. It was one of the things that she had found so unusual at about Australia at first; no one ever seemed to wear shoes unless going into businesses, and even then, occasionally footwear would be noticeably absent. It is one of the charming ‘quirks’, going hand in hand with their laid-back natures and accents and hilarious slang words. An entirely different way of life; a refreshing and welcoming change of pace. Everyone seeming much more relaxed and calmer.  Friendly. Always willing to help one another out, whether friends or strangers. And while Colorado had been lovely in its own right, it often felt too ‘fast.’ That life was constantly hectic, barely given you a chance to catch your breath, never mind admire your surroundings. Everything about Australia is incredible to her; the scenery, the people, the way you just take time to enjoy everyone and everything around you.

 But it is still lonely at times. Outside of her own family, she doesn’t really have a life; no relatives that can visit, no friends to talk to or hang out with. It has been that way for years; long before she’d ever met Tyler. Once her first marriage had disintegrated, she’d begun the long and arduous journey of ‘rediscovery;’ more than content with the job she had, jumping from place to place, and living out of suitcases, never forming bonds, or putting down roots. She’s older now though; almost thirty-six. And lately she’s found herself craving more.  She had thought that she was perfect content with just being a wife and a mother, but her heart has begun to yearn for something extra.  Mom friends that she can talk to whether it be face to face or through a text, other women she could have lunch dates and engage in ‘girl talk’ with. Needing to be more than that someone’s spouse. Someone’s mother. Needing…wanting… to exist outside of the comforts of those two realms.

 And she feels guilty for that. As if she’s taking every thing she already has for granted. That she is makes her selfish for wanting more and she should just be happy with the way her life already is. She has a lot more than a lot of women in the world:  a supportive, loving, and helpful husband, five beautiful and amazing kids. Shouldn’t that be enough?

 ****

 It is a beautiful morning. Brilliant sunshine, the sky a vivid shade of blue and cluttered with enormous, pure white clouds. The temperature is always cooler where they are; a few to several degrees lower thanks to the abundance of trees and the winds that roll in off the ocean. And she is comfortable in a pair of tattered and weather jean shorts and a hoodie over her t-shirt, one of her husband’s ball caps pulled low over her eyes. It’s become a habit that she wishes she could break herself of; a hat used more for disguise than a cute accessory or protection from the sun. That paranoia still lingers; that there could always be someone out there watching, hell bent on revenge and looking for the perfect opportunity to enforce it.

 The walk is slow going; Declan routinely stopping to investigate things, whether it be rocks and sticks he finds particularly interesting, or wildlife that lingers at the tree line that he wants to watch. He is infinitely curious about the world around him, noticing everything and anything, big or small. He hasn’t met and animal or person he hasn’t liked, and vice vera. Out of the five, he’s the ‘charming’ one; able to melt hearts with those striking blue eyes and mischievous smile. Extremely affectionate and loving to everyone he meets, even old ladies in the grocery store who always seem to be enamoured by the thick red hair and the outrageously long eyelashes. While Esme may be biased -as all mothers are- he is just damn cute. A sweet little personality to go along with an even sweeter face. And she can’t resist pausing to take pictures of him with her phone; so adorable in his backwards baseball hat, loose tendrils of hair sticking out at the ears.

 She sends one of the photos -of Declan holding a baby garter snake and flashing that trademark smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes (his father’s smile)- to her husband’s cell, along with a text that reads: see what cute babies you make?

 The house closest to them has been up for sale for three months; a one-story white stucco place with elaborate Japanese inspired front gardens and an interlocking brick driveway. The property itself is much smaller that what they own, but no less stunning. She notices that not only has the ‘for sale’ sign been taken down, but there’s a bright blue Suzuki hatch back in the driveway; tailgate up, surrounded by boxes being unloaded by the home’s new owner. A tall, statuesque blond with vibrant pink, purple, and aquamarine highlights in her shoulder length tresses. And she watches -albeit briefly- as the woman continues to remove items from the back of the car. The couple that had lived there before had been in their eighties and absolutely hated kids and would complain about Millie and the twins ‘running wild and unsupervised’ in the road despite the fact that their father would have been  less than ten feet away. Never directing the complaints to Tyler himself, but waiting until they’d see him leave and then knock on the door to confront her. So it’s nice to see someone younger. That hopefully won’t be such a miserable asshole.

 The front door of the house has been left open and a pug comes waddling out; immediately noticing them at the end of the driveway, which starts off a round of barking from both the smaller dog and Mac and absolute excitement from Declan who begins repeatedly shrieking ‘oggie!’ and tries to yank his wrist out of her grasp. He’s incredibly strong for a little guy; heavy, solid, and powerful. And Mac -still barking yet thankfully not bolting- parks himself right in front of the toddler to block his path.

