#but for now.....enjoy my incessant rambling

[lizardthelizard]

what fan theories are you thinking of for the appreciation week? 👀👀👀

Omg hi <3 <3 <3 Always a pleasure to see you in my inbox, thank you for the ask :)

Okay, okay so.

So far, I have three theories floating around in my mind. I joined the OUAT a little too late to actually see any of them first hand at the time, but they're SO much fun to read up on and explore even long after the show has ended.

Fan theory 1) is that the Blue Fairy was secretly the Big Bad of the show and would be revealed to be the main villain of the series. Or, at the very least, she was more villainous than she appeared to be on the surface. 'Shady Blue' is such a fun fan theory that I still see people talking about now.

I absolutely don't think the writers were secretly plotting for her to be the real villain of the story (though I'm not as well versed with OUAT lore as some others so anyone is welcome to give me evidence to the contrary. (and I know that Keegan Connor Tracy that played Blue joked about it/leaned into it )). However, the 'evidence' in canon that might suggest that Blue was darker than she seems can be...compelling.

Her harshness with Tinker Bell, the fact that Pinocchio becoming real very much had strings attached, the way she treated Nova and Dreamy...there are these little things that make her come across as (for lack of a better word) kind of a bitch.

But there are also more fascinating moments and details that people have brought up before! The fact that she's literally one of the oldest characters on the show. The way that Morraine, when talking with a young Baelfire, describes her as 'an ancient being that rules the night. The original power.' The fact that, when Cora tried to disguise herself as Blue, she was able to convince a young Snow that the Blue Fairy would ever be capable of encouraging murder.

Blue is a weird character. I have a personal vendetta against her (for Pinocchio related reasons) but she does have fascinating potential and if the writers had been able to pull this off, it might have been epic.

Theory 2 is the 'Dr. Whale is the Wizard of Oz' theory. This is a fan theory that I adore, although I haven't spent that much time researching it. Before the Frankenstein reveal, Whale was free real estate. And the Wizard of Oz theory just made so much SENSE imo. It fit the mystery of his character and the overall vibe and it was a hugely fun theory.

It also spawned a whole host of ideas about other characters playing the roles of characters from the Wizard of Oz (I believe I've seen Rumple mentioned as the Cowardly Lion, Graham mentioned as the Tin Man (since he literally has no heart) and Jefferson as the Scarecrow. But I'm sure I've also seen other variations on each character too.

Also, everyone kept joking about him being the 'whale' from Pinocchio but let's not talk about that theory

Theory 3) is about who August W. Booth was, and whether or not he was the Author of the book.

It's a theory that makes sense. He's a writer, he was adding pages to the book, his name (Wayne Booth) is a direct reference to the man that coined the term 'unreliable narrator'. It feels like the writers were purposefully leading fandom towards this conclusion so that the Pinocchio reveal would be even more of a surprise.

Anyway, it's an interesting theory to explore, although it's probably my least favourite on the list here. I think that his Pinocchio backstory has way more to play with and a much better depth of flavour, but the 'author' theory is still intriguing to ponder over.

[caitlinbueckers]

fuck it.

caitlin clark x reader type beat

deadass this is just a mindless blurb but i CANNOT get shy yet cocky caitlin clark meeting a rivaling fan in an elevator outttt of my mind soooo enjoy (thanks @sellawrites for being my beta fr)

SLIGHT NSFW , DIALOGUE HEAVY , BULLSHIT RAMBLINGS

18+ regardless

it would come to you as a surprise. a shock, really.

it would feel almost too crazy to be true.

you don’t think you’re losing your mind or anything, which could be a super viable option if it wasn’t for the fact that you had just left the court, game fresh in mind, still wearing an oversized UCONN t-shirt, typing quickly at your phone to express your distaste with the win that IOWA just pulled over your favorite team.

the elevator doors open and close standardly— you hadn’t realized until you’d booked the hotel just how fucking busy it is, not taking into account that it was one of the nicer hotels in the city, elite only in the sense that it took a lot of fucking flight points to even book here, exclusivity aside.

it doesn’t register to you until you’re finished with an almost exaggeratedly dramatic description of the game to your friend, corner of your lips raising slightly only in jest of your words, that you manage to glance upwards, eyes flickering quickly from the back of the hooded figure, back down to your phone. well, that is, until your eyes flicker upwards again, remaining there with a studying gaze as you try to place just where the fuck you’ve seen that hoodie before, embarrassingly candid in your incessant stare—

until the figure turns, and your suspicion is confirmed, and it kinda fucking feels like karma, or maybe some sick joke from the universe that of course the hooded figure just somehow happens to be the very player that disrespected your team the most— caitlin clark.

you’re sort of gobsmacked, so it’s silent for a beat before caitlin, almost apologetically, rushes to speak.

“sorry, i just— i saw you looking, so—“

“no, no— that’s my bad, like- i just didn’t, um, realize that i like, recognize your hoodie…?” it sounds as painful as it is to say, and somehow caitlin, despite the looks of aggression, fierceness and fervor that she displays on the court, somehow melts into this weird, sort of embarrassed looking smile that makes something foreign tingle within you. it’s endearment, surely, but interest nonetheless.

“no, that’s okay— i wasn’t, like, complaining, or anything.” it’s only then that caitlin’s eyes flicker down to your tee, and suddenly, it feels a little fucking ironic. “did you make it to the game tonight?”

self consciously, your arms cross over your chest, attempting to cover the logo, but you find an awkward, sort of quiet chuckle bubble out of you, “i did,” and, because despite the fact her team sort of fucked over your favorite team, it doesn’t take away the respect you have for her because she is tough, so you even go on to say, “you played really fucking well, by the way.”

then, it’s your turn to be surprised again, because america’s hardest basketball player is fucking blushing in front of you, ducking her head like she isn’t six feet, practically demanding to be seen, and it makes you grin despite it, admiring that even now, in her claim to fame, she’s humble.

