#ALSO SCOTT SOUNDED SO SAD THAT HE WAS MOVING AWAY :((((((

[storytellerofuntoldlegends]

SPARROW IS A COPPER GOLEM NOW AWWWW!!!! also i LOVE the editing in the video, what with sparrow starting off with a more robotic voice and the code on screen, and then him looking at the qr code and automatically playing the ad and freaking himself out!!! ALSO HIM JUST. SITTING ON SCOTT’S CHEST AND THROWING REDSTONE AT HIM AS HE TRIED TO SLEEP HELP. AND HIM GETTING HYPERFOCUSED ON BUTTONS I. he’s so cute i’d kill for him i think.

[scribbling-dragon]

45 and flower husbands (or maybe emberfrost/snowbugs :eyes:) for the ask game!

breath from death

summary:

“Oh, love…” the sheer agony in Scott’s voice is enough to make Tango crack his eyes open, watery from his subsequent coughing fits, tears continuing to bead up as he tries to bring Scott’s shape into focus. When he does, he almost wishes he hadn’t, having to resist the urge to recoil from the way Scott is looking at him.

(ao3 link)

(2,473 words)

hdjsk this was meant to be more angsty than it actually was,, i just made tango into a bit of a loser tbh. but! hope you enjoy the snowbugs (i can't lie the only reason i wrote them is bc i loved the name hdsjhsjk). did i see scott gift tango a heart and go a little silly? yes. yes i did

also! if you liked this and want to send in another request the list of prompts is here! i've got a lotta free time at the moment, so i'll definitely be writing stuff a lot more than i have been recently

“Ooh, Skizz really wasn’t lying, hm?”

Tango glances up at the voice, not even bothering to lean away from the bush he’s made himself a comfy spot against. Or as comfy as he can be when every part of him is in burning pain and agony. But the slight slouch he’s found himself in puts the least amount of pressure on his various injuries and maladies, and so is the most comfortable he can be right now.

“Scott,” he croaks out, wincing a little at how terrible his voice really sounds. He’d been spitting smoke earlier, angry with how much energy it was taking to simply haul himself to his feet. It’s left him with the inside of his mouth covered in ash, and his throat feeling like it’s been rubbed raw. “Good to see you could make it.”

Skizz is somewhere nearby, but not close enough to interrupt if Scott decided he wanted to put him out of his misery right here and now. He’s somewhat caught between being thankful for such a thing, and angry that he couldn’t go on any further.

He’d just be another footnote at the end of a book, another mention; a small aside, make sure to mention the one that almost dies in the most silent and insignificant ways.

He is well aware of his previous contributions to these games. He goes out with barely a sound, and the world carries on without him, continues to spin round and round, maybe a few choosing to mourn him. Be sad over the misfortune of his death, how easily such a thing could have been prevented.

He doesn’t even realise he’s breathing smoke again until Scott coughs, waving a hand in front of his face to waft the smoke away. Tango snaps his jaw shut almost immediately, muttering a quiet “sorry” when Scott continues to cough.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Rough day?”

“You could say that,” he stretches his back out, wincing as it tugs at the edges of unhealed injuries. A stray branch from within the cherry blossom bush scraping a hot line of agony across his spine. He curls inwards on himself with a hiss of pain, tears beading in his eyes at the sudden sting of all his injuries making their protests known.

The small relief from earlier, afforded to him by other servermates, swayed by Skizz’s plea for a small gift of love, a small act of mercy. A better act of mercy would be to put him out of his misery entirely, he thinks humourlessly.

“Hey, c’mon, you're just making this worse for yourself,” a hand lays over the back of his own hand, slowly encircling it before pulling it away. The movements are done with such delicacy, such gentleness, it’s as though he’s made of an extremely fragile glass. Like he’d break if the hands moved him too fast, that he’d shatter into a thousand pieces.

Maybe he would. He feels about ready to fall apart right now, anyway.

“See,” the person – Scott, it’s still Scott, he’s still here, Tango realises belatedly – breathes, his voice barely above a whisper. “That’s much better. Now, where has your teammate gotten off to?”

“He, agh,” he coughs again, a small curl of smoke rolling off his tongue as he hacks, one or both his lungs threatening to make an appearance as he doubles over again, stomach cramping with the force of his coughs. “He went to get some resources, something to better survive the next few hours.”

“He didn’t stay with you?”

“The idiot would have,” he scoffs, laughing slightly. He then has to cough again, appreciating Scott’s gentle stroking over the top of his shoulders. He’s nowhere near as warm as Tango himself is, the fire stoked within his core happily blazing away, despite the disrepair of the rest of his body. “I made him leave. I’m dead either way. My death will be nothing to gasp and cry over, better he’s not around when it does happen.”

“Oh, love…” the sheer agony in Scott’s voice is enough to make Tango crack his eyes open, watery from his subsequent coughing fits, tears continuing to bead up as he tries to bring Scott’s shape into focus.

When he does, he almost wishes he hadn’t, having to resist the urge to recoil from the way Scott is looking at him. His hand is still lying over the top of Tango’s shoulders gently, though no longer stroking to soothe him through a coughing fit.

When Scott had turned up, looking down at him with those gleaming red eyes. Eyes that herald violence, promise it, Tango had willingly accepted his death. Would probably have stretched his arms out and taunted Scott for coming after someone when their guard is so far down that it’s ripped to shreds if even twitching his arms didn’t hurt so badly.

And then he’d just…stood there, crouched in front of him and comforted him as he coughed.

It’s his own fault that his lungs are in such a sorry state, anger over everything about these damn games making his flame burn too hot too quickly. He usually has better control over it, breathes fire for a party trick sometimes, not to clog his lungs with ash. Still, Scott had provided the comfort happily, despite them being on rival teams now, people that should be looking to kill each other. Not make sure that he can breathe and is comfortable and that his ally hasn’t abandoned him.

“Every death is worth shedding at least a tear over,” Scott tells him. His hands have migrated from his shoulders to cradling the back of his neck, now kneeling in front of him instead of crouching. Tango almost wants to tell him that he’ll stain his jeans with grass and mud; they may already be wrecked beyond repair, ripped in ways that aren’t purposeful and stained with old blood, but the thought still crosses his mind. “You’ve built good alliances here, love, there will be several tears shed over your death.”

“And a few oh, poor Tango, what a terrible way to go!’s following behind it,” he snorts without humour, only sparing a moment to be relieved when it doesn’t catapult him into another coughing fit. “The same way it goes every time,” he finishes, slightly bitter. It brings a sour taste to his mouth to think about his previous failures. His previous embarrassments.

He’s jolted from his self-pity party when Scott’s fingers twitch over the nape of his neck, making his efforts to ignore how Scott’s hands are currently resting against the back of his neck null and void. His efforts to ignore how the hands reach far enough round that Scott could easily strangle him. Could simply wrap tight and squeeze the last drops of life from him. Scott would definitely benefit from it, numerous superficial injuries littering his body that he’d probably be relieved to get rid of.

But Scott doesn’t grip to his neck tighter, doesn’t shove him to the ground and crush his windpipe. His hands remain a heavy, almost comforting, weight at the back of his neck. Their faces are close like this, he realises belatedly, the intimacy of such a thing settling over him suddenly and heavily. Like a weighted blanket’s just been chucked on his head. He feels a little unbalanced by such a realisation, even as close to death’s door as he currently is.

It makes an odd feeling wash over him, only increasing as Scott moves his hands, fingers tickling the short furs at the back of his neck. Can feel the way Scott’s thumb brushes over his pulse point – stupid, doesn’t he know that the thumb has a pulse? That you can’t measure someone else’s heartbeat with your thumb, as your own racing heart will interfere?

Scott’s pinky fingers ghost over his jaw as his hands retreat, and tango almost makes a pitiful sound in the back of his throat when he thinks Scott’s pulling away from him.

He’s glad he didn’t (really, really glad) when Scott’s hands still again, settling over his jaw, cradling his face gently between his palms.

He really is quite close now, close enough that Tango can take in the smudged state of his make-up, like Scott’s been rubbing his eyes and smearing it around the corners of his eyes. Or that he’s not reapplied it recently and he’s simply been wearing the same make-up for the past few days.

He’d given up on the stupid pink eyeliner and little hearts he’d draw on his own and the others’ faces ages ago, tired of reapplying it every morning, wasting precious time that could be spent doing other things. More important things.

Scott’s make-up still looks good, though, smudged the way it is.

“I’ve always noticed when you died,” Scott tells him. This close, he can see the pink flecks in Scott’s eyes. They almost match the shirt he chose to wear for this go-around, wanting to fit better with the whole vibe they had going on at the Heart Foundation prior to its burning. “Kinda hard not to, when you're checking your comm every few minutes and hoping it’s not one of your allies that’s just died.”

“Oh,” he says, maybe a little dumbly. So sue him! He’s not sure what to say to a man very close to his face, still looking pretty despite his smudged make-up, when he gets told that he always notices him.

Yeah, some snide part of his brain comments, always notices when you make a fool of yourself and die in the most humiliating way possible.

“Oh,” Scott repeats, snickering a little. It makes his shoulders shake, meaning Tango’s face is wobbling a little because Scott’s still holding his face, cradling him carefully like he’s some delicate thing to be treasured.

Man, he’s glad Skizz hasn’t made a reappearance yet. He’s not sure how he’d explain his current everything to him with a straight face. Skizz would probably laugh at him until he cries.

“What else do you want me to say to that!” he protests, a little embarrassed at his slightly lacklustre response. “Thanks, I notice every time you die too – I'm always dead at that point! I can’t notice.”

“No, no,” Scott shakes his head, brushing one of his thumbs over the paper-thin skin beneath his eye. The motion makes him shiver, something weird, but not unfamiliar or unwelcome, curl down and around his spine. He shudders again. “I’m just teasing you, love, promise.” His eyes twinkle with mirth, “Would you believe me if I told you I came here with kind intentions?”

“Not at all,” Tango says, half-joking. “You’ve only been mean to me so far.”

“Aw, I'm hurt!” Scott cries, eyes crinkling as he grins. “I saw Skizz’s, uh, plea for help on your behalf and thought I might as well pop over and give you a little boost.”

“Oh, really?” He perks up at that. A few people have been by already, each giving him a small boost. To think he was in an even worse state as the sun rose that morning is somewhat horrifying to think about. It’s a miracle he even managed to have a coherent conversation with Skizz as their day began. “Well, c’mon then! Don't leave poor ol’ me waiting.”

“Okay, okay,” Scott laughs again, a little quieter. “God, you tell someone you're about to give them something, and it’s all they can think about.”

“All I can think about is how much pain I'm currently in,” Tango jokes.

He realises that the joke didn’t quite land as he intended when Scott’s face doesn’t continue to crease with smile lines, instead dropping into something sadder. “Well,” he says confidently, “I can fix that real quick for you, love.”

And then Scott’s leaning and Tango’s floundering, because, sure, he’s kissed people before. For definite. Kissed people plenty of times, actually! But he never quite knows what to do with his hands, nevermind the fact that he can barely even lift his hands right now.

Scott seems comfortable taking the initiative, giving him a chaste peck on the lips, warm hands continuing to cradle his face gently, before pulling back just as quickly as he’d moved in.

“There,” he says, sounding satisfied. “All better?”

“I – yeah. Thanks,” he manages. He mentally fist pumps when his voice doesn’t wobble and he doesn’t immediately chase after Scott with significantly less achy limbs than a few moments before. “That’s really appreciated, thank you.”