 The woman in the driveway smiles and waves to them in greeting, and that’s when Esme makes the ultimate mistake; letting go of her son’s hand to wave back. He seizes the opportunity; taking off up the driveway the second he feels his mother’s grasp release.

 “Oh my god Declan! Get back here!” she bellows, and unleashes Mac from around her waist, allowing the dog to chase after him. At the most he’ll grab the toddler by the back of the shirt or knock him to the ground. He’s done it before with each one of the kids; showing an incredible instinct -and with no training- to protect the little humans. “Declan William!” she hollers as she hurries after him and the dog. The latter now making friends with the initially startled pug; the new homeowner scooping Declan up and settling him on her hip.

 “Well hey there cutie,” the blond gushes, gently taking hold of his hands as he tries to tear the unique and colourful glasses off her face. “Who are you?”

 “This is Declan,” Esme responds. “And he’s not usually this much of a shit head, I swear.”

 “You’re just a curious little man, aren’t you! You just wanted to come and meet Stan-Lee. Here, let me introduce you…” their new neighbour drops down to one knee and places Declan on her thigh, taking his hand in hers and then running it over the pug’s fur. The toddler giggling with the dog licks at his hand. “See that? He likes you already! He loves to meet new friends. Especially little ones.”

 “I am so sorry,” Esme can feel the blush in her cheeks. “I’m usually not that stupid. Letting him get away like that. Especially on the road. Although no one but us ever comes down this far. We used to get people that would speed down here and park on our property to get into the woods. But we own all that, so my husband went out and scared the crap out of them with a hunting rifle and they never came back. You must think I’m a shitty parent.”

 The blond waves off the mere suggestion. “Not at all. They get away sometimes. No matter how hard we try to stop them. Not to mention he’s crazy strong! Two? Two and a half?”

 “Seventeen months. I know. He’s absurdly tall. But so is his dad. I am sorry he ran over like that. Bothering you and your dog and…”

 “It’s no bother. Honest. I’m Salena,” she offers a hand, and Esme accepts it warmly.

 “I’m Esme. And that’s Mac,” she nods at the German Shepherd as he playfights with the pug. “It’s actually Macaroni. Don’t ask. My son named him. And this is Adeline,” she gestures to the stroller. “Be we call her Addie.”

 “Is this your little sister?” Salena speaks to Declan as she places him on the ground and takes him by the hand, leading him to the stroller. “How about you show me your little sister. I bet she’s a cutie, just like you. May I?” she asks Esme, taking hold of the corner of the blanket that covers the buggy.

 “Of course.”

 She peels the blanket back, then places a hand over her chest. “Oh my gracious! Look at you, pretty girl! Aren’t you just a darling! You’re just new.”

 “Very new,” Esme confirms. “Only two weeks.”

 “And you already look like that?”  Salena looks over the top rim of her glasses as she eyes Esme from head to toe.

 “Please! The clothes hide everything, trust me. I’m huge. And I feel gross.”

 “You’re crazy! You look amazing. Are these your only two?”

 “No. There’s three more,” she says, and the neighbour’s eyes widen. “Five-year-old twin boys and a soon to be six-year-old daughter. I know,’ she laughs. “I’m crazy.”

 “I just can’t believe that body’s had five kids. Five’s the limit?”

 “Four was the original limit but by husband wanted one more. I don’t know who is more insane. Me or him.”

 “Well if these two are as beautiful as they are, I can only imagine what the other three look like. The red hair comes from your husband?”

 “His mother. Declan’s the only one with it. The other three are blond. Or light brown. Whatever you want to call it. And the last one is all me. Which I feel I deserved after having four that look and act exactly like their father. All that work and getting fat and I don’t get one that looks like me? That is some bullshit.”

 “Would you like to come in?” Salena inquires, nodding towards the house. “I have a breakfast casserole in the oven, and it is way too much for just one person, even with leftovers.”

 “We shouldn’t. We were just on a walk before lunch and we don’t want to impose or…”

 “You won’t be imposing at all. We can sit out back and chat some more. You’re the first person I’ve met since moving to Cookstown. I was staying a hotel right in town while waiting for the house to close. It would be nice to have a friend that’s close by.”

 It’s tempting, and as much as she loves the idea of having a friend…especially a neighbour…she knows Tyler will be hesitant. He’s severely overprotective. Beginning after Dhaka and becoming increasingly worse over the years, hitting its peak after the McMann incident. In his mind, everyone is a possible threat. Including the neighbour with the funky glasses and the colorful hair.