“dude, that’s- that means a lot to me, really. it was… super fucking close, but—“ she stops herself, right as the elevator dings for your floor, right as she remembers she’s talking to a person, not a conference room, and clears her throat a little. “it was… hard.” she says, and it feels so achingly honest that it makes you pause for a second, biting the inside of your cheek. “looked hard.” you remark, watching as the smile on her face returns, timid, but there nonetheless.

then, the elevator gives another warning ding, and you feel like a fucking idiot because the doors are open and you won’t just go, and leave it at that. because, when else do people just get chances to meet people like this?

the time on your phone reads 1:24 AM.

not like you had anything else to do, anyway.

“sorry, am i like— in the way…?” caitlin is almost overly apologetic as she stands aside, and you’re quick to shake your head, mostly because yeah, she sort of was in the way, but also, because you didn’t really wanna get off yet.

“no! you’re fine, um, i was just gonna suggest maybe we could, like, i dunno— grab a drink or something, y’know?”

jesus, you felt like an idiot as soon as the words are out, and you wince, eliciting a chuckle from both you and her.

you rush to explain, “sorry, that’s like— super fucking weird, i just like, fly out tomorrow morning so i just— wanted to offer, i guess?”

but for some reason, it’s mingled with the sound of caitlin’s quick reassurance, eyes wide almost as if to make sure she’s being understood, as she says, “no, no— that’s not weird, i don’t… have anything else to do, anyway.”

the answer, though only slightly backhanded, makes your lips twitch into a real smile, and you snort, shrugging a bit. “is it gonna ruin your reputation to drink at a hotel bar?”

she’s ruthless. a fighter. a winner.

she smiles again, and it’s soft, before she shakes her head, “what reputation?”

-

you both end up too fucking drunk— the bartender only a little starstruck as you both pretend under some unspoken agreement that caitlin’s name was totally debbie and she’d never heard of women’s basketball in her life. it’s stupid, and ridiculous, and somehow you want to think it’s too good to be true that one person can be so insanely talented, and somehow not be a piece of shit— caitlin seems to prove you wrong at every point.

“dude, fuckin’— god, kate’s gonna be pissed.” the words leave caitlin’s lips in a breath of laughter, the elevator shutting behind you as your hand presses to the wall for register, shoulder bumping against her arm due to the height discrepancy that isn’t totally still making something within you stir in awe.

kate martin. you’re aware of her team enough to identify who that must be, and for only half a second do you remember that this isn’t some chick you’d met at a hotel, this was caitlin fucking clark, and it fills you with a sense of astonishment, and then, weirdly, a surge of pride.

not for any posterity reasons, but because this absolute beast was fucking giggling and smiling and feverbright from the alcohol and you’re staring for way longer than you need to because, holy shit, why didn’t you realize how fucking pretty she was earlier?

“fuck it—“ you proclaimed, loopy and still a little too unsteady on your feet as you stumble, before her hand, long and firm, calloused and warm, flies out to grasp your shoulder, “my rooms like, fuckin’ empty, dude,”

she seems surprised, almost as much as you are that you’d even offered. “is that like—? are you like, sure?” and as if to make sure she has your attention, she pulls you to her, and your eyes flutter upwards, lips parted without a sound escaping because she’s looking down at you, her hair falling from its weakly tied ponytail, and she doesn’t realize that she’s holding you tight, but you can’t pull away because you don’t want to.

your response is immediate. “duh.”

she grins. your stomach flips, for the second time that night.

and really, truly, after that it should’ve been a lot more innocent. caitlin stumbles in and collapses on your bed, looking not even the slightest tired, but with a look on her face that makes you snicker out, “what?”

it escapes her in a breath of laughter, eyes lolling from the ceiling to you, standing almost idly beside the bed as your fingers caress the bedsheets, warm only from the presence of her body a few inches away.

“wish i could do this all the time.”

it makes you frown, but your lips are still upturned, giving her a look of amusement. “get drunk?”

her own hands are twiddling with each other, before she reaches up, caresses your arm with the subtlety of an elephant, tracing over the red lines she’d left on your bicep from the elevator. it makes you fucking shiver. “no, like— meet new people and stuff. just, talking to you is like— awesome, y’know…”

you don’t know, because you’re not a college athlete, but you nod anyway, leaning over her only slightly because the last vodka cranberry is settling nicely within you, and caitlin’s starting to grin, eyes hazy and cheeks pink, as you respond, soft and just for her, “consider this a prize then? winners trophy?”

she doesn’t answer, she just laughs and then she kisses you, uncoordinated and sloppy, nothing like how she is on the court, calculated and unwavering. like this, she’s loose, strong, but wobbly as she pulls you down over her, and it’s like a fucking sixth sense that you scramble atop of her, swinging a leg over her hips like you’ve done it a million times.

though, it’s more recognizable that she’s quick, her hands racing up your oversized shirt, thumbs hard as they press against your stomach, your ribcage, the lining of your bra.

she scoffs, soft and husky against your mouth, “take this shit off.” and it’s only then, that you remember cognizantly the UCONN shirt you’re wearing, and for some fucking reason, this sudden show of confidence, the liquor somehow fueling her, makes you blush.

“fuck off— “ you’re panting, but the shirt is tugged over your head regardless, a smirk on your face, “two point wonder.”

caitlin all but fucking growls, but she’s grinning, wolfish and proud, as she thumbs over your nipples, hard and pert through the lace as she presses her hips up against you, “two fuckin’— i’ll show you two fucking points.”

and she does.

maybe her post victory adrenaline had been surging, or maybe it was just all the beers she’d housed, but you’re surprised at her energy— which was stupid considering you were looking at a girl known for her endurance, her unlimited stamina.

but holy hell, she’d just rocked the fieldhouse for all it was worth— seemed like you were next on her agenda.

it’d be hard to recount all the details. you guys were drunk, and she was like a driving, pushing force— hands snuck down the front of your shorts, fingers impossibly dexterous as they curled into you, inducing every embarrassing and pitiful sound to rip from your throat, to breathe it into hers.

you probably wouldn’t remember her voice either, husky and low, gravelly with overuse, as she asks you, “hm? how’d i do tonight? tell me.” and in a sense, it’s fucking filthy. in another, it’s almost sort of sweet. the way she says it in your neck, the way she kisses you when you trip up to say, “good— so fucking good.” because neither of you are really talking about the game, and you both know it.

you pretend like you won’t remember the way she’s gone in the morning before you wake up, nothing but a warm reminder of her body on the haphazardly arranged bed, fixtures of the night surrounding you, like your littered clothes trailing off the bed, or your body under the sheets, like the pillow she’d used as leverage when she pressed open mouth kisses against the inside of your thigh, the way she’d taken you apart with her tongue and that’s all.

you do, however, remember the number she scrawls on a napkin, with an almost laughable signature that looks worlds away from her usual, coveted autograph.

instead of her looping cursive, a simple ‘cait’ sits scratched beside it, like she isn’t the award winning, competitively, aggressively ambitious beast that you used to know her as.

for now, it’s just caitlin.