“Not a problem,” Scott says, wiping a little around his bottom lip, clearing away some of the smudged make-up there. “Always glad to help!” He chirps, then stands. “Well, I’ll be seeing you around, hopefully not at the other end of my sword!”

“Hopefully not,” Tango agrees. Really hopefully not because he’ll probably just stand there like an idiot and think about how soft Scott’s lips are, and the way they’d slotted against his own, and-

The clearing of a throat above him has him blinking his eyes open, squinting a little at the figure silhouetted by the sun.

“See you had a little visitor,” Skizz tells him, sounding far too smug for someone that probably only saw Scott walk away. Tango’s sheltered where he sits, so even if Skizz was on his way back while…all that happened, there’s no way he actually saw anything.

“I- what? Oh, Scott, yeah. He gave me a heart.”

“See he gave you a little something else, too.”

What?

“What?” He asks, sitting up slightly, hissing under his breath as his cracked ribs forcefully remind him that they're still cracked. “What d’you mean?”

“You got a little something,” Skizz says, “around here.”

And gestures around his mouth.

Tango wipes at his lip with his thumb, cringing when it comes away stained with make-up. Make-up that everyone has seen Scott wearing recently.

“Oh, wow, haha,” he laughs, not at all amused. “How’d that get there.”

“How indeed,” Skizz says, obviously already knowing, the dick. “Maybe we should ask the whole server, see if they can help us solve this mystery.”

“No!” Tango throws himself upwards as Skizz goes to retrieve his comm, smacking his hands away frantically. “No, no, I'm sure we can figure this out ourselves.”

“Oh, yeah. I'm sure we can.” Skizz says, and walks off. Still grinning.

Tango collapses back down to the ground, indulging his moment of dramatism even as it aggravates a few minor wounds.

Whatever shitty higher being watches over me now, he pleads, please strike me down before he comes back.

The shitty higher being watching over him decidedly does not strike him down, and Skizz comes back to laugh him again, though he brings a make-up wipe with him…maybe Tango can find it in his heart to forgive him. Eventually.

[sharffffff]

Ugh. His head still hurt from Gem sinking her sword into it, dealing a killing blow that likely wouldn’t be killing if it wasn’t for all the damage he took from his zombies. That was stupid.

“What was I even thinking? Going up against an army alone just because my gear is good and I have a stack of zombie eggs? That was stupid.” Joel got up from the bed, only to find himself at Etho’s bed shrine. Right. He forgot he set his spawn here. Awkward. And he was surrounded from all sides by the rest of survivors, who were a lot more successful in, well, surviving.

“Oh, hey guys, just gonna leave.” He quickly started moving away, hoping he wouldn’t attract much attention from these guys, as he was almost giggling by now from both the embarrassment, and, well…

“You’re right, that was stupid. And embarrassing. If it were me in your place, I simply would not die like that. And if I did, I would kill all these guys when I respawned.” Lizzie was leaning in on his shoulder, bloodlust but also laughter sparkling in her eyes as she was mocking her husband.

“Didn’t you die by forgetting to put on a pumpkin? Lizzie, you live in a pumpkin, that’s way more embarrassing than me trying to fight off the herd on my own! And I am still alive and you’re dead, so it’s clear that you’re the stupid one here. Okay, sorry, you’re not stupid, you’re lovely.” Joel stumbled in his words as he basically sprinted down the hill, almost scared that Lizzie would try to take control and make him attack everyone again. He wasn’t sure he could actually survive attacking the survivors.

“That’s right, I’m lovely, and you should listen to what I say because I’m smarter and wiser than you. And I say you should kill Scott. And everyone else for that matter. But Scott first. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t even need a pumpkin in the first place!” Joel could feel bloodlust radiating from Lizzie and, heck, why not, he wanted to indulge it. He was red now. He can murder whoever he wants, especially with the boogeyman curse going around. And murdering Scott is always a time well spent.

“Yeah, I like what you’re saying, Lizzie. Let’s go find and murder Scott, for everything he’s done to both of us. And then murder everyone else, just like you said!” His eyes shone red, and, as he finally got to the bottom of the hill, he sprinted towards other boogeys with a maniacal laughter, ready to wreak havoc on this server, since it desperately needed it.

————————————————

Still standing near the bed shrine, Cleo overheard most of Joel’s conversation with himself. He sounded cheerful, but there was a deep, underlying sadness to his voice, as he spoke to the nothingness of the night. From what they could hear, he was speaking to Lizzie, and had Cleo not known that he already failed his task, they would’ve almost assumed it was the same deal as Tango had with Torchy. But no, it wasn’t his task, it was him talking to his dead wife as if she was still here. As if they were bantering about life, about death and everything in between.

Cleo almost felt like they intruded, but Joel was not quiet in his conversation, and if it’s his way to cope with grief… Well, Cleo can’t do anything about this. Everyone grieves in their own way.

[neptoons1998]

Swinging Date

A/N:I'm back and I have stuff to post!

Summary: Miles and Margo go on their first kinda date.

Tag Gang: @pantherheart @mal-urameshi @misschivious @somethingcleaverandwhitty

Miles wasn’t sure how but he was able to get Margo to agree to see him. Cashing in the swing date as his uncle Aaron would say. Everything during the night was perfect, Margo had gotten close to him. She wanted to see how he used his ropes in order to swing; she also pointed out what he could improve on his ropes and new techniques when swinging. Miles would be lying if he said that he was actually listening to her, he was trying very hard but smelling the sweet lavender from some hair pouducts she probably use. Made the teen distracted, tonight he was going to be normal to a girl he had a crush on. It can’t be too hard. 

The was until they stop by a hotdog stand. 

“Ah,” Tony said as he whipped up some hotdogs for the teens, “I see you brought your girlfriend, Prowler.”

Instead of correcting the man, Miles quickly placed the money in the man’s hands. Too embarrass to say anything, he was glad that Margo was quick onher feet. 

“Yknow that guy?” Margo asked as the pair finally reached the tallest skyscraper. Miles felt the flusters of butterflies in his stomach with her question. 

“Oh, yeah that’s Tony,” Miles started, “He’s always weird.”

“Totally is,” Margo agreed before taking a bit of hotdog. The pair fell into a quiet silence, all Miles had to do was to shut up and eat his food. 

“I mean-Wouldn’t it be funny if we, uh, actually got together?” Miles voiced out causing Margo to give him a strange look. Shut up, Twisting the ends of one of his braids, “Not that it would ever happen, but just… You know.” Great now she’ll be uncomfortable now. 

“Yeah,” Margo said as she stared out of the city. The pair were pretty high up on Trade Center she  felt  the wind threading  into her hair. Miles perked up to her voice. The teen couldn’t help but stare at her. To anyone else, Margo would’ve had a problem with that, but with Miles. It made her feel like she wasn’t being judged. Just two teens, who happen to have a different persona at night. 

“Y’know, “ Margo sat down on the ground, “I thought for sure you would be mean and scary.”

Miles smirked. He couldn’t say he was shocked by this. That’s the personality he wanted to give off. Miles knew life was unfair and unkind at an earlier age than his peers. The only emotions he had besides being sad were.

Mean and scary.

Miles follows suit sitting down with her, “And now?”

“Now I think you’re a vast nerd,” Margo giggled. Miles gave a light shove on her causing the spider-woman to laugh even harder, “What it’s true plus it’s so cute. You with your toys.”

“They aren’t toys, “ Miles said, “They are action figures.”

Magro counited, “Toys because they came from the same company.”

“Hmm,” Miles bit downhis lip rying to stop himself from smiling at her, “What else do you know, since you know everything?”

Margo’s eyes sparked with happiness, she loved when she could tease someone who can handle her quick wit. Spider-woman came closer to him, Miles started to fear that she could hear his heart beating.

“I know that I like you,” Margo whispered out, “And you’re taking FOR-EVER to make the first move.”

Miles could feel the heat flaming on his cheeks. Making him glad for his dark complexion, “D-do you want to go the movies then?”

Margo couldn’t help but smile at him, “You’re so cute.”

“Cute?” Miles repeated not sure of he liked being called that. The only person who was allowed to was his mom.

“Yes cute,” Margo as she stood up to stand. She pressed a couple of buttons before the portal appeared, “How does seven sound?”

“Works for me, Cieltio,” Miles said as he watched her walk away. When he was sure he was by himself, he pumped his fist, “She likes me.”

[sparxwrites]

"Play Your Part", director's cut edition

[original fic]

“I killed him,” says Grian, as Scar comes up behind him. He’s staring down at Bigb’s grave – at the improvised headstone, the wilting flowers, the little handful of sand poured on top of it like an offering. He doesn’t look sad, exactly. A bit regretful, maybe. But mostly just confused, as though this wasn’t inevitably what happened when you dropped rocks on people’s head at close range. 

As though this wasn’t always where they were heading – a red life, a shallow grave, and no remorse.

Scar is back on his I know how stories work bullshit. In my head, he’s always like… a weird combination of superior, because he can manipulate stories like no one else can, and bewildered, because it’s so obvious, guys. It’s so obvious where they’ve been heading, to him. He’s been able to see it since the story first hooked into them, locked into its course. Right now, though, I think he’s mostly just bitter.

“Yes,” says Scar, cold and unkind. He stops a few feet from Grian, and makes no move to come closer. No move to reach out and offer comfort. “You did.”

Like I said! Bitter. And he’s hiding it so well. :)

“He was my secret soulmate,” says Grian. He sounds lost, a little. He looks up from the fresh-turned earth, dark eyes drawn to Scar’s red ones. “What am I supposed to do now?”

Grian… not so good at stories. He’s above all that. He’s clever enough to do what he wants! He’s got agency! (This is deeply sarcastic, btw.) Which means he’s bewildered, each and every time, when the narrative bonks him over the head with a tragedy he’s very obviously (to others who know stories, i.e. Scar) locked himself into from the start.

Scar closes his eyes for a moment, and breathes through the red thump thump thump of his heart. He’s gritting his teeth so hard he can feel his pulse in his molars. 

Red because hearts are red, blood is red. Red because the red mist descending as a metaphor for uncontrollable anger. Red for red life.

“You play your part,” he says, and though he aims for cruel, he mostly hits tired. “I’m your soulmate. Not him. And now he’s dead, and we’re not, and the story must go on. So. We’re both red. We’re in love. We kill people. We play the game, together. That’s what we do.”

This is Scar admitting a lot of stuff semi-unintentionally, under the guise of educating Grian about what the server’s story is. We’re in love is especially sharp, though I doubt Grian catches it – it implies that they’re not really in love (or at least, one of them (Grian) isn’t), they’re just play acting it for the sake of the narrative. It’s also an indication that this narrative is a strong one, a big one. Stuff like friendship points is a small narrative. Sure, it hooks people in, but it isn’t all that binding. Scar can weaponise it. But this one… this one is too big, too hungry, too off-the-leash, for him to have any hope of that. Because Grian started this one, and Grian always lets his stories get out of control. So now the only way to survive is to play the game.

“But–”

“You play your part, Grian.” Scar’s voice is flat, unyielding, and brooks no argument.

Grian, as always, brooks one regardless. He sets his jaw, juts his chin out like a stubborn child. The motion is so endearing, so familiar, it makes Scar’s cold chest ache. “What if I don’t want to?”