 “Just stay for a little while,” the other woman urges. “Just for something to eat and a little chat. I don’t bite. I promise.”

 “It’s not that and it’s not you, believe me,” Esme attempts to explain. “This is going to sound really weird, but things went really bad before we moved here and I’m a little…apprehensive…when it comes to new people. It’s not personal. I swear. It’s all my own issues.”

 “I promise I am not a serial killer. Just come in and have some lunch and let me spend some more with this cutie pie,” she tickles Declan’s stomach until he’s giggling hysterically and beaming up at her with the utmost adoration. “Just an hour,” she says. “If I bore you or I annoy before then, you can leave. I won’t hold you hostage.”

 “Okay,” Esme finally agrees, as Salena scoops Declan up once more and leads the way towards the house.

 ****

He receives the text message just as he pulls his truck up in front of his father’s new place; a small, cottage style bungalow in a newly established retirement and nursing care community in Port Douglas. It had been bittersweet when he’d eventually found out that the old man had sold the family home. The years there hadn’t all been horrible; there’d been a handful of good memories made between those four walls. That house was the last physical tie that Tyler had had to his mother, and the new owners had bulldozed it with plans on custom build for the lot. The demolition had finally erased all the dark secrets that the place had once held. All the cruel words, all the tears, all the holes in the walls, all the beatings.

 Killing the engine, his pulls his cell from the side pocket of his cargos and checks the message. A slow smile spreading across his face when he sees the picture of his youngest son, and the words that his wife had sent afterwards. If there is one thing they excel at, it’s making beautiful children. And the activities that help with the actual creation of them. He texts her back, telling her that they’ve just reached his dad’s place and have two stops afterwards close to home. That he loves her and the kids and will see them soon.

 He begins to ask where she is but decides against it. It will only irritate her if she feels as if he’s keeping tabs on her and attempting to control her. She claims he’s overprotective to the point of suffocation, something that the therapist had said they’d touch on in the next session. Why he is the way he is and what he can do to either control it or stop it altogether. Tyler doesn’t necessarily want to be that way; he doesn’t want her to feel as if he’s locking her away in the house and controlling every move she makes. But he’s already come so close to losing her. Twice. And he doesn’t want to take the chance of there being a third time.

 So he doesn’t ask. Even though it gnaws at his stomach that she’s out there. Off the property. With two of his kids in tow. Instead he pockets his cell, pulls the keys from the ignition, and then finishes the coffee that sits in one of the cup holders between the front seats.

 “How are we going to explain me?” Ovi inquires. “Am I just going to be some guy that you hired or…?”

 “He already knows all about you.”

 “How much does he know? Or what does he know?”

 “Your folks were friends of mine and Esme’s, they died, left us you in their will. Nice and simple. It doesn’t need to be complicated.”

 The lying never stops. Not when it comes to the old life. To the old Tyler. But at this stage in the game -with his father not functioning properly in the first place- he doesn’t see the need to burden the old man with the truth. Chances are he’d be extremely pissed and/or disgusted and wouldn’t even remember what he’d been told the next day.

 “And you think he believes it?” Ovi asks.

 “Mate, I don’t even know if he knows who I am anymore. Chances are he doesn’t even remember I have a wife and kids. Or that I even told him about you already. But if he asks, that’s what we tell him. Got it?”

 Ovi nods.

 Tyler opens the compartment between their seats and fishes out the extra bottle of anti anxiety meds. It’s always smart to have them on hand; never knowing what situations or environments will bring on an attack. But he can already feel the heaviness in his chest and the dryness in his mouth, and he takes three of the pills and places them under his tongue, waiting for them to full dissolve before putting the bottle in his pocket.

 It’s a hell of a way to live. Having to dope yourself up just to be able to get out of the goddamn car.

 And he’s plain fucking sick of it.

 ****

 The personal support worker greets them at the front door; a short and stocky Aboriginal woman clad in brightly patterned scrubs and bearing a name tag that identifies her as Maggie. She as kind, almost sad eyes, and a soft, pleasant smile and her grip is deceptively strong when she shakes their hands.

 “You must be Trevor,” she addresses him.

 “Tyler,” he gently corrects, and removing his sunglasses, hangs them on the neck of his t-shirt.

 She offers an apologetic smile. “He told me he was expecting someone named Trevor.”

 “Trevor was his brother. My uncle. He died twenty years ago. But I’m Tyler. His son.”

 “This happens, you know,” she sighs. “Moment when they can’t remember the people in the present, but they remember the ones from the past. It isn’t personal. It’s just the disease. It’s a cruel thing; what it does to people.”