[lullxby]

niccolo bf headcannons, how would he be with his gf, particularly a shy girl :))

oh my gosh he’d be insufferable (but also the sweetest guy ever?)

i did this with a few headcanons and a short imagine cus i didn’t know what one you’d like! enjoy!! 🤍

- this boy would love to see you get all flustered from his compliments, or hide your face to not let him see how red it’s getting. - if you were diverting your eyes from him for whatever reason, he’d definitely make you look at him - “lemme see that pretty face” - “c’mon ma, i don’t bite” - “unless you want me to” - all jokes aside, if someone were to talk over you when you were finally trying to speak your mind, he’d make sure you knew he was paying attention atleast. - “shut up and let her finish, yeah?” - he’s the only one allowed to tease you for how flustered you get - someone else goes “oooh she’s blushing, nicco, look whatcha do to her,” - he is pissed - “yeah? what about it?” he’d snap, knowing you wouldn’t want him to be too rude, but simultaneously not wanting you to be embarrassed - he’d def say some choice words to them later, regardless of if they were his friend or not 😊 - if you wanted him to, he’d order for you at a restaurant, or things of that sort

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

you and niccolo were sat on his couch, with brando and vittorio sitting beside the two of you, chatting mindlessly about something trivial. you had your legs splayed over niccolo’s thighs, his hands holding them in place.

you were reading a book, one that he had gotten you a few days ago, his excuse being he had just saw it and remembered you wanting it. the reality had been that he had waited for it to be released, just to be able to purchase it for you as soon as it did.

either way, he’d never forget the way your face had lit up when he presented it to you. with your expression, it could’ve been guessed that he gave you some crazy expensive gift, rather than just a fifteen euro book.

the boys continued talking, though nicco’s gaze kept flashing back towards you, as if he couldn’t bare to draw his eyes away for longer than a couple minutes.

you finished the chapter you were on, putting a small slip of random paper in as a bookmark.

he turned towards you, noticing the look in your eyes. it was always like he could read you like the books you always had your nose stuck in.

brando and vitto turned the conversation to just be between the two of them, letting niccolo talk to you rather than them.

you started chatting about the book, slowly changing subjects into how your day was. he listened close, occasionally nodding you along so you felt more comfortable letting him know about all these things.

that was, until brando started tapping the boy’s shoulder, trying to get his attention. you stopped talking, wanting niccolo to be able to talk to his friends, not wanting him to feel obliged to listen to you ramble.

this made him suddenly frustrated. he could’ve dealt with the incessant hits against his shoulder. but now that you had stopped talking, now that he wasn’t able to listen to your sweet voice, he was upset.

“bro, ‘m right in the middle of a conversation here, fuck off,” nicco sassed towards his friend, causing him to hold his hands up defensively and turn back to vitto.

then, his voice softened as he looked back towards you, “go ahead, babe, ‘m listening,” he urged, his eyes scanning over your face.

you shrugged, “it’s fine, you can talk to your friends,” you assured, opening up your book again.

“c’mon, please,” he practically begged, just wanting to hear more about how you were doing. he disliked doing this in front of his friends, as he hated for people to see the softer side of him, especially people like vitto.

still, he’d do anything for you, and he’d do it a thousand times more.

“tell me more about the girl you saw in the halls. what was her name? ludo?”

it was as if a switch in you flipped, as you nodded at the mention of your friend, going into a more in depth story about the dark-haired girl.

you had no clue what was yet to come with her.

baby taglist: lmk if you’d like to be added!

divider by h-aewo!

[ghost-proofbaby]

It's summer for you, winter for me. Warm me up with strawberry fluff! As always, my muse, your muse, the one and only, Eddie.

Midsummer's night, because I don't have a lot to inspire you with. I'm thinking something cute but weird? Maybe some human body softness where Eddie is a bit of a freak and we love him for it. And we're told our bodies are lovely, even when they're doing weird shit.

I lalalove youuuuu. xo Rhi

RHI!!!! <3 i adore you. thank you for this prompt - i had far too many ideas for it, but ended up on settling for this one, which coincidentally feels like the most subtle of them all? either way, it definitely turned out being the softest. give me an eddie munson who just wants to sniff me like a dog. this definitely got a bit long but i hope you enjoy, my dear <3

the smell of you

warnings: weirdos in love? idk. i have a skewed sense of what is actually weird i think. mentions of death and coffins jokingly. eddie 'manhandles' reader sort of. not edited.

wc: 2.2k+

come enjoy a sweet summer treat with me <3

“Eddie?”

The entire apartment is quiet – too quiet – as you drop your keys into the old crystal bowl on the counter. The clink resonates through the air, louder than the soft murmur of the stereo static you can hear from down the hall. 

“You dead?” you call out again, slipping off your running shoes and tossing down your headphones onto the counter as well now, “Do I need to call the coroner?” 

Your tone is lilted, teasing with airiness as you continue to wander deeper into the apartment and head straight for the room you know Eddie has to be in. Like the waves pulled by the moon, there’s an incessant string tied around one end of your soul that connects you to his, and you follow it all the way down the hallway. The bedroom door is wide open, and you can hear his mumbled yell of a response without clarity before you even cross the threshold. 