Agency is throwing a temper tantrum when fate pulls the trigger on that Chekov’s gun you left lying on the kitchen table in plain sight, according to Grian. According to Scar, that’s called being a dumb fucking idiot. You don’t leave a gun on the table and then get surprised when someone picks it up and shoots it. Especially not in a server that’s been taught to love death.

“You think Pearl wants to be crazy?” snaps Scar, the tiredness burning away into irritation. “You think Scott wants to hate her? You think Martyn and Cleo want to do whatever the hell it is they’re doing? You think Impulse really loves Bdubs?” He pauses, his eyes hard. “You think I really love you?” Grian flinches. Scar presses on. “No. But we’ve all got our roles to play, and we’re playing them, because that’s how this works. There’s a story to be told, here, and I for one want it over, as soon as damn well possible. And so, just like everyone else on this godsforsaken server other than you, I’m playing my part.”

This… is a little bit my headcanon for the Life smps (other than ‘fun murder holiday’, which is my Other headcanon for the Life smps). That like… I touched a bit on this in Battle Plans, but this idea that the Hermits are being dragged into this, and they’re terrified of it, and they’re pissed off with it, and they’re doing their best to just make it stop. There’s a very real sense I was trying to get across of them being puppets on a string here, where they’re all miserable and scared and feel like they’re being forced to dance for someone else’s entertainment.

“I swore– Scar, you know I swore I’d never– I wouldn’t let Them control me again–”

Trauma? About the Watchers? From Grian? :) Nah, couldn’t be. No idea what you’re talking about.

“For once in your life, listen to me,” snaps Scar, grabbing Grian by the front of his jumper. Grian’s staring like he’s never seen Scar before – and maybe he hasn’t, not like this. Not cold with anger, cruel with frustration, face blank and eyes dead. “There is a narrative loose on this server and, one way or another it’s going to eat us all alive. Now– we can either get it over and done with, as quick as we can. Or, we can fight it, and lose, and drag the whole goddamn thing out for no goddamn reason. And we have all, collectively, picked option one – other than you. So.” He shakes Grian, hard enough to half-lift him off the ground. Hard enough he sways where he stands, held up only by Scar’s fist curled tight in his clothing. “Play. Your. Part, Grian.”

(John Mulaney voice) There's a narrative LOOSE on the SERVER. But also, more seriously, a) me back on my narrative bullshit again, and b) this is Scar being like. the server has collectively given up. What he's describing is functionally everyone on the server collectively committing indirect suicide, which is horrific.

Grian gulps. Swallows. Nods, tersely. 

Scar lets him go. Raises an eyebrow. When he crosses his arms over his bare, scarred chest, his fingers dig bruises into his own biceps.

“Yeah. Okay,” says Grian, tight and miserable. “Fine. I’ll play the stupid bloody game. Fine.”

“Okay, what?” says Scar, and wishes the victory felt less hollow.

Scar’s just being nasty and vindictive now. This has nothing to do with narratives, and everything to do with punishing Grian for his infidelity.

“Okay, beloved.” The endearment sounds like a razor blade in Grian’s mouth.

Two can play at that game.

Scar swallows bile. For a second, the ice in his eyes cracks. There’s heat beneath the surface, a raging, howling fire somewhere just below the cold. Then it’s gone. The ice returns.

Literally no one is fucking happy about this. They’re both mad at each other for dumb bullshit reasons because they’re toxic and dysfunctional and don’t fucking talk to one another and are madly in love without ever actually telling the other person explicitly and therefore both dealing with ‘unrequited’ love in the worst and stupidest way possible here. Guys. C’mon. You could fix this with a lil bit of talk therapy, I swear to god.

“Good,” he says, with a bright smile, and takes Grian’s hand. Pulls him away from the grave. Grian lets him, his fingers cold, his grip slack in Scar’s. “Because, no matter what – the show must go on.”

He’s not really talking about the narrative here, any more. I mean, he is. But mostly he’s talking to himself. Chin up, Scar. Mask affixed. Don’t let them see you hurting.

[deviant-nomad]

re: Fleabag's ending, the relationship w/ the Priest

Fleabag admitting that she’s in love with the Priest was a huge leap forward for her after spending the last few years in meaningless, sex-focused relationships and one-night stands. Finally, Fleabag is opening up and allowing someone into her life, thus, her reliance on fourth wall breaks is no longer needed. She doesn’t need to confide in the audience anymore, shaking her head to tell us that this is where she leaves us. Fleabag waves goodbye and walks away, moving on with her life, tackling her grief head-on, rather than hiding from it with artificial relationships and rebellious acts. while both Fleabag and the Priest have a long way to go, they’re moving forward. The Priest will continue to question his celibacy, but for now, he’s content with that, while Fleabag leaves her days of rebellion behind in order to focus on herself and be honest with her emotions. (x)

Her intimacy with us is also a way of distancing herself from anyone who could actually speak back to her. ... unhappy dissociative Fleabag is also our Fleabag, the person who gives us her life wrapped up in a self-deprecating, wildly charming bow. When The Priest breaks up with Fleabag, there’s a chance that we can get our relationship with her back. Once again she’ll be intimate with us. Fleabag makes the other choice. Rather than turning to the camera once again and cracking a joke about her devastation, she walks away. She shakes her head, telling us that we cannot follow her, and gives us a sad, resigned, hopeful little wave as she walks away. She ends the story she’s been telling us while also turning toward her own life, her own family, her own relationships with people who can speak back to her. It’s why the ending is such a perfect conclusion to the series, and why it also feels so crushing. (x)

“I think what’s really moving is the actual declaration and using the word love, whatever the consequences. Sometimes our love isn’t enough. There are more ingredients involved to tell a love story.” - Andrew Scott not all love stories are romantic. “There are so many love stories. There’s so many different versions of what love looks like in this, and I think that’s why it speaks to so many people.” As for Claire, she found romance in an unexpected place — at work with Klare, the Finnish man whose, yes, name sounds like her own. ... It’s only when she hears the Priest’s words, that love is awful but that it’s about hope, that she determines to chase after Klare, who is flying back home. ... I think that’s really important that we know that we have that power to make changes, and it’s not to say it’s easy, but we can do it. I think it’s really important for women especially, to know that we can walk away from those situations.” Waller-Bridge has repeatedly said the show is done. Clifford agrees that the series has gone out on the best possible note. “I could have never anticipated how she was going to tie all the ends up, and I don’t think they are all tied up. I’m okay with that because life is messy,” said Clifford. “I think it’s like a poem, and I think the story is complete. I think it’s an ending but it’s filled with so much hope. It’s perfect.” (x)

Having now recognised the capacity for love (which her father points her, and us, to shortly before she articulates it to The Priest), we are allowed to hope that somewhere, somewhen Fleabag finds an appropriate and reciprocated object of her refreshed affections. ... We each get to write the rest of the tale and play out the happy-ever-afters or the doomed cyclical destruction that sits best within our own personal narrative. That’s art. ... It made sense that she said goodbye to the audience/god/whoever because she had already outgrown it. The first series we were the confidante and/or depository for her guilt and self-loathing. There was little for her to unload this series because, in part, she was learning how to connect with someone else again. ... There could have been no other resolution. It was clear that Fleabag had had a life experience, in the love affair with The Priest, which had enriched her, brought her pain and happiness but also – as was made expressly clear by The Priest – hope. (x)

[obxradio]

Scott Street - Rafe Cameron

Based on the song, Scott Street by Phoebe Bridgers

Summary: It’s been so long since you and Rafe have seen each other you are both at a cross roads in life. Can the past rewrite the future?

Author’s Note: This is my first time writing something like this, go easy on me.

You couldn't tell if being back in the Outer Banks felt comforting or just plain sad. Here you were going on thirty, and staying with your parents to ease the pain of the life you left behind you. You drank your beer in a ponder until you heard a voice you hadn't heard since you were eighteen. 

“(y/n), (y/n/y/l/n)?” You became a deer in the headlights almost imediately as you recognized the voice that snapped you out of your thoughts.”Rafe, Rafe Cameron Hi how are you?” you said shakily trying to keep your composure. “I’m doing well, wow I haven't seen you since you left for college, mind if I sit?” Truth was you did mind, not because you didn't want to see the man who you had loved all those years ago, but because you dreaded the near future of him asking what you had been up to all this time. “No I don't mind” you said and you hoped your tone sounded less mortifying.

He sat down right beside you and told the bartender to “get me whatever she’s having.” He looked the same, short hair and crows feet starting to form next to his eyes, he still looked perfect, there was no denying that. “So (y/n) what have you been up to all this time. “well” you started choosing to just come out and say it “I graduated from Chapel Hill a few years ago, moved to Raleigh finished law school, passed the bar, became partner at a firm, you know nothing to write home about”, you giggled. Rafe laughed too. “So you did everything you said you would, you never did lie (y/n/n)”. You smiled at him but it quickly went away. “So how are Wheezie and Sarah?  my mom mentioned Wheezie just graduated High School.” you started, “Oh yeah Wheeze is headed off to your alma mater which my dad would have loved, and Sarah and John B settled down, finally”. “Now that makes me feel old” you laughed. “What does that make me?” Rafe questioned playfully.

“What about Topper and Kelce? Whatever became of your henchman?” you asked. “Funny enough they're both getting married.” Rafe said and you nodded. “So, you just visiting..” Rafe asked. “For now” you started “I left my job now im just trying to put my life back together, im staying with my parents as embarrassing as that is to admit” you said. “Nothing embarrassing about that, sometimes you have to just find you way back, you always were great about that.” he said. “So what about you?” you asked. “I took over the companies my dad left me it's a lot but I have more respect for him now than I ever did before, its not easy, I won't bore you with the details.” rafe said. “So, anyone special in your life?” there it was, the dreaded question. “No,” you started “Well there was, but he ended it. He left me.” You said feeling the tears well-up. You sipped your beer to try and hide it. But you forgot how well Rafe knew you. I mean he was your first love, your first everything.

“What about you?” “Who is the Mrs. Cameron everyone wondered about?” you asked to try and change the subject. “I guess she’s still out there.” He said smiling at you. You didn't know why but this glance he had on you felt different like a longing glance only you didn't know why. All those years ago it was Rafe who ended it. He phrased it as he loved you so much, he had to let you go, and if you ever came back again maybe there would still be hope. You hated the sentiment at the time, it made you want to hurl. But you also understood, you knew if you two had stayed together you would never have accomplished your dream. Only your dream back then also involved Rafe.

“Whoever he is, he’s and idiot.” Rafe said knocking you out of your thoughts. “I am convinced no one is or ever will be as great as you are.” Rafe said. He meant it. “It’s ok rafe, you don't have to comfort me, its been so long, and I’m sure that's not what you came to this bar to do.” You said looking at him. “No, but it was quite the surprise” Rafe told you looking at you. “Well, I should probably get home, I’m 28, and I still think my mom is waiting up for me.” You said. “Well let me at least drive you home.” Rafe suggested. “Ok.” you said. “You got into his truck, the same one as all those years ago. For someone with so much money you were surprised he didn't drive a brand new porshe. “Hey I know what your thinking.” rafe said snapping you out of your thoughts. “I just couldn't part with her, too many memories.” rafe said looking from the truck to you as he said it.

As you drove the radio played quietly in the background. You felt a tear slip down your cheek. Rafe noticed. He grabbed your hand and you let him. It was less of a romantic gesture, and more of a sign of comfort. He knew you, what you needed even if you didn't ask. As he drove he couldn't help but think that all those years he waited for you to come back home had finally been worth it. You didn't realize that when he said “Mrs. Cameron is still out there” he really meant that she was sitting right next to him. 