 He nods in agreement, trying to at least appear sympathetic. But he feels nothing. No empathy. No pity. No sorrow that his father is slipping away. No regrets that they’ve let the years go by without even attempting a reconciliation.

 “You just moved back, I hear,” Maggie comments, as she leads them from the front foyer and towards the back of the house. “Were you gone long?”

 “Five and a half years.”

 “That’s a long time to be away from home. What made you come back?”

 “I came into some money and I was able to retire early,” Tyler explains. It’s not a total lie; that part did happen. It just wasn’t as easy as he’s making it sound. “My wife and I decided this was the best place to raise our kids.”

 “Well I can’t argue with that. Is this them?”  Maggie pauses in the hall between the living room and kitchen, nodding at the frame photographs on the wall. “Your kids?”

 It’s their school pictures from last year when they’d still been in Telluride. Before they’d ever heard of Michael McMann. And one of Declan when he’d just been a baby; not even crawling or walking yet.

 Tyler nods. “They’re a year older now. And we added another. A little girl. Two weeks old.”

 Maggie arches an eyebrow. “You’re telling me you have five kids?”

 “Yup.”

 “Five kids,” she breathes and shakes her head. “Boy, you’re either both brave as hell or you’re both just plain crazy.”

 “Maybe both?” Ovi suggests, and then laughs when Tyler directs a playful elbow into his stomach.

 “I actually have six kids,” Tyler says. “If we count him,” he jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “When he’s not being a smart ass.”

 Maggie looks Ovi up and down. “You’re one of his…” she nods at Tyler. “…kids?”

 The young man nods.

 “And just how does that work? When you look like you do…” she looks at Tyler, then at Ovi. “…and you look like you do.”

 “They took me in,” Ovi explains. “Six years ago. After my parents died. It was in my mother’s will. That I was supposed to go to Tyler. So…. here I am.”

 “Here he is,” Tyler confirms, and tousles Ovi’s hair. “Congratulations. It’s a boy. All six foot one and two hundred pounds of him.”

 “He’s not my father, but he is my dad,” Ovi says. “And that’s good enough for me.”

 Maggie gives a slow nod of agreement, and then once again leads the way down the hall. “Your father insisted we put those pictures up as soon as he moved in. He’s extremely proud of his grandkids.”

 Tyler doubts it. On both counts.

 “He’s having one of his ‘okay’ days,” she says. “Woke up knowing what day is, what month, what year.”

 “But thinks his dead brother is going to show up,” Tyler tosses out. And again, nothing. Not even the slightest hint of sadness. The man doesn’t deserve any. Not after the life he’s lived. Not with all the things he’s said and all the things he’s done.

 “He may have just screwed the name up,” she suggests. “I mean, you’re his son. He obviously knows your name.”

 “I haven’t been his son in a long time,” Tyler says. It doesn’t hurt to admit. It just is what it is. In the same way that Ovi may still bear the Mahajan name, but his father had stopped being a part of his life a long time ago because of his own selfish and evil choices. Just as Tyler’s old man had destroyed their relationship with the use of a belt or a fist or whatever else his father could get his hands on.

 “You’ll always be his son,” Maggie’s tone has a scolding tone to it. “He helped give you life.”

 “That’s about all he did. He knocked my mum up. That’s it. I know you mean well, but you shouldn’t be lecturing about how things are between him and I. I lived with him. You didn’t. So how about we just cut the chit chat and you mind your own business.”

 She holds her hands up un surrender, then nods towards the sliding glass door that leads out onto a small patio. “He’s out there. Likes to sit in the sun and listen to the birds. He’s a very sweet man. Very gentle. Very good to us.”

 Tyler gives a derisive snort. It will be a cold day in hell before he acknowledges any of those traits. Because before the old man’s brain started going on him, he was a tyrant. Controlling and manipulative. Drinking far too much. Treating his mother like a slave and then degrading her and beating her if she dared stand up for herself. And when she’d died, all that cruelty and abuse had been turned onto his only child. He could forgive what his father had done to him, but there’s no goddamn way he’d ever forgive him for what he’d done to his mum.

 ****

 His father sits in an old porch swing; frail and sickly looking, a far cry from the man he’d been the last time Tyler had seen him six years ago. When he’d still carried himself with a hint of cockiness and superiority; shoulders still broad, eyes still icy and intimidating. He’s a shell of his former self, and Tyler almost hates himself for viewing this as a form of karma. That after years of treating people horribly, the old man has been reduced to needing help from complete strangers to perform even the smallest of tasks.

 “William, “ Maggie speaks from the doorway. “You have company. Your son and your...” she looks at Ovi for clarification as to just who he is.

 “Grandson,” Tyler finishes for her.