You wouldn’t have even needed him to verbally respond to find him in this tiny apartment. You two could get separated on the streets of a bustling city, of a buzzing New York sidewalk, and you still wouldn’t properly lose him. It’s more than just soul ties and his gravity that keeps you pulled to him. 

Something unspoken. Something homely. 

“Sorry, what was that?” you hum as you spy him face-down in the bed, pillow muting him by the mouthful, “Say it one more time, and this time not into the pillow.” 

When he finally properly turns over, he’s a vision. Sleep lines folded into his skin and a bit of drool in the corner of his mouth, eyes squinting in irritation not at you but the sunlight flooding in through the bedroom window. Messy hair, messy shirt, messy everything. A kind of mess you just want to collapse into currently, curling up in all that he is from the day’s exhaustion. 

He’d mentioned wanting to take a nap before you’d left for the gym. Something about the summer heat draining him, trailing off as he’d rambled about how he’d probably thrive as a vampire. 

“I said,” he huffs, sitting up, the frizz of his hair becoming a makeshift halo, “If you call the coroner, request the comfiest coffin possible.”

“Why do you need a comfy coffin if you’re already dead?” 

“You dare deny me of being buried in tempurpedic memory foam? In my hour of need?” 

You roll your eyes as you huff out a little laugh, forcing yourself to turn away from him long enough to strip out of your socks. But just as you reach down for the pieces of clothing, you catch sight of the source of that stereo static flooding the room. 

Your shared record player, spinning a blood red pressing of one of your more recent vinyl purchases. The album has been played through, but the player no longer had an automatic stop mechanism, probably from years of use. 

The center of the record is probably scratched, and Eddie knows it, from how sheepish he looks when you glance over your shoulder at him. 

“Speaking of death,” you walk over quickly, purposefully, before carefully lifting the needle and cutting the static finally, “Care to explain why you’re burning scratches into my Momento Mori vinyl?” 

“I’m sorry,” he quickly apologizes, nearly flinging himself off the bed as he scooches quickly to the end, clearly fully awake now, “I put it on and thought I’d just lay down for a quick second, but then the bed was so comfy, and I thought it wouldn’t hurt to take a quick nap, and then…” he trails off, looking up at you through his lashes with big eyes already pleading for forgiveness, “I’ll buy you a new one. Swear it.” 

It’s impossible to be mad at him when he’s looking like this, inhumanely soft and easily forgiven, “You’re lucky you’re cute, or you really would be dead.” 

He doesn’t respond with words, but instead the outstretch of his hands, fingers flexing as he beckons to you. The needle rests on its perch, the vinyl left behind to gather dust for a few extra moments, as you go straight to him. 

When his palms slip beneath your old t-shirt and meet your skin, they’re pleasantly warm. 

“You were right,” you admit as his knees spread, delegating even more room for you to stand in front of him as your hand wanders to cradle the side of his face, fingers tangling in sweaty curls from his rest. Your thumb mimics his on your own skin instinctively, tracing a large arch right up over his cheekbone, “It’s hot as balls outside.” 

“Told you so,” he murmurs, smiling softly in satisfaction as he leans lazily into your touch. 

“You did,” you agree quietly, half-entranced by his relaxed face, no sight of pride in the room currently. 

He resembles a cat as he continues to preen under your gentle hand, and you almost expect him to start purring right before you find the strength to pull away, removing his hands from where they'd wandered to your lower back. 

One swipe of his finger along your sweaty spine, and you’d remembered what your original intentions had been immediately upon getting home. 

“Wai- Where are you going?” he’s seemingly brought back down to Earth the moment he loses the pattern your thumb had been tracing, the press of your fingertips into his scalp. When he reaches back out to latch onto you again, you take a step back, “Get back here-”

“I need to shower,” you laugh, shaking your head and smacking his hands away as he continues to barter, “I’m all sweaty and smelly, let me go clean up and then we can nap togeth-” 

“You can shower after we nap,” he nearly whines, finally catching your shirt between his fingers and tugging, uncaring for if he stretches the fabric. A small price to pay to have you close to him, “C’mon, sweetheart. I know you’re just as exhausted as I am.” 

You swear you meant to take another step backwards, but somehow, you end up back between his knees, “Did you not hear me, Munson? I stink.”

“Good.” 

He doesn’t give you any time to react – in an instant, he’s throwing his face forward, burying it against your stomach as you let out a gasp and immediately try to pry him away with far too gentle of hands in his hair. 

“Eddie!”

If it were anyone else, you’d probably be mortified. But Eddie just takes a dramatic deep breath in, nose buried just shy of your belly button, and when his shoulders start to shake with muted laughter, you can’t stop the smile from breaking. Your fingers are still twisted in his hair, still pulling back in an attempt to get him away from you, but he’s resilient. 

And all your faux resistance is weak in comparison. Soon enough, you’re back to melting into him. 

Only once you’re relaxed once more, no sign of trying to pull away again any time soon as his hands once more evade the space beneath your shirt to wander up and down your sticky skin without a care in the world, does he lift his face away from you long enough to breathe and speak, “I’ll have you know – I love your stink.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious.” 

“You’re an idiot.” 

“I’m your idiot.” 

The game of banter is cut short when he goes back to pressing his nose into your clothes that surely can’t smell good. No amount of deodorant or perfume could erase that underlying stench of sweat. Hell, the shirt is still a bit moist from it all: from the walk to the gym, from your workout itself, from the walk home. It’d been through the ringer, and you’re back to tugging him away from you. 

“I refuse to believe you like how gross I smell right now,” you reinforce, eyes darting towards the bathroom connected to your master bedroom, “I promise I’ll be quick with the shower.” 

“Baby,” he fights back, wrapping his arms around you securely, no intention of losing this battle, “You remember that time we went to the fair, and you were complaining about how you were sweating, so I tried to lick your face?” 

Your nose scrunches quickly at the memory, “I do, unfortunately.”