As he approached your house on Scott Street, he slowed down and parked to let you out. You hugged him goodbye. As you got out, before you could shut the door, he simply said “(y/n/n) don't be a stranger.” You smiled, a real smile for the first time in awhile and went inside.

[insomniaruler]

Someone was in Shrubs forest.

She could sense their presence, they knew how to move in the forest with quick and light feet she also heard the sound of a weapon hanging from a belt. It was a bow and she could hear the arrows rattling in a hip quiver. They were humming something softly. Mother wolf sensed then too so with a quick glance they took off quickly towards the sounds.

They were a man in causal wear. Hidden in the trees around the clearing she saw the man’s green highlight but what really caught her eye was the crystal strung around his neck, it was black and shattered like someone had brought a hammer down on the gem, it reminded Shrub of something. Perhaps one of her allies had a gem similar? He was resting against a tree a small lunch laid out in front of him. When a wolf came out of the forest behind him Shrub tensed and expected a fight to save the wolfs life but the man just smiled almost sadly.

“Hello there, it’s been awhile since I’ve been recognized be one of you.” He laughed as the wolf flopped down at his feet. Shrub blinked looking over at Mother wolf incredulously. Then another wolf and another soon a whole pack had came out of the woods and sat around and laid on the man. He smiled softly at the creatures. “Well it’s just like old times.” And he began to pet one of the wolves.

“You don’t have t’ stay back there forever you know, I have some extra food, I’m happy to share.” Shrub tensed, how could he see her? Turning to look at mother wolf for some advice Shrub saw her loyal Dire-wolf begin to step out of the forest. Trusting the wolfs judgement she stepped out to. “Hello stranger.” Shrub said, fingering her arrows. “Hello short stack.” The man said, holding out an apple to her. “I have bread if you don’t want apple.” The guy shrugged. “Thank you?” Shrub said confused but taking the apple.

“No problem o’ tiny.” The man laughed as one of the wolves rolled over and tried to steal a slice of mutton from his hand. “Here you go- fine but don’t get any ideas all you-“ but all the wolves were looking at him expectantly. “No.” He said holding the meat away from them. “Fine but no more, it’ll dull you hunting instincts.” The man said giving a strip of meat to each wolf.

“Ahem, what are you doing in my forest stranger?” Shrub said, watching as the wolves scarfed down the meat. “You don’t recognize me?” The man asked tilting his head. “I don’t.” Shrub said rolling her eyes. “Oh I don’t think we’ve met either. Sorry ‘bout that. Joel, king of Mezaila. Just call me joel though.” Joel said holding out a hand. “No we’ve met I just don’t recognize you without your regular clothes.” Shrub said embarrassed.

“Oh yeah cool, I’m just out here because the mesa believe it or not his really hot and humid in the summer.” Joel said feigning fainting. “Oh that’s cool, I love the forest because of that.” Shrub said smiling. “Why do wolves like you?” Shrub asked. Joel’s smile flickered and Shrub felt bad for making the man sad.

“That’s a rough question itty bitty” “you don’t have to answer or anything-“ “no it’s fine. It’s fine.” Joel said also looking embarrassed. “It was a game, there were 14 of us and we each had three lives. On our last life we were actively hostile. I allied with around 15 wolves because I had burned all my human alliances.” Joel said chuckling ruefully. “I died for the last time in the last big battle, I don’t know what happened to my dogs I hope they’re okay, maybe Scott took them in, he always had a soft spot for animals, I mean he loved Jimmy…” Joel started trailing off in his thoughts before snapping back to the story at hand. “And I woke up here, i was the teenage king of Mezaila. I love Mezalia, but I miss my cabin, my wolves and the forest.” Joel shrugged as he rubbed a wolves stomach.

Shrub looked at the man and then at the gem around his neck and she knew where she had seen a gem like that. In her first meeting with Scott the crystal was on a chain, she had gotten a glimpse of it before he tucked it into his shirt.

“Well, we both like wolves and I’m kinda desperate for some new allies Scott’s gone, Joey’s won’t talk about anything except his ex, Fwhip is being Fwhip…” Shrub shrugged. “Well I’m always happy to have new allies.” Joel said smiling broadly, it seemed his canines were elongated, similar to shrubs when she took on the mantle of wolf spirit. “Well I guess I have to be Sirius…” and Joel pulled his crown out of his pack. “I, Joel of Mezaila formally ally with Shrub of the UnderGrove.” Joel said holding out a hand. “Oh okay… I, Shrub of the Undergrove formally ally with Joel of Mezaila.” And they shook on it.

“See you around wolf spirit.” Joel yelled after her as she left to go home. It seemed Joel was camping in the forest that night. Subconsciously Shrub sent more Wolves to Joel.

[kitkatwinchester]

OMG I'VE MISSED MY BOYS!! <3 <3

STILES'S AND ISAAC'S BANTER I CANNOT!! XD XD <3 <3

"I'm just saying--" "Isaac we are not going to torture her." "I meant scare her." "We are not going to psychologically torture her either!"

"Listen to the sounds around you." "Yep. Listen to the sounds around you." "Listen to the silence." "Just listening to the silence." "Okay, will you just let me handle this, Isaac? Please? I just, I have more experience with Banshees." "Yeah, and mental patients." *glares*

And let's not forget Stiles trying to explain away their situation by calling Meredith his girlfriend, only to have her call Isaac her type instead. ("Okay...Isaac can come too.") XD XD XD

I FREAKING LOVE THEM SO MUCH!! I HAVE MISSED THIS!!

I know that Daniel Sharman leaves the show after this season and I'm so sad about it, because I love him and his character so much and I'm really gonna miss him, but as long as they don't kill him (which I'm pretty sure they don't), it's okay I guess. But I am gonna miss him a LOT. Especially in moments like these lol.

That said, speaking of people who are gonna die...

One of the Argents is gonna die. Calling it right now. Allison and her dad just had a really sweet bonding moment, and she just told him she loves him, and is proud of him, and is "proud of us".

Which 100% means one of them is gonna die.

And you know what? I bet it's gonna be Allison.

I bet they're gonna kill Allison.

Which is ALL KINDS OF MESSED UP, but WHAT THE F*CK EVER I GUESS.

It hasn't happened yet, so I could be wrong, but I don't think I am.

Anyways, I'm gonna move on from that.

Can we talk about that scene between Scott and his dad?

I am so freaking glad that Rafael finally told him, and while I do think that Rafael has had SOME redemption from everything he's been doing--ESPECIALLY saving Noah's job--I totally understand why Scott went off on him, and I am honestly all here for it.

Because as far as Scott is concerned, the fact that his dad just up and left him and never came back into his life until now is a lot worse than a fall down the stairs. And I totally get where he's coming from.

I also totally understand why Melissa wanted him out of the house, and I understand why Void Stiles was trying to convince her that Scott would hate her for what happened, but he never would, because ultimately, it was still Rafael's decision to never be in his son's life, and that's on him, not on Melissa. Besides, Scott could never be mad at his mom, because she's literally one of the best moms in the world, and she's always been there for him, no matter what, and that type of love and loyalty matters to Scott more than anything else.

So I appreciate that Rafael finally came clean, but I also appreciate that Scott didn't forgive him, because I think that's justified. And that was a great freaking scene.

And now we have more answers, and we have even more of a team, and we can go save Lydia, and hopefully Noshiko won't somehow screw all of that up with whatever the h*ll she's planning to do next.

Let's go save Lydia.

(I JUST LOVE THESE TWO SO MUCH!! Scott has such great brothers. XD <3)

P.S. We also f*cking love Coach trusting his students and tasing the f*ck out of Brunski so that they could get Meredith out of there. I love him. We're getting a lot of Coach love this episode. I approve. <3

[denimbex1986]

'All of Us Strangers , about two men who find each other in a London apartment block, is one of the most melancholic, dreamy love films of the year. A journey through time like you have never made before.

****

All of us strangers, the magical new film by Andrew Haigh, is a novel adaptation for which the Brit sought inspiration in his youth and in which he places the story under a bell jar of melancholy. With 45 years and Weekend , Haigh previously proved his talent for sensitive relationship portraits.

Not that the two gentlemen in question here are already a couple when we meet them. Adam (Andrew Scott, known as ' hot priest ' from Fleabag ) is a screenwriter who lives alone in an anonymous high-rise in London. Somewhere along the way he got stuck in life. Neighbor Harry ( Normal People actor Paul Mescal) shows up at his door in a drunken state. He noticed Adam before. Now he wants to spend the night with him.

Adam will not be released from his isolation anytime soon. But when the two meet again, the forty-something will give in to the advances of that beautiful, much younger god.

This physical exploration comes into focus, and just as carefully they discover each other's emotional world. Adam was only 11 when he lost both his parents in an accident. It is a trauma that he prefers to wave away. “Ah, a long time ago.” Harry: “I don't think that makes a difference.”

When Adam returns to the house he grew up in, the early love story turns into a poetic ghost story. He meets his parents (Claire Foy and Jamie Bell) at the age they were shortly before disaster struck - they are almost the same age as Adam is today.

In order to move forward again, you sometimes have to go back for a while. All of us strangers meanders between mourning and melancholy, comfort and depression. Also between two generations of men and how they view their sexual orientation – one calls themselves gay, the other queer. Adam moves from one era into another and that happens without any artifice. By presenting it so simply, there is less chance that the viewer will stumble along the way, the filmmaker must have thought.

Haigh immerses you in the eighties. He enlists the help of Pet Shop Boys and Frankie goes to Hollywood, who give the film a catchy sound. This approach also prevents the film from wallowing in heavy sadness and loss.

The atmosphere is fragile and melancholy, the two actors are heart-conqueringly sincere and make All of Us Strangers a moving search for comfort and connection. In passing, Haigh hands out packages of hope: you are not alone. People spread the news.'