 “Your son and your grandson are here,” she continues. “They’ve come to visit.”

 Tyler gives her a small, appreciative smile and then waits until she steps back into the house and shuts the door before turning to Ovi. “Why don’t you go and find that list he supposedly made of the things we need to fix. Probably on the fridge or the kitchen table or...”

 “TV,” his father speaks up. “It’s by the TV.”

 Tyler smirks. “Go check there. See what you can do on your own. I’ll be in in a few.”

 Ovi nods, then gives a nervous smile and a small wave when he notices Tyler’s father watching him, a puzzled look on his face.

 “Go on,” Tyler encourages. “I need a few minutes here.”

 “Okay,” Ovi agrees, and slips back into the house.

 “Hey dad,” Tyler greets, as he grabs one of the patio chairs and places it facing the swing, sighing heavily as he sinks down into it. “You know who I am right?”

 His father nods, then leans forward and takes a hold of Tyler’s chin, turning his face to one side, then the other. “They let you keep that fur in the army?”

 “I’m not in the army anymore. I haven’t been in it for a long time.”

 “The war is over? They sent you home? From Afghanistan?”

 “I was in Afghanistan sixteen years ago. The war’s been over for a while. That one at least.”

 “So you’re home now?”

 Tyler nods.

 “I don’t know if I have enough room here for you. There’s not a lot of space. I had to get rid of the old place and downsize and...”

 “Dad, I have my own place to live. In Cookstown. With my wife and my kids.”

 He looks puzzled. “You have more than one now? When did that happen? Wasn’t Sarah just getting ready to have Austin?”

 Tyler sighs and runs a hand through his hair, then over his face. “Sarah and I haven’t been together in a long time. Since Austin died. That’s almost sixteen years ago now.”

 His father cocks his head to the side, confusion in his eyes and lining his face. “It is?”

 “I got married again. You were at the wedding. In Sydney. Same little place you and mum got married at. Near the opera house.”

 “Tiny little dark haired thing?”

 “Esme. You made a joke about her having a weird name.”

 “Esme...Esme...” his eyes squint as he tries to remember. “...cute wee thing. I like her. She’s a sweetheart. You’re still married to her?”

 “Six years and counting. She’s still putting up with me somehow. Do you remember meeting your granddaughter? Amelia? I brought her to the old house.”

 His father nods.

 “She’s going to be six in a couple months. I’ve also got twin boys that just turned five. Tyler and Tanner and another boy that’s seventeen months, Declan. And we just had another baby two weeks ago. A little girl. Adeline.”

 The old man smiles. “Your mother’s name.”

 “We call her Addie for short.”

 “That’s nice. Real nice. That you named her after your mother. She loved you so much, you know. Your mother. You were her pride and joy. The light of her life. I’d never seen her so as happy as she was the day you were born. She was a good mom to you. A real good mom.”

 “Yeah....” Tyler clears his throat noisily, trying to rid himself of the lump of emotion that sits squarely in his windpipe. “...she was.”

 “She’s a good mom? Your wife?”

 “She’s an incredible mom. I couldn’t have asked for a better mother for my kids. Or for a better woman to give me children.”

 “Six years?” his father asks. That you’ve been together?”

 “Six years and a couple of months,” Tyler confirms. “I haven’t screwed this one up. Not yet, anyway.”

 “Must be a good woman. A strong woman. To put up with the likes of you. You’ve always been a handful.”  It isn’t said with malice; there’s a soft smile curving the old man’s lips.

 “She keeps hanging in there. Keeps giving me another chance every time I screw up. Which has been a lot, unfortunately. But she never gives up on us. On me.”

 “Don’t let her get away. You’ll regret it if you do. And treat her right. Don’t make the same mistakes I did. You’re better than that. You always have been. You’re better than me. Thank Christ.”

 “Well I guess that’s one thing I do have to thank you for,” Tyler muses. “Showing me how not to be.”

 “And you’re back home? In Australia?”

 “We were in Colorado. We just move back six months ago. We should get you out to the house. You’d love it. It’s right on the beach. Awesome spot. And you’d get to see Amelia again. And meet your other grandkids.”

 His father smiles. “I’d like that.”

 “Maybe for Amelia’s birthday,” Tyler suggests, and then stares down at his hands; palms up, studying all the callouses and scars that years on the job have left behind.

 There’s so much he wants to say. Things that he needs to get off his chest in regard to the nightmare that he’d lived through growing up. He wants to punish his father; make him feel even the slightest bit of regret and remorse for all the things he’s said and done.

 But he doesn’t. Because whatever he says will never come close to the torment that’s always taking place in father’s broken mind.