“You really think I’d be willing to lick the sweat off your body but be afraid of you smelling a little bad while we cuddle?” his shoulders drop as he looks up at you, head tilted, almost as if amused with the conversation, “What kind of man do you take me for?” 

“The kind that gets off on annoying me.” 

His jaw drops, putting on a fake look of offense before he dramatically throws himself back onto the bed, laying flat as he makes a fist to mimic stabbing his chest, “You wound me.”

You’ve heard those words a thousand times in a hundred different ridiculous voices. You’ve seen this scene enough to have it mesmerized at this point, down to the over-exaggerated pout of his lips and the lingering of the fist against his sternum. 

You never grow tired of it. You never will. 

“Need me to kiss it better?” you joke as you prop a knee up on the bed, following the same script as always. 

And he hits his queue perfectly when he lifts his head eagerly at the expected response, wiggling his brows a bit. “Absolutely. Doctor’s orders, in fact.” 

“Great,” you see an opportunity, and take it, “I’ll get right to it, after my showe-” 

You don’t even get the final syllable of the word off your tongue before he’s clenching his thighs around your own, knees pressing hard before he wraps his legs the rest of the way around your waist to pull you in. A squeak of surprise leaves your lips as you begin to fall forward, but Eddie is quick to break the fall with ease. Catching you with his eager hands, maneuvering for you to half drop to the mattress while some of you still lands atop of him. 

He has you right where he wants you, turning his head to be face to face with you, noses nearly brushing, “Unfortunately, the doc said you have to kiss it better now, or else you’ll be comfy coffin shopping.” 

“A fatal wound?” you gasp, nearly mocking him. It doesn’t offend him – if anything, his boyish grin only grows wider, “First, I’m smelly-”

“Again, I like when you’re smelly.”

“-And then I inflict a fatal wound upon my lover? Oh, how dare I.”

Slowly, all your insecurity of how you currently smell is simply fading. The entire ordeal has become an art of childlike, whimsical jokes – and Eddie is an artist. A professional at the dance, locked and loaded with his incomparable skill set equipped for disarming you this way. The ability to make someone feel loved, imperfections and weirdness aside. 

He likes you, even when you claim you don’t smell your best. And you like him, even when his hair is tangled beyond recognition and one of his socks is half-hanging off his foot from a nap.

You like him when he’s embarrassing you in public, tongue chasing after you with the threat of licking your sweat away, and he likes you when all you can do in response is a weak palm to his chest (that isn’t even making an effort to push him away) as you giggle relentlessly. 

You like each other on the good days, the bad days, the weird days. 

Disarmed entirely, you don’t even notice when his face conveniently slots itself far too close to your armpit as you two scooch further up into the bed. You’re more occupied with the way your legs tangle up, toeing each other’s socks off properly as he slings a heavy arm across your torso. 

“We’re gonna have to wash the sheets,” you mumble, exhaustion catching up as the two of you finally settle. 

He hums absentmindedly, nuzzling into your skin a bit further as he makes himself comfortable. “And wash away your sweet, sweet stink? I don’t think so, sweetheart.” 

“Oh, fuck off,” you laugh, unbothered as your fingers start to trail up and down his back over the t-shirt, smoothing out wrinkles along the way, “I’m serious. We need to change them soon anyways, I think I got crumbs in the bed the other night with those crackers.” 

“Bury me in the crumbs of all your midnight snacks,” he almost slurs, clearly drifting back off. 

You snort in response, relaxing and letting your own eyes shut. Matching all your deep breaths with his own, a million different last words crossing your mind to whisper to the boy you’re sure is once again asleep. 

I love you.

I adore you. 

I would like to spend the rest of my life with you, if you’ll have me. 

And maybe some of those unspoken thoughts slip out without you realizing, because he squeezes you just a little bit tighter, presses his face just a little bit deeper into your skin as his scruff tickles you. 

The only actual thought you can know for certain that you say, though, is, “Do you think they actually make coffins with memory foam inside?” 

To your surprise, even despite the almost-snores that had been escaping him, he answers in a heartbeat. 

“Oh, definitely. We’ll order two.”

[mint-yooxgi]

Fight or Flight - Yandere!Redcap!Mingi X Tall!Chubby!Reader

Fae!AU & Yandere!AU - Part of the CoDN Thrill of the Hunt Collab

Genre: Fantasy, Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Pairing: Mingi X Reader

Words: 7,327

Rating: Mature - 18+ MDNI

Warnings: Please read the warnings carefully, as this is a very heavy story dealing with many dark topics. This is also all of the warnings for this fic as it is one long one shot that I had to split into multiple parts, and I'm too tired right now to individually categorize all of these warnings to their respective parts. 8 ft tall Mingi. Slow burn. Violence: depiction of a massacre, a deer being slaughtered, as well as physical, verbal, sexual, and emotional, both alluded to and not. Blood and gore. Abuse: physical, emotional, verbal, and sexual, both alluded to and implied. Assault: physical, and sexual, both alluded to, implied, and attempted. OC has a really rough past, really this isn't for the faint of heart. Whipping, both alluded to, and done. Mentions of branding. Heavy themes of possession and ownership. Deception. Arson. Really, there's a lot of dark subject matter. Mingi falls hard and fast, thus, he simps a lot for the OC, but it's not a story written by me if Mingi doesn't simp for the OC. The reader is mentioned to be both tall and chubby, but it is not mentioned often, so it shouldn't disrupt the flow of the story when ready if you are not tall and/or chubby. I think that's everything, but if I missed something, please let me know! Smut: Biting/marking, outdoor sex, fingering (fem. rec), oral (fem. rec), hand job (male rec), come eating, overstimulation, Mingi has a dig bick, sex in a spring, really, it's very soft in comparison to the subject matter. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

P.S. If there are any spelling or grammatical errors, please ignore them. I did my best through many rounds of editing, but some are liable to still slip through.