[wyattvsmusic]

Kid Cudi - Entergalactic ALBUM REVIEW

Aside from his amazing career, the biggest thing I took away from Kid Cudi’s A Man Named Scott documentary was that he said that he is done making sad music. Over his very long career, Kid Cudi has been known for making some of the best depressing music of all time that has impacted generations of people who have gone through periods of depression, anxiety, and loneliness with music that talked about his own mental struggles, helping break down the stigmas of toxic masculinity of the time and normalizing mental health conversations that were not being had at the time he started. His last album, 2020′s Man On The Moon III: The Chosen showed Cudi zoning in on those same topics but from a more hopeless lens that made it seem like his most positive album compared to Speedin’ Bullet 2 Heaven and Passion, Pain & Demon Slayin’. Musically, he rapped significantly more on that album and started to show how he has been influenced by the younger generation of rappers he helped shape. Before MOTM3 was announced, Kid Cudi had hinted at an album that also served as a soundtrack to an animated Netflix series of the same name, which is this new album, Entergalactic which is inspired by his song Enter Galactic (Love Connection) from his first album. After listening to the album and watching the Netflix special, the inspiration from the song is very clear as the song is a love song and the new album and series are quite romantic. The show is about Cudi’s character falling in love with his neighbor in a building he just moved into while also aspiring to become a successful artist. Though the plot may be very simple and predictable, it’s a sweet love story with incredible animation and an impressive cast that is perfectly complimented by its love song-filled soundtrack. Because this is Wyatt vs. Music and not Wyatt vs. TV, this review is strictly about the album but because the album is meant to compliment the show, there is going to be overlap. The content of the music is not surprising given the plot and Kid Cudi has also made many amazing love songs before. I like how it starts with New Mode and how Kid Cudi is finally ready to be more positive and hopeful in his music and he doubles down on that with the album’s following track, Do What I Want which is an enjoyable song about being free to move how he wants and have fun with his friends. The next 4 songs are all about falling in love, whether it’s singing about the feeling of love at first sight (Angel) or about wanting to commit to a relationship with a love interest (Willing To Trust). Ty Dolla $ign, who also stars in the show sounds amazing on Willing To Trust and also sounds good on Can’t Shake Her. He’s always been a feature killer and he sounds best over this kind of production. While there is little variety on this album in terms of content, it doesn’t totally kill the album considering the entire album is made to go along with a show that is about one story. However, there still are some more upbeat songs that are less romantic, including the more rap-heavy Can’t Believe It with 2 Chainz and the festival-ready Burrow with Don Toliver, Steve Aoki, and Dot Da Genius which could’ve sounded comfortable on Man On The Moon III. Can’t Believe It especially sounds great in the tracklist as it breaks up the pace of the album nicely so the listener doesn’t get too tired of the sound, which wasn’t a problem for me but I also like a little variety. That song also has one of the more interesting beats as the thing that holds the replay value of this album back is the variety in production. I think the production is good and that it works great for the soundtrack aspect but it simply could’ve been stronger. I think Kid Cudi sounds great, whether he is rapping, singing, or humming. I liked Entergalactic on first listen but watching the show on Netflix made me really like the album a lot more as it really brings you into a visually-appealing world that brings out real emotions in animated characters which isn’t easy to do. After this album and most recent tour that Kid Cudi has been on, he has said that he wants to stop making albums, which is disappointing but understandable. If this is his last album which I am almost 100% sure it won’t be, it’s far from his best work but it is a strong way to go out because it was such an ambitious way to package an album and animated series together but both are very good so it doesn’t feel as sad. 

Fav Tracks: Do What I Want, Angel, Willing To Trust, Can’t Believe It, Livin My Truth, She’s Lookin For Me

[hsmithmovingimage]

Into the Circle

Scott Faris and Meg Griffiths 2021

This film is a short documentary about the history of an indigenous family and about their journey of teaching the next generation about their history. The setting is set in the present, where young boy Andrew is attending a school called NACA (Native American Community Academy) in New Mexico. The opening scene shows bulls, also setting the scene and then moves to shots from a family birthday, setting the vibe to be family-oriented.

The most important sequence and 'plot' is about Andrew attending this school and learning about his culture and his history. The family interviewed talked a lot about their daily rituals and what life is like for them as a family who is proud of their culture and incorporates it into everyday life. Through the film we see Andrew graduate from NACA, unfortunately, he graduated at the time of Covid so the footage we see of this time is home videos from Andrew and his family. The film ends with the narration telling us what Andrew is up to on the most recent day about his future plans with College and we see him driving around in his new truck - ends with hope for Andrew. The film also ends by introducing us to a younger girl in the family Julia who is just starting out at NACA which also gives us hope at the end.

There are a few different narrators in this film, the main one being Andrew talking about his journey, but also his family talking about the history and how things are in life now. We also get interviews from people working at NACA talking about the school and their values etc. The main point of view is from Andrew and is told in the first person 'I' pov.

The main theme of this film is about embracing your culture and your heritage, not shying away from it and doing what you can to preserve it.

Most of the music is quite chill background music that has a sadder vibe to it when talking about their history and how they've never felt like they belonged and Andrew's childhood which wasn't great. The music feels a bit more uplifting when you get into the scenes about NACA and Andrew's graduation etc. There are also a lot of ambient sounds when they're showing their everyday rituals, but the main sound is the narration from the interviews.

In this film, there is a mix of long shots of the landscapes with a lot of mid shots documenting the family. There are also close up shots of the family in certain scenes. The interviews are all straight on but there are also some low angles looking up at the subjects giving them power when they're doing things, gives a vibe of them taking back their culture and embracing it eg. the shot when the Aunty is tying feathers in the younger girls hair.

The lighting is very warm for the majority of the film, it sets the mood to be uplifting and the family seem very close and comfortable with each other, it seems like a very inviting atmosphere which the lighting reflects. The opening seemed colder as this was when they talked about the not so good history and before the story got inspiring with Andrew.

There is a small pattern in the way the movie is cut, introducing different people and showing their interviews and cutting to what they're talking about and every now and again cutting back to Andrew's interview in between everyone else. The pace and tempo of this film is great, starts quite sad and then gets lifted with the intro of Andrew and then Covid brings it down again but it gets brought back up about Andrew's future in College and the future for youngster Julia, too. It also has a nice even feel of interviews and B roll.

As a whole, this film tells an inspiring story of a beautiful family embracing their culture and teaching younger generations not to be ashamed of their culture and it also teaches viewers a little bit about Native Americans which is important.

Analysis done by Hayley

[macabrecake]

𝘋𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴

➛ Pairing: RE6! Leon S. Kennedy x Female! Reader

➛ Genre: Smut with a nice helping of fluff

➛ Rating: Mature

➛ Note: Ok so it's a fact that I am an absolute SLUT when it comes to RE6 Leon. If you didn't know that already then you're gonna learn now, this is basically just pure self-indulgence. Also, first smut writing! May be too obvious so be warned- I tried. Enjoy!

(And of course. For the love of God- MINORS DO NOT INTERACT OR I WILL TELL YOUR PARENTS. GO PLAY OUTSIDE, THE ADULTS ARE TALKING.)

Leon Scott Kennedy knew he was capable of pulling off certain appearances. Not in a vain way of course, but more so in a sense where he could stare into a mirror and just think- 'Yeah, that looks pretty good.' He never realized however...

What kind of power he had over you.

Especially when he wore clothes that accentuated certain attributes. Like how vests really compliment his shoulders for example. It's definitely something for his ego to feed on from time to time, and satisfy his curiosity. It's also just an excuse for him to see you like this. Completely bare and oh so needy for him. The skin of your neck, currently bouncing breasts, and collarbone covered in pretty shades of red, purple, and pink.

Tear filled eyes, hazy and staring at him with a silent plea that your lips couldn't give without biting back all the moans and cries of his name. Mixing together with the hot squelching sounds of his dick slamming back in and stretching you so good your mind was lost. A beautiful piece of art he would say.

"Ah! Leon! T-Too much!" You manage to whine out when he delivers another slow but rough thrust into your sopping, wet cunt. Legs already shaking from three previous releases and already so full of his cum. Damn the stamina on this man. You're absolutely spent but unable to get away from the bruising grip he had on your soft hips, trapping you there. Now he was deciding to be a little mean to you- Keeping that slow rhythm going while one hand sneaks away to let his fingers expertly toy and massage your swollen clit. Never enough to give you a proper orgasm but just the right amount to keep you suspended on that heavenly little thread.

It had you practically wailing before clasping a hand over your mouth to be quiet as your gaze soon ends up shying away from him. You couldn't help yourself, the way he deeply groans and pants while those sterling blue eyes stared down at you with such intense hunger as he towers over your small frame. Leaving you utterly helpless and completely at his mercy. You're always so shy, even in the comfort of your shared bedroom. He finds it endearing and has ended up turning it into a small game with himself to make you loud just so he can listen to you. He wants to hear you.

A low breathy chuckle resonates from the agent as he leans down to gently bump his nose with yours, hand moving away from your little bud to uncover your mouth, "I'm sorry Sweetheart, did you say something? Don't think I heard you that time." He whispers teasingly, flashing a smug smile when he sees your head fall back with a sigh from him hitting a particularly delicate spot inside you. "Leon, ah! Please... Mmh- need you." You quietly beg when your own eyes find his again. You're so desperate, gripping his shoulder and even holding onto his tie in a feeble attempt to keep yourself grounded. It's plain to see however, the way his gaze holds that mischievous glimmer, you're not gonna get it that easily.

"I know baby, I'll give you what you want. But you haven't even complimented my new outfit yet." Leon speaks huskily, a light mockery of sadness in his tone but a cheeky little smirk now adorning his handsome features. Because of fucking course he's not quite done teasing you just yet. "Mmh- fuck! So good! Ah... S-Sexy." You whimper. There it is, Leon let's out a thoughtful hum while his eyes gleefully take in your flustered state. Before finally deciding that you've been teased long enough, and that maybe he was starting to get a little impatient as well. Moving to lightly place his lips on your neck, feeling your pulse flutter, as he growls into the flesh. "You're sexier."

Suddenly, all of Leon's restraint is gone. His arms move to coil around your waist to keep you as close to him as possible while he drills his heavy cock into you at an animalistic pace. You cry out with a hitched gasp and immediately cling to him as if your life depends on it. That sultry voice of his, strained with need, soon finds your ears after he lightly nips at one of them. "Always so nice and tight... Fuck, baby... Such a good girl for me, aren't you?"

God, the way those words drip from his plush lips like sinful honey. How could such a devilish tongue like that belong to the most angelic face? It's almost blasphemous. He knows what praise does to you too- feels it in how you lightly shudder as your warm, squishy walls tighten around him more. You're so close. Quiet squeals tumble from your lips, trying to find some sense of speech again to tell him you're not gonna last much longer, "Mh! Leon please, I- ah! I c-can't!" The response you get is another soft laugh while he moves to rest his forehead against yours, then a whisper.

"Open your eyes Sunshine.~"

Slowly, your eyes flutter open. Finding Leon already peering back at you, gaze full of nothing but pure lust and adoration. "Gonna cum for me?" He asks, tone still hushed, causing you to frantically nod. And seeing how sloppy his thrusts were getting, he's not that far behind you either. Thick fingers snake down to your, consensually, abused little pearl where he begins to quickly rub it in circular motions. "Do it baby..." Leon snarls, "Make a mess."

With how his voice dances down your spine to light up every nerve ending like electricity, and the quickened rough ministrations he adds. It does the trick. You're instantly cumming hard around him with a cry of his name as if it's the only word you ever learned. Finally with a few more powerful thrusts, and simply watching you blissfully fall to pieces for only his eyes alone to see. Leon allows himself to give into his own high as he buries his cock deep within you, letting out a groan of satisfaction against the skin of your neck while his thick creamy ropes fill you up and over the brim. A soft whine escapes your lips, completely stuffed now.

After that, a warm comfortable silence settles amongst your shared quiet panting. Both of you slowly coming down from your high, only to find Leon peppering your face with light kisses before planting one on your lips. Being so gentle as if you were made of the most fragile glass. Like he didn't just thoroughly fuck your brains out. You giggle, more than happy to return it and feeling his smile grow bigger. Even adding a couple more light ones to his right cheek- right on the scar he received in Spain all those years ago. "This really does look nice on you." You whisper while his tie lightly twirls around your fingers. The golden blonde pauses his soft lazy kisses he was placing on the collection of messy marks he left in your skin, snickering. "Glad you like it."

However, a late realization strikes you, "Weren't you going to wear this to a meeting today?" You feel him pause, then his hot breath fans over the crook of your neck as he sighs with a low, "Damn it." You're unable to stop the small laugh that escapes as you remove your limbs from him so he could get up.

Leon moves away, slowly pulling out of you, before stopping. The sight of your juices and his cum leaking out of your spent hole onto the bedsheets was suddenly far too enticing to step away from. "Maybe, but..." He begins lowly, eyes darkening and bottom lip pulled between his teeth into that little smirk as he rubs his thumb from your entrance to your clit. Making your body jolt with overstimulation as a soft gasp escapes you. Quickly your gaze finds his while he continues to smear the mess all over your inner thighs.

"I think this meeting needs my full attention."

[romanoffsbish]

Chapter 47: You’re Real?

Chapter 46 | Masterlist | Chapter 48 | Words: 1,984

Y/N’s POV

My head is killing me, as is the remainder of my body to be quite honest. I slowly open my eyes, taking in my surroundings, and it's a packed house.

———

Vision's asleep, or I guess "shutdown", in the recliner. Thor's asleep in the fetal position on the floor, while cuddling with his axe, and suckling on his thumb—I truly hate that this isn't the weirdest thing I've ever seen.

Wanda's in bed beside me sleeping peacefully—literally, she must've already woken up and moved into my bed. Carol is asleep to the right of Wanda's empty bed. I look ahead to see Natasha is asleep sitting up, leaning against the wall, and Yelena's asleep with her head in her lap.

She looks so worn down, she definitely aged up while I was gone, but is just as beautiful as the day we met—if not more so.

"Hey Nugget..."

I all but jump out of my skin at the sound of Tony's voice, having been so focused on Nat I'd not even seen him enter, I quickly look up to see his broken smile as he stares down at me.

"Hey.. Are you okay?" I croak out, and he immediately moves to pour the water into a glass for me.

"Me? What about you? You're the one in the bed." He attempts to deflect.

"Tony." I say with an intense glare, and grip his hand in mine.

"I just... I gave up Y/N/N, and I'm so sorry... Nat and Wanda fought so hard to get you back, and I just coward away in my cabin."

"Hey, you were just surviving, it's okay. You stepped up when it counted..."

"Stop always excusing my shitty behavior.."

"If I don't excuse you sometimes, then that leaves Pepper with all the work."

His gaze remains sad, not even a hint of amusement behind his eyes...

"Seriously though, Tony, you couldn't do anything until Scott was back. You did what needed to be done—you raised your daughter. Morgan deserved to have normalcy, and you gave it to her. I'm more than okay with that."

"You really are mom's mini me..." He sighs, as tears fall down his cheeks.

"Oh my gosh, speaking of mom... I saw her."

"What?" He gasps with a quirked brow, as he looks at my morphine drip.

"I know, it sounds crazy, but it was right after I snapped. I felt her warm embrace, and as soon as her Chanel No.5 hit my nostrils I knew she wasn't a figment of my imagination. Tones, she's happy for us, and she forgives you for what happened, even though she did say she wanted to slap you upside the head... She also told me to kiss her grand baby, and to pass off her name to my future kids... Also, she loves Natty, which warms my heart...I'm just... It was nice is all, I wish you could've been there too..."

He sadly smiles at me, nodding along to all I rambled on about, then he leaned down to kiss my temple.

"Are you up for a visitor then?" He whispers, and pushes my hair out of my face.

I nod vehemently, smiling widely at the idea of seeing her after all this time.

He slightly leans my bed up for me, Wanda groans but remains asleep, then he instructs Pepper to enter the room with a sleeping Morgan.

"She's a heavy sleeper, so really we're bringing her here to sleep with you for the rest of the night." Tony whispers, as Pepper places Morgan atop of me.

I stare down at her, holding back the tears threatening to fall as I'm now seeing her for the first time in two years. What was merely the blink on an eye for me, was actually two years for everyone else. Wanda, and Natasha had to live without Yelena and I, returning to our apartment to be reminded daily that we were gone. There lives must've been incredibly boring. Morgan went through critical milestones, and I wasn't there to see them. She's practically doubled in size, and I basically missed all the snuggly years, if she's anything like Tony and I, she's probably massively independent...

"Hey, it's okay.. She's really missed you, prepare yourself for insanity." Tony whispers once more, wiping the tear threatening to fall, and ruffling my hair slightly before him and Pep slip out.

Morgan mindlessly readjusts, rolling around until she's seemingly comfortable, tugging the dilapidated dino plushy I got her even closer to her tiny body. Her body eventually settled in between Wanda's and mine, and her face was buried into the crook of my neck.

I was about to fall asleep, but then I felt someone nudge me awake…

Bucky’s POV

I’m returning the stones tomorrow, and subsequently returning myself as well.

Before I do, I want to say my goodbyes, so I sneak into Y/N’s room as Tony and Pepper leave.

“Hey there kiddo…”

“Barnes, how many times do I have to tell you, stop calling me kiddo.” She groans, as she opens her eyes to look at me.

“Y/N, I—.”

“You’re leaving…” She replies, with a sad smile.

“Yeah… I am tasked with returning the stones tomorrow, and I am not coming back.”

“I understand… I’m sorry about Steve, I know how much you meant to one another. I’m sure he was miserable the last two years without you. I’m going to miss you terribly old man..” She states, a devious smirk taking place upon her face.

“Hey… if I can’t call you kiddo, you can’t call me old man.” I groan, but smile at her anyways, and she returns the smile.

“Take care of yourself Barnes, go find that happiness you deserve.”

“You do the same doll, thank you for everything you’ve given me.” I sincerely state, sweetheart her shoulder gently, as she squeezes it in return.

Nat's POV

I woke up with a start as the sun seeped into the hospital room, settling down quickly in an attempt to not wake Yelena up; to my surprise, she'd already been awake, staring up at me.

"Good morning Nat, your legs are rather comfortable."

"Good morning Lena, glad to be of service." I reply with a playful smirk, then lean down to kiss her forehead.

"Disgusting... Do it again." She mumbles out, then I chuckle lightly before repeating the action.

"Are you okay?" She genuinely asks, her gaze softening ever so slightly.

"I am now." I sigh out, while running my fingers through her knotted hair, while looking up from Lena, to see that Wanda, Y/N and Morgan are all cuddled up together.

The sight makes my heart melt, but then within an instant I'm lowly burning with jealousy.

That should be me...and it will be!

As I'm concocting a plan for our escape, an assistant of Tony's walks in with a tray of breakfasts for everyone. Yelena jumps up from my lap to immediately collect a tray, and I move to start waking everyone else up.

"Auntie Nat?" Morgan groggily questions, as she rubs her eyes and tries to get a hold on where she is.

"Hey there little love." I coo, while pushing the hair out of her sleepy face.

"Where am I?" She hums, while simultaneously snuggling further into Wanda and Y/N's warmth.

"Open your eyes, and find out." I playfully whisper, so she peeks through with one eye and gasps.

"Auntie Y/N/N?!" She shouts, and moves up onto her knees, landing directly on Y/N's abdomen and Y/N instantly opens her eyes.

"You're a lot heavier than I remember." Y/N groans, then smiles up at her.

"I missed you so much." Morgan whisper shouts, as her lip begins to quiver, then she falls on top of Y/N, and sobs directly against her collarbone's.

"Oh, sweet girl, was your dad really that bad?" Y/N jokes, while rubbing her back, and Morgan giggles, and leans in closer to Y/N.

"I missed you too, pretty girl." Y/N whispers, then she looks up to me with teary eyes, and a pouty lip, clearly overwhelmed.

I lean in to place a kiss to her forehead, inhaling deep whiffs of her natural scent, instantly feeling as my nervous system calms. Then I move down to kiss her nose, and she lightly giggles. Finally, I land on her lips, sighing instantly as I relish in the missed feeling. Our lips move perfectly against each other, the kiss is slow and sweet, and throws my mind for a loop.

"Natty, it's okay..." Y/N mumbles against my lips, and that's when I realize I am crying.

"I missed you so much, detka..." I shakily mumble against her lips, then pull back slightly, resting my forehead against hers, as I work to regain my composure.

"I'm so sorry, I never wanted to leave you, I can't imagine how hard it was..."

"Auntie Y/N/N... Please don't leave again... Everyone was so sad… Auntie Natty and Wands were crying all the time.. They tried to hide it, but I knew they were sad, because I was too." Morgan interrupts her,

"Wow, my lil baby is just so smart.. Smarter than her daddy, that's for sure." Y/N beams, and kisses her forehead.

"Mama says that too, she says I can run circles around daddy... I'm happy you're back, can we have a sleepover, please?" She lifts her head, and pouts at us adorably.

"How about this weekend? I'll come pick you up, and then we'll buy all the junk food possible, and we'll all watch movies together." I suggest, honestly wanting a night or two alone with Y/N first…

"Is Auntie Lena back too?" Morgan suddenly bolts up, and I look back to see Yelena's face brighten up.

"Why don't you turn around and see for yourself, moye malen'koye solnyshko."

Morgan quickly scrambles to the end of the bed, and practically jumps off , as Yelena prepares to catch her, and grips her into a tight embrace.

I reach down, and go to remove Wanda's arm from Y/N, so I can slip her out of bed, but Wanda swats my hand away and physically growls...

"Listen up Tigress, relinquish MY girlfriend, so I can actually hug her and also so she can receive nourishment." I command, groaning at Wanda’s overly clingy nature.

"Best friend trumps girlfriend." Wanda mockingly mumbles, as she tightens her hold on her.

"I won't hesitate to rip you apart, little witch." I seethe, no longer having the patience.

"Ladies!!! Calm down, I'm not going anywhere. Now, Wands, go hug your deprogrammed robot and enjoy your breakfast. You had me all night, it's only fair that it's Natty's turn."

Wanda concedes as soon as Y/N says to, and begrudgingly mopes her way over to Vision's sleeping form.

Y/N stands up, wobbling slightly but I catch her, and pulls her closer by her hips, and wrap my arms around her lower back to steady her.

"I love you, so very much my beautiful girl."

Y/N beams, as she settles into my embrace, and leans her face against my chest, and sighs.

"I love you so very much too, moya krasivaya angel..." I coo while holding her body close, and kissing her temple.

I gently sway us side to side, holding her head against my chest, and using my other hand to hold her body firmly against mine. She wraps her around my waist even tighter than before, and I feel like I’m on the verge of breaking down.

“You’re real?” I whimper in question, as I all but suffocate her with my hold.

“I’m real…” She confirms, as she places a gentle kiss to my collarbone, and I finally let go, not even caring that the room’s full of people.

—————————————

Taglist

@simpforflorencepugh1 @ali-lie

[blogevaawrites]

Keeping to the schedule

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: angst, sad, marriage, divorce, smut

Summary: After seven years of being married, two daughters and a difficult divorce, they try to understand what went wrong and why they let that happen.

Part I   Part II

I tried to process the whole information he was sharing and for the first time I believed I made a mistake. I saw it then, why he has been incredibly mad at me.

Sure, at first our separation was hard, but now he was looking happy, at least that’s what he shows me. I also was well, I still loved him but deep in my heart I thought it was the best for both of us. Now everything seems so wrong.

“There was another way. You could have told me everything, we could have dealt with all of that. You let this happen to us.” I said, full of resentment. His face was different then, he came here full of concern and then all what I was seeing was frustration.  

“What are you talking about? You filed for divorce. You decided unilaterally when we were done. You ran away from our marriage at first obstacle. This is not my fucking blame.” His words were like a knife in my skin. I never took it like that. All what I could see was his unhappiness and coldness, in my heart I was doing the right thing.

Tears fell down through my cheeks uncontrollably, our seven years together seemed thrown away. I could feel him moving around the room, he was trying to calm down himself.