A/n: I am SO sorry this took me LITERALLY forever to complete. I meant to have this out so much earlier, and actually posted on time, but it turned out much, much longer than I ever anticipated it being. I'm really proud of how this story turned out, and I didn't want to split it into multiple parts because I felt it would take away from the story as a whole. I'm super excited for you all to read this one, as I had a tremendous amount of fun writing it, and I really hope you all love Mingi's and OC's journey as much as I do. Huge shoutout and thanks to @anyamaris and @kwanisms for listening to me ramble and rave about this story both before and during the writing process, and for always encouraging me while writing! Also, huge thank you to @sanjoongie for being so patient and understanding with me as I write this all out in full. I hope you all enjoy! As always feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

Summary: Out of one horrible situation and into another, the cycle of abuse never stops. You've lived with monsters your whole life. So, what's one more?

P.P.S. Please don't let this flop guys. If you enjoyed it, please reblog!!!

Mini Masterlist

An annoyed sigh leaves his lips at the incessant chatter he hears around him. Low whispers rise in volume until the dull buzz of voices consumes him, interrupting his post meal relaxation. Irritation mars his features, his brow tugging downwards as he pulls the broken sliver of bone he had been using to pick at his teeth with out of his mouth.

“What is with your incessant whining?” 

All Mingi had wanted to do was relax after dinner. In peace, within the confines of his makeshift encampment at the heart of his battalion, but it seems there’s been a commotion at the far edge.

“Humans, General.” One of his underlings, a vice-captain under his command, Darius, hisses. “They say they want to make a deal.”

Mingi scoffs, rolling his eyes, “Not too bright, are they?”

“When have humans ever been known to be smart?” Darius snickers.

Mingi heaves a long sigh, standing to his feet. “Given the length of this interaction, I can’t trust any of you to be competent enough to end this quickly.”

“They’re persistent, General.” He replies, flinching back as Mingi turns his sharp-eyed gaze to him.

“You let them think their words had any merit of importance to us.” The redcap general snaps. “No wonder they’re being so uncooperative.”

Striding through the encampment, the whispers finally come to a halt. A dead silence surrounds his soldiers as Mingi strolls through their ranks, eyes zeroing in on the small gathering of frail humans. Darius rushes along behind the proud general, whom stands a good eight feet tall. The tallest amongst his redcap companions.

A red sash is tied around Mingi’s bicep, alerting all to his rank within the gathered redcaps. There is a clear air of respect the others hold for him as he walks passed, holding his head high, no falter in his steps. Some even go so far as to look upon him in awe while others incline their head out of respect.

Reaching the edges of his encampment, Mingi scowls. “What’s the big idea here?”

“Ah, General!” Lias turns to him, a malicious grin tugging at the younger captain’s lips. “These humans insist on making a trade with us.”

“How did they even find us in the first place?” Mingi darts his gaze over to the three standing before him, just over the threshold of their protection line.

A woman seems to be holding another in her arms. The one with her head down doesn’t say much, but the one holding her trembles as she meets Mingi’s gaze. The male, slightly taller than the woman being held, stands a little straighter.

“We know mushroom rings will bring us where we want to be, or rather, to whom.” He replies, almost defiantly. “You just so happened to be the closest in the area.”

“Why are you wasting our time?” Mingi growls, teeth bared over much too sharp fangs.

“Please,” the woman holding the other in her arms seems desperate as she attempts to take a step forward.

That’s when he notices: the tall women is unconscious, being held up by the other. He quirks a brow, unaware a frail human such as the small one could ever be so strong.

“We just want to make a deal.” The man states, rather firmly.

Mingi’s gaze darts between the two humans.

“They want us to take their daughter for them.” Lias snorts, Darius laughing along with him. “As if we would care for such a useless mortal.”

“We know a little about your kind.” The woman continues. “Please, we know she’ll be better off here. We don’t want anything in return, just her safety.”

“She can earn her place.” The male adds. “She can look after herself, just please, take her with you.”

“We’re not about to gain something you don’t want.” Mingi retorts harshly, crossing his arms over his chest. “She has no use to us.”

“That’s not it at all.” The male is quick to shake his head, attempting to take a step towards the gathered redcaps only to be greeted by snarls and snapping fangs. He freezes. “Please-“

“We don’t need one of your kind slowing us down.” Mingi states, narrowing his eyes at the way the unconscious woman sways slightly. Honestly, he’s surprised this woman hasn’t fallen over yet, or caused the other holding her up to collapse under her seemingly dead weight.

“She won’t slow you down!” The woman is quick to protest.

“Watch your tongue, mortal.” Darius snaps. “This is no ordinary general you’re speaking to.”

The woman bows her head, cowering back and holding the other tighter to her chest. Though, due to the height difference, it looks quite awkward. A fact only echoed by the snickers Mingi can hear echo out behind him.

“Oh, come on,” Lias tilts his head slightly, a mischievous gleam in his gaze. “This could be fun. We could always use another pack mule.”

Some more snickers are heard from around the area, along with the snapping of jaws in agreement. The harsh clicking of fangs only rises in sound, and Mingi can smell the spikes of fear from the two conscious humans. A taste he absolutely revels in.

“The human would be safe with us from whatever outside forces you’re referring to.” Lias continues, his lips stretching widely over all too sharp teeth.

Mingi spares a glance around at his men, noting their sudden change in attitude. The eager gleams he sees throughout the crowd have him heaving a sigh.

“Very well,” he turns, beginning to walk away from this whole matter. He’ll let his men have their fun, and with any luck, the human will be dead come morning. “She’s your responsibility, though. If she survives.”

A cheer rises up through the surrounding redcaps as the tall women gets torn from the other’s arms and dragged across the protection barrier. Mingi thinks nothing of the way a faint smell of blood rises on the air, knowing his men are probably already having their fun after bringing the human properly into their realm. The other two have already been sent back, their memories altered forever. If they even remember having a daughter at all would be a miracle.

Entering his own private tent, Mingi settles into his favourite chair. Kicking his feet up onto a little stump, he leans back, relaxing into the evening chill that begins to settle over the land. They’ve still got a long ways to go to return to their keep, the scouting mission having taken a lot out of them. The rogue redcaps they had been hunting have all been dealt with. Traitors, every last one of them. The fight they had put up was gruesome, but as always, Mingi and his men came out on top. 