“I thought you were being distant because you blamed me for the infection, and then when anything seemed to change, I thought you weren’t happy and that you didn’t know how to leave me.” I said after I got my shit together. I saw him shaking his head, I wasn't sure if he wasn’t satisfied with my words or if he was answering the accusation.

He didn’t response right away, he took a few minutes to breathe loudly.

“I felt ashamed of being the one who needed help after what you went through.” He said without looking at me, he was staring the wall behind me. “I could have never ever blamed you for something like that.” He finished. His hand went to caress my face before pulling me to his embrace.

“I’m sorry” I babbled between tears.

I let myself cry my eyes out in his arms. I felt like I threw out our life because I couldn’t put aside my anger to talk our problems out , like I put my daughters through all of that because I got mad at my husband. I knew he wasn't innocent at all but guiltiness took over my whole body and couldn’t shake it off.

His hands ran all over my back and the back of my neck; the feeling of security invaded my body and the need of get out of my own thoughts grew.

He was so close to me that I couldn’t help kissing him.

His hands didn’t take long before holding my face closer to him, in the perfect position to let our tongues connect with each other.

Needing for air we broke the kiss but not for long, he kissed me again letting his hand go to hold me up from my butt. I just could follow his actions; I didn’t want to do anything else. He took me to our bedroom quickly, he sat at the edge of the bed making me straddle him.

Without leaving my mouth, he moved the strips of my shirt away from my shoulders, leaving my breast on full display for him. His hands played with my nipples before taking them in his mouth. I just could moan, moving my hips to find some friction against his bulge. He showed me his excitement pushing my hips even closer to him.

“I love you so much” he mumbled against my collarbone. His words made my noxious thoughts hunt my mind, I knew he loves me, I loved him too; it wasn’t the first time he said it after our divorce, but it was wrong now. I stood up quickly, he looked at me confused while I tried to put my shirt on again.

“What’s wrong?” he asked extending his arm to reach me.

“Who am I now? Your sidechick. Isn’t works in the other way? From a sidechick to a wife?” I said with a sardonic laugh, rubbing my eyes, trying to concentrate again.

He laughed, laying down on the bed. I looked at him completely horrified by his reaction. He took his phone from his jeans and scrolled around it for a few seconds before handing it to me.

It was a kind of a contract, an agreement to release seven pictures along with a misleading and suggestive headline.

“Meghan asked me because her team want her to be related to a certain kind of people.” He explained, I knew that this is part of his job, and he was used to it before we got together.

“It’s a pap walk.” I said understanding what he meant, I wasn’t familiar to it because he hadn’t done one since we met.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. That’s what I wanted to tell you when I came the last time.” He took my hand to bring me closer to him while he continued explaining “I shouldn’t have agreed to it, but I realized of it too late and I wanted to talk to you before the pictures got release. I didn’t want you to feel disappointed or mad and don’t worry! I already asked her and Meghan to shut down any rumor.” He guided my legs to straddle him again. “I tried to bail out of it after what happened between us, but I just couldn’t.”

“Okay.” I felt relieved. I wasn’t ready to see him with someone else, and thank God, he said he wasn’t ready to date again.

“Let’s just put you to sleep, okay?” He said caressing my head and taking my hair away from my face. He saw my face and quickly he explained to me his change of mind.

“The girls are with Scott, but he has a flight to catch in a couple hours. I need to pick them up. Okay?” he said forcing me to look at him. “Hey! Listen to me I will call you as soon as they fall sleep, will that be okay?” he asked again.  

I nodded, getting up. I thought he was going to leave right away but he did not. He uncovered the bed for me to get in and laid next to me for a few minutes.

“You will always be the one. I promise.” He slurred against my temple, after kissing it.

He left the room without waiting for an answer, he must have thought I was sleeping because he tried not to make many noises.

After a few hours, my phone rang, and I didn’t wait a second to respond.

“I wasn’t sure if you were going to be up.” he said. I could hear him closing a door. I haven’t been in his new house, but I know his style very well, enough at least, to imagine it.

“I’m a light sleeper.”

“I know.” He let go a sad laugh. “I wanted to call you early, but Anna was interrogating my ass about my quick trip of tonight.” he said cooling off the environment.  

“Oh! Yeah! She can be very tough, it’s probably a phase.” I said with a smile, remembering the last time I had a quick conversation with our neighbor, and she thought I was dating him.

“Yeah! I guess, but I think we should check on her, maybe she’s experiencing anxiety because of the changes or something like that. I’ve been reading about kids with divorced parents can suffers these kinds of things.” I knew he was just worried about them; I was too, but right then I felt guilty, I felt like I did this to them.

“Okay” I murmured.

I was excited about his call, I wanted to figure it out what we could do to save this, but maybe it was too late. We held on everything for so long, and now it’s probably just too late.

“What do you want to do?” he asked calmly, completely away from my thoughts.

“I don’t know.”

“Tomorrow my sister is going to the lake house. She wanted me to take the girls, but I could let them go with her and we could hang out. I don’t know, we could have a kind of a date and talk, we could try to sort this out.”  

“Okay.”

“Is everything alright?” I knew he was asking because of my monosyllabic answers.

“Yes, I’m just kind of sleepy.” I didn’t want to talk anymore.

“Okay.” his voice sounded disappointed now. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Fine.”

“I love you” he said after a few seconds quiet.

I didn’t know what I was supposed to say, I loved him, but it felt like I was accepting everything, it felt like I was saying “yes, I broke us, our family”.

“Me too”  

I couldn’t say much else. I said bye and hung up.

He picked me up at 7:00 p.m, he told he wanted to spend the day with the girls because they wanted to spend the night over there with their cousins. We decided to just have a dinner at his house in order to have more privacy and also, we could be in a kind of neutral environment since he doesn’t feel it like home, and I don’t even know the house.

“You want a tour?” he asked as soon as we got in the house. I nodded and followed him through the house. I wasn’t wrong about this style, the house it was almost a copy of ours, and it felt weird.

“It’s very similar to ours, isn’t?” I said softly, I wasn’t sure how he was going to take it.

“Yeah, I know, Scott said the same thing, but I don’t know, I’m living here, and this has to be home now.” He said and all at once I felt the guiltiness coming back to my body, it was like I kicked him out of his home.

“We have your favorite for dinner” he said completely unaware of my harmful thoughts.

“Great.” I didn’t want to spoil any possible progress.

He took my hand guiding me to the dinning room. We had a nice dinner, just talking about our past, when we met, when I got pregnant with Anna, when we took her to Disney for the first time… we had a happy life.

We talked about everything, but we didn’t talk about why we let this happened to us. It was like we weren’t seeing the big fat elephant in the room. After the dinner he took me outside to have the dessert in front the fireplace.

“Are you okay?” he asked worried, I wasn’t being very talkative, and he knows me well enough to let it pass.

“Yes.” I said taking a spoon of mousse.

He took my dessert from my hands.

“You sure?” he asked, forcing me to look at him by my chin. I just could nod; I didn’t know what else to do.

He took my chin to his head, kissing me deeply. He got his body closer to mine and his hand went to hip and the other one didn’t leave the back of my neck. I kept to his leading until I felt his hand get under my dress, touching my naked thigh. I pushed him away from me softly. I stood up and rubbed my face trying to find the right words.

“This is not my fault.” I dopped. He smiled in confusion.

“Well, I guess it’s not, I started to kiss you, but…” he started to say.

“I didn’t break us. I may have been the one who made it official, but you decided not to tell me what was going on.” As I said that his eyes went dark. I knew he was ready to fight back, I have seen those eyes too many times.

“It wasn’t exactly an easy journey, I couldn’t…” he was accepting that he blamed me. His voice also changed; it wasn’t the same voice he used to used when we were married. This one was ironic, rough, and mean, the one he use since we were divorced.

“Mine wasn’t easy either! It wasn’t just a rough patch for me, Chris. I felt you were abandoning me, and you knew what I was feeling.”  My eyes were getting wet, and I tried to do everything not to cry.

“How I could have known that?” he sounded irritated, not just because he was talking louder but he also because his head was resting in his hands.

“Because I told you, Chris! I asked you to come back home million of times, and you rather take our daughters to the other side of the world than come back home with your wife.” I said, recalling the last time I asked him when he was going to be back. He didn’t answer, instead of that he set a whole plan. He made Scott flight to Boston to pick up the girls and then take them to Japan where he was filming his fifth film of the year.  

“I was working…” He said with a different voice.

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” The air got cooler; we weren’t yelling anymore. He wasn’t looking at me when I started to walk out.

“I don’t think we can do this.” I said, ready to leave.

“We have to try it.” He caught my attention.

“Emma and Anna will be alright; they are fine now.” I’ve always thought that keeping kids in a unhappy marriage it’s way more dangerous that have a civilized divorce. I knew he was worried about them, but it wasn’t right.  

“Not because of them, because I love you and I know you love me too.” He was right.

“Maybe it’s not enough anymore.”

“Yes, it is! It has to be! I don’t want to be alone the rest of my life and if it’s not with you I will be, don’t you see it? It’s been almost a year and I still thinking of you as my wife.” He stood up to get closer to me.

It broke my heart that he was right. I can’t imagine myself with another man, and it could be just a matter of time, but I honestly didn’t think so.

“How could this work? We’re going to end hating each other.” I said verbalizing one of my biggest fears.

“We won’t. I promise.” He said pulling my body to his arms.

 @moonlacebeam @denisemarieangelina @lovebittenbyevans @popteest @aubageddon91 @hey-diddly-ho-neighborino @impala1967666 @firoozehmoon

[drabbles-mc]

Stopping In

Opie Winston x F!Reader

Request by the loml @garbinge​​:  48. One person has to bend down in order to kiss their partner, who is standing on their tip-toes to reach their partner’s: opie hehe you were right that info does come in handy (Prompt is from This List) & I also included some angst prompts from This List

Warnings: language, alcohol, angst, mentions of blood/injuries, Sad Boy Opie

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Anj, you sent me this soft and beautiful request and I made it angsty and I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I either have Opie in perfect relationships or messy ones. Guess which one this is. xo

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Every logical bone in your body was telling you that this was the last place that you should be showing up, but you couldn’t help yourself. The past few weeks had been one bad thing after another, and tonight finally broke you down. So, despite any rational thoughts that’d crossed your mind, you found yourself rolling into the compound at T-M. The line of bikes that were parked outside the clubhouse seemed to stretch on for miles, and you knew in your gut that you were about to be walking into a madhouse. It crossed your mind that it wasn’t too late to turn around and take off, but you’d already come this far. With a deep sigh, you cut the ignition of your car and slowly stepped out.

The clubhouse looked larger than it had a few weeks ago. It really hadn’t been that long since you were there, but it felt like an eternity as you slowly crossed the lot to get to the door. You could hear the music and ruckus before you even pulled on the handle.

Stepping inside, you looked around and it seemed like every other Friday night that you’d spent at the clubhouse. SAMCRO seemed to go largely untouched by time and you wondered how they got so lucky. If only walking back into the building could undo everything that’d happened since the last time you left.

No one noticed you, which was probably for the best. So many people filtered in and out all night, there was no way for someone to keep track of them all. You knew who you were looking for, but you didn’t really know why. You had nothing that you could really ask him for, but he was still the first person that you thought to run to.

Doing your best to avoid eye contact with everyone there, you silently made your way over to the bar. You saw the prospect behind it, opening up beer bottles as quickly as he could manage without dropping them. He didn’t even notice that you’d popped up.

You cleared your throat, “Hey, Kip.”

He whipped his head to look at you, eyes a little wide, “Shit, hey,” the longer he looked at you, the more he could see what a wreck you were, “You alright?”

You shook your head slightly, not really wanting to get into it all with him, “Opie here?”

You could see the hesitation in his eyes. He knew that things didn’t end well between you, and he had seen more than enough scorned ex-girlfriends and past hookups come traipsing into the clubhouse trying to stir up trouble. Given your current state, it was hard to imagine that that was your intent, but he still had to be skeptical.

“Um, I’m pretty sure, yea,” he made no move to get him for you, or point you in his direction.

“Could you just let him know I’m here, please?” you hated that it sounded like you were on the cusp of begging, but you were.

He knew that he wasn’t going to be able to turn you away, so with a silent nod, he scooped up the beer bottles that he’d opened and came out from the other side of the bar to go and find the man in question. You didn’t turn around to look and see where he was going—the less people who saw your face that night, the better. The last thing you wanted to deal with on top of everything else was people wanting to talk, wanting to pretend that reality wasn’t what it was.

You felt his presence before you heard his voice. He always had an aura of cologne and smoke around him, and despite the fact that in that moment it made your heart feel about a thousand pounds heavier, there was an odd sense of comfort to it, too. It was nice to have something familiar.

“Prospect said you were looking for me?”

You didn’t want to turn around and face him, didn’t want him to see how upset you were, but you knew that you didn’t really have much of a choice. Slowly turning on the barstool, you faced him, “Yea…you got a minute?”

All the things that he never said with his words, he said with his body language and facial expressions. He’d always been a quiet man, but his eyes spoke volumes. He could see it on your face that you’d been crying, a lot. His brows began to knit together as he clenched his jaw. Gripping the edges of his kutte, he nodded and gestured towards the back hall that led to the dorms.

Neither of you said anything to each other or anyone else as you made your way back to his small shoebox of a room. Nothing had changed in it since the last time you were there. You stood awkwardly in the center of the room as Opie shut and locked the door behind the two of you. Once you heard the click of the lock, there was a small swell of relief that coursed through you.

“I’m sorry for just stopping in like this,” you shook your head as your eyes dropped down to the carpet, “I didn’t know where else to go.”

He gave a small shrug, “It’s alright.”

In all the time that you’d known him, Opie had never intentionally tried to make you feel small. However, as you stood there a few feet away from him, you felt your body beginning to tremble. You gnawed at your bottom lip in an attempt to keep from crying as you tried to piece together what you wanted to tell him.

“Something happen?” he asked, already knowing the answer. If you weren’t just going to say it, he was going to try and coax it out of you.

“Couple guys cornered me in the parking lot when I got off work tonight,” you found that you couldn’t look him in the eyes as you spoke, “They had kuttes but they weren’t ones that I’d seen before. They, um, they roughed me up a little,” tears were spilling onto your cheeks but you ignored them, “Told me to let you and the guys know that if you don’t get your shit together, there was gonna be hell to pay.”

“Fuck,” his voice was quiet as he shook his head.

“I told them that I don’t talk to you, or any of the guys, anymore. They didn’t believe me. Guess they missed that you don’t give a shit anymore,” the bitterness came out before you could try to mitigate it.

He looked at you, waiting for you to meet his gaze. You could see it in his eyes that your words stung, his lips tugged down into a slight frown, “I never said that I don’t give a shit.”

“You might as well have,” you shook your head and finally wiped the tears off your cheeks.

He stepped in closer to you, “I love you, alright? But staying with me, with any of us,” he gestured back towards the rest of the clubhouse, “is a bad idea. There’s too much shit going on right now,” he paused and you could see the sadness in his eyes, “People get hurt if they stay too close to me. And I…I wasn’t gonna have that happen to you.”

“Well keeping me away doesn’t seem to help either,” you snapped, frustrated with everything about the situation, “You pushed me away with that bullshit about trying to keep me safe, but it doesn’t really matter, does it? Once we’re in this,” you gestured to the room, “we’re in. And you can dump me, give me back all my shit, tell me not to come around here anymore, but it doesn’t change the fact that anyone out there is still going to associate me with you, with the club. I don’t…I don’t get how you don’t get that yet.”

“Because I want better for you,” he collapsed what little distance was left between you, staring down at you with desperation written all over his face, “You still have a chance to get out and away from all this shit. And you should. I don’t get why you haven’t.”

“Because I don’t want to!” you wanted to shake him, “You talk to me like I didn’t know what I was getting into to, and that’s bullshit. And what’s even worse is you standing here pretending that you can just undo everything that’s happened, everything that we’ve been through.”

“You don’t get—”

“Stop,” you weren’t yelling but your tone was cold, “Don’t stand there and tell me that I don’t get it. I had two guys back me up against my car tonight, do this,” you yanked the collar of your sweatshirt to the side to reveal a gash running just above your collarbone, “Because of some shit that, even when I was with you, I had no control over. So trust me, I get it.”

You were resituating your sweatshirt but Opie reached out to stop you. He covered your hand with his own, gently pulling it away before peeling back your hoodie once more. His frown deepened as he fought the urge to touch it, not really able to believe that it’d happened.

“I know that whatever it is, is probably why you did all of this,” you motioned back and for the between the two of you, “in the first place. But clearly it’s not fixing the issue. I just, I can’t do all this shit alone, Ope. And, honestly, I don’t think that you can either.”

He forced his eyes away from your cut to look at your face, “It’s not like I wanted this.”

“Then why are we doing it?” you shook your head.

Dodging your question completely, he turned and stepped towards the door, “I’m gonna tell Jax what happened. This shit needs to get handled.”

Reaching out before he could get too far, you grabbed his hand, “No.”

His brows furrowed deep as he turned around to look at you, “What?”

“Don’t. Not right now.”

“But—”

“He’s probably about seven shots deep out there, with some girl sprawled across his lap. What good is he for handling anything right now? Nothing productive is gonna get done tonight.”

Letting out a deep sigh, he had to admit that you were right. None of the guys were going to be helpful at this point, and he wasn’t going to be able to safely handle everything on his own. He had no other answers, though, and he was left standing there feeling utterly useless.

“What do you need from me?” he finally asked.

“I don’t feel safe going home tonight,” you admitted.

He raised his eyebrows slightly, “You wanna stay here?”

“Better than sleeping in my car,” a hollow chuckle slipped past your lips.

“Okay,” he nodded, “sure.”

“Thank you.”

There was a stretch of silence between you. Once all the chaos had been addressed, it left the two of you trapped in a small room suffocating under the reality of your situation with each other. A situation that felt much less clear than whatever was going on with the club.

“You should shower,” he broke the silence as he nodded towards your neck, “Clean that shit out.”

You nodded, sighing as you tried to wrap your head around what the next steps were going to be, “Right.”

You still knew where everything was. With all the ease in the world, you got your towel and one of Opie’s old shirts, along with a pair of his boxers to sleep in. You weren’t thinking anything of it—it still felt so second nature, and it wasn’t like you had anything of your own left in the dorm anymore. Opie didn’t say anything about it either—he couldn’t tell if it was comforting or heartbreaking to see you going through the motions like that.

He cleared his throat, “Do you want me to leave?”

You looked up at him, a small, sad hint of a smile on your face, “I never did.”

When you came back out of the bathroom after your shower, Opie was walking back into the room as well. You did a double-take, though. He’d peeled off the seemingly endless number of layers he wore until he was down to just a t-shirt and his jeans. He’d decided to forego the beanie, too, in the name of comfort. You watched as he carried a couple water bottles in one hand, and a first aid kit in the other.

“I’m not gonna pretend I know what to do,” he said with a tired smile and shake of his head, “But there’s at least band-aids,” he held the kit out to you.

It felt good to laugh despite everything that was happening outside the walls of his dorm, “Thanks,” you took the kit and brought it to the bathroom so you could use the mirror to best apply what bandages you could find.

Opie watched you from the opposite side of the room. He leaned back against the closed door, trying to wrap his head around everything that was going on, trying to figure out where the two of you were going to go from here on out. He could see the way your face contorted in concentration as you patched yourself up, something you’d always been determined to do on your own.

When you turned around to walk back out into the dorm, you saw him staring at you. You felt your face get hot and you tried to ignore it as you walked over, setting the first aid kit off to the side as you went. You saw the way his chest rose and fell drastically as he let out a deep sigh. You fought the urge to do the same as you stood in front of him, wanting nothing more than to just collapse against him at the end of what felt like the world’s longest day.

He could see it on your face, too. He wasn’t going to make you ask—it was the least he could do after everything you’d been through, everything he’d put you through. Stepping in closer to you, he held his arms out slightly, “C’mon.”

There was no hesitation as you fell against his chest. Wrapping your arms around his middle, you took comfort in the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, his hand running up and down your back. You felt the urge to cry coming on, but you’d already done far too much of that over the last couple of weeks. Taking a deep, steadying breath, you made yourself look up at him.

“I love you too, by the way,” you spoke softly as you rested your chin against his chest as you looked up at him, “Even though I’ve been nothing but really pissed off with you lately. I love you.”

Something resembling a smirk was tugging at the corner of his mouth, “Least I have that going for me,” his expression sobered up, and you could see it in his eyes that he was trying to find the right thing to say, “I’m sorry,” he started, shaking his head slightly, “for tonight, for everything. I’m sorry. I’m just trying to figure all this shit out.”

You nodded, “I know. It’s easier to figure things out, you know, if you talk to someone besides yourself about it.”

“I’m workin’ on it,” he paused, “You alright?”

You let out a tired laugh, shaking your head slightly, “Ask me in the morning.”

“Hey,” he gently cupped your face in his hands, “I got you, alright? We’ll figure it out.”

Nodding, you rested your hands on top of his, “I know.”

The world seemed to come to a stop around the two of you as you stood there like that. He was waiting for you to pull away, and you were waiting for him to do the same. When neither of you did, though, you felt a wave of familiarity wash over you. Standing up on your tip-toes, you leaned in to kiss him. He leaned down to meet you, still cupping your face in his hands. The feeling of his lips against yours brought you the closest to feeling okay, feeling safe, that you’d been in a while. His thumb traced along your cheek as you rested your hands against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your palm.

Pulling his lips off of yours, he let his hands fall to rest on your shoulders, still reveling in the heat that was soaking through his shirt from your hands against his chest. You looked up at him, not really sure what to say, what to do. Everything in your life felt like it was in limbo.

He could see the confusion in your eyes, too. Pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, he nodded towards the bed, “You should get some sleep. Gonna be a long day tomorrow.”

Nodding slowly, reality started to settle back in, “Right,” you paused, “You’re staying, right?”

“Yea,” he nodded, “I’ll stay.”

The two of you were packed tight in his tiny dorm bed, and it should’ve felt uncomfortable but it wasn’t. Your back was pressed tightly against his chest as you tangled your legs with his, his arms wrapped securely around your middle. You felt the light tickle of his beard as he nestled his chin into the crook of your neck. In the middle of the chaos and the fear and the heartbreak, everything felt like it was supposed to for a moment. You felt him let out a deep, relaxed sigh, and it prompted you to do the same. Despite the stress and the confusion that the next day, for few days, were going to hold, for the night you were alright. Things were miles away from being fixed, but those were problems for the morning.