Despite it all, some of his men still have energy to burn as he hears the familiar hooting and hollering of his subordinates last long into the night.

***

The next day, Mingi wakes to the encampment practically all cleaned up. Some of his men are finishing last minute preparations for travel, their bags packed and stored for easier maneuvering. All that’s left is to secure his own lodgings for the next leg of their journey.

“The human finally woke up.” Darius informs Mingi as he steps to the head of the line.

“She’s not dead?” Mingi quirks a brow, barely bothering to scan the gathered ranks to see if he can spot the women he saw last night.

“We figured we could use her for some entertainment-“ at Mingi’s sharp glare, Darius stops himself. “She’s surprisingly stronger than she looks. We’ve loaded her with a few packs and told her to carry them for us, or else she won’t like the outcome.” The vice-captain shrugs. “She complied.”

Mingi hums to himself, turning towards the direction they’ll be setting off in in a few minutes. He finds it odd for a human to be so complacent. All of the stories he’s heard contradict such simplistic actions. He was expecting screaming, and an attempt to run the first moment she regained consciousness. 

Even more shocking is the fact that you’re still alive.

“Don’t let it go on too long,” Mingi shoots him a look out of the corner of his eyes. “Have your fun, but make sure she doesn’t slow me down.”

“Of course, General.” Darius nods, saluting him before running off to finish some last minute things.

Quietly, Mingi observes his battalion. He can see Lias barking orders at some subordinates to finish packing the rest of the camp quickly. Others appear to be scrambling about, and true to Darius’ word, Mingi spots that same tall woman from last night standing off to the side.

There’s nothing special about you. At least, from what Mingi can tell. You stand upright, spine straight with three packs carried on your figure. Their bulk simply adds to your own, nearly drowning you in their sheer size. Your face looks worn, and tired, but you move around where they instruct you to without complaint. 

Mingi just hopes you can keep up with them.

A few minutes later, the redcaps are on the move. Multiple shoot you looks of disgust as they run passed, growling lowly in your direction. Some even go to far as to purposely run into you, spitting on you as they knock you over in your attempts to keep pace with the company. 

It isn’t more than an hour into the morning when you start to fall behind.

Mingi heaves out a sigh, smelling the faintest bit of blood again in the air. A scent not uncommon in a group of redcaps, given their premise. Though, what truly annoys him is the subtle limp you attempt to hide as he marches over to you at the very rear of his guard.

Again, his men part for him silently. The simple power he exudes enough to silence even the rowdiest of the bunch.

“Are you that incompetent that you do not know how to walk properly, mortal?” He sneers, irritation clear on his features.

“I can walk just fine.” You reply bluntly.

“Then, keep up.” He snaps, turning so as not to waste another word on you for the moment.

With Mingi’s back to you, he fails to notice the harsh glare you send his way, but his subordinates do.

A harsh slap rings out through the forest, a dull thud heard soon after.

“You dare look upon our general with such vile contempt in your eyes?” Lias’ voice booms out through the surrounding redcaps, catching Mingi’s attention.

He freezes, turning to spare a glance over his shoulder.

There you rest, face down on the ground as you attempt to push yourself up. Your clothes are even more disheveled than before, dirt smearing your cheek. Yet, that harsh look still rests upon your face, even as the smell of blood becomes more prominent in the air.

“I didn’t ask for this.” You keep your voice low, but still clear enough for everyone around you to hear.

“Well, get used to it, Sweetheart,” Lias hisses, tugging you harshly back to your feet by the back of your neck. “You’re no better than a pet, now.”

You say nothing, instead opting to purse your lips. Your eyes narrow as you watch Lias retreat from you, hands fisted around the straps of the packs you carry as your whole body seems to tremble. 

If Mingi didn’t know any better, he’d say you’re angry.

No… not angry. Disappointed.

Turning back to face front, Mingi decides to ignore you for the rest of the day. You’re not his responsibility, and how his subordinates treat you is truly none of his concern. Really, if it were up to him, he would have sent those two other humans bargaining for you to join them here in the fae realm packing. Perhaps he should have made an example of you all when he had the chance. Only, now, he’s stuck with you, and he’ll have to learn to deal with it, for the sake of his men. It’s not like you’re the only human he’s ever dealt with before.

Luckily, for the rest of the day, travel does not get halted again. You manage to keep up just fine, only falling behind once more near sunset. Mingi had wanted to travel for longer this day, covering more distance and hearing no complaints from neither you nor his men. 

The faster they get home, the swifter he can deal with the mess that is you.

Mingi wants nothing to do with you. All you are to him is a pathetic little human. So frail, he could break you with the flick of his wrist. His eyes narrow on your figure as he sees you collapse against the side of a tree, none of his underlings sparing you any supplies as they set up for the night.

No food is offered to you, but you manage to scrounge some water. Your throat burns, and your feet ache as if they’re ready to fall off at a moment’s notice. The stitch in your side is finally calming down, and you’re just grateful none of these fae have ordered you to help them set up camp for the night. No, they stated they didn’t want you touching anything, or doing something wrong, and for once, you’re thanking your lucky stars for such a harsh verdict.

Lightly, you rub at your leg, right where you know that fresh wound still resides. It’s not a deep cut, but twisting wrong, or moving around too much aggravates the scar. Not to mention your limp which has returned even worse than before, due to the speed at which you’re expected to move.

Despite it all, you don’t say anything. No, you learned the hard way what talking back meant. Though, that might just be your one salvation through this all. Perhaps tomorrow you’ll see how far you can push these redcaps, and discover if their nature really lives up to their legacy.

For now, you settle deeper against that tree. It’s late, and you are exhausted. Sleep is one of the best things for you now, especially since there’s no way you can return to the life you previously once had. Thinking back on it now, you don’t know if you’d ever want to.

Not that you really ever had a choice.

The next morning brings another early start, you being commanded to carry even more than yesterday on your back. The only saving grace is that it seems the speed at which the band you’re travelling with has lessoned, but that doesn’t stop your whole body from aching.

Two more days pass like this, insults thrown at you by the surrounding redcaps, only for them to take out their amusement on you by either scratching you by ‘accident’, spitting on you, or pushing you to the ground. You manage to get some food, but it’s both rotten and vile. You’re honestly surprised your body hasn’t given up on you, yet.

You start to complain, but to your relief, or rather, disappointment, no one bothers to take your whining seriously. That, or they’re quick to shut you up, but not in the way you so desperately hope.

It’s around midday when you feel yourself lose your footing. The sun is shining brightly in the sky above your head, a few clouds drifting lazily by as you tumble harshly to the ground. The worst part is, you end up landing badly on your injured side. Unluckily for you, both that scar and your bad ankle are on your right leg which just so happens to land awkwardly on top of the root you tripped over.

You attempt to keep them at bay, but the sudden sharp pain you feel shoot up your leg sends tears to your eyes. You can practically feel your cut tear itself anew, a dampness seeping into the material of your tattered pants. Your breathing is heavy, and you can hardly force yourself back onto your hands, your entire body groaning in protest. Every ache pulses through you with each heartbeat, and in the back of your mind, you wonder if this is truly the end.

“What’s the hold up this time?” You hear a stern voice huff out above your head.

Mustering enough energy, you tilt your head upwards at the approaching figure. There’s a brief moment where the sun blinds you, filtering through the branches in such a way that burns your vision with a bright light until a shadow looms over you. Blinking reveals the redcap’s general standing before you, a look of pure ire marring his features as he glares down at you.

“Get up.” He growls, not even bothering to nudge you with his foot. You’re too far beneath him to bother.

A sad attempt is made by you once more before you’re collapsing on top of your weakened arms.

“I. Can’t.” You manage to get out through gritted teeth, squeezing your eyes shut through the pain.

Mingi snorts. “Pathetic.”

With a roll of his eyes, he storms away from you, barking out orders to set up the encampment. From what you can hear, he plans to move out during the night.

They need to stop to eat, anyways.

Insults are hurled your way by various underlings, some even going so far as to step on you as they walk passed. It’s as if you are worth no more than the dirt beneath their feet as you continue to lay there, weak and injured, just waiting and begging for death to finally claim you.

“You’ve really been a thorn in the general’s side ever since you joined us.” A voice to your left catches your attention.

“I didn’t ask to become a slave.” You retort is half grumbled into the earth, brow furrowing as you glare in the voice’s direction.

A chuckle is heard from above you. “Last I checked, you weren’t actually bound to this group.”

Out of the corner of your vision, you see a male, or rather, what appears to be a male, crouch beside you. He appears a bit shorter than his companions, perhaps even an inch or two shorter than you, and that’s saying something.

“My name’s Windfel,” he says lightly. “I’ve never met a human before. What’s your name?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you huff, finally managing to push yourself upwards and shrug those packs off of your back.

A hiss escapes you as you accidentally apply to much pressure to your right side, hand grasping over where that reopened cut resides. The dull throbbing you can feel, mixed in with the sight of days old blood and dirt only has you wincing. The wound is more than likely infected, and probably has been for the past few days. Only, you don’t have anything to treat it with, and it’s not like you can go around asking for help.

“Oh, you’re more clever than we give you credit for.” He grins. “You must know that telling a fae your true name means they have complete power over you.”

“You’re the ones who assumed me incompetent in the first place.” Your retort is low, and almost immediately, you flinch, as if bracing yourself for an impact of some sorts.

Again, he only chuckles. “That we did.”

“Is there something you want, Windfel?” The question is a bit harsh, despite you avoiding his gaze.

“Not in particular at the moment,” he hums. “I’m simply satisfying a mere curiosity. I’ve read a lot about you humans, thanks to the experiments in the Latha Court.”

“You experiment on humans?” Your eyes widen, a surge of panic washing through you.

“Yes.” He replies, somewhat cheerfully with a nod of his head. “We learn a lot about your kind that way.”

“You’re despicable.” A shudder caresses your spine.

“So I’ve been told.” He grins. “I am a redcap, you know.”

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice him tip a flat cap stained dark red in your direction.

“I’m aware.” Your answer is blunt as you attempt to stand to your feet. You don’t get very far, for you immediately fall back onto your ass as your arms give out beneath you.

A small ‘oof’ escapes you as you land on your right side, eyes squeezing shut as more tears spring up from beneath where you’ve always tried to hide them.

“You’re not looking so good,” he observes.

“Thanks for noticing.” A low grumble is all he receives in response as you attempt to push yourself upwards once more.

Another chuckle. “I like your sense of humour.”

A side-eyed look is sent his way curtesy of you, “If you want to call it that.”

“Come on, I’ll help you.” He goes to lift you to your feet.

Immediately, you cower away from him, a brief panic filling your gaze as you fixate on his hands.

“I have no intentions of harming you right now.” He replies, somewhat calmly.

“Why are you trying to help me?” You eye him cautiously.

He shrugs. “I’m bored.”

As much as you don’t appreciate his answer, you have no better options. Somewhat reluctantly, you allow him to help you to your feet, guiding you to a tent already prepped and ready. He lifts the flap, allowing you to stumble your way inside and sitting in a chair as per his instruction.

The tent is large enough to fit three people comfortable, appearing more spacious on the inside than from the outside. You suppose it has to do with the magic of the fae, considering they’re able to store everything and carry it so efficiently in such packs, no larger than what you’re used to calling knapsacks.

“You know, you really have caused a great deal of annoyance for our general since your arrival.” He says as he grabs a roll of white medical cloth from a little side table.

“I never asked for this.” You mumble, keeping your head down.

“I’m aware you were brought unconscious into our ranks.” Windfel replies. “Is there a reason for that?”

“Not that I’m obliged to tell you.” Your eyes narrow suspiciously, watching every movement he makes closely.

You highly doubt anyone will come to your aid if you decide to scream for help.

“Just making conversation,” he responds, lifting his hands lightly in front of himself in a shrug. “I’m not a healer, so all I’m willing to do is let you wrap that wound. If you’re lucky, you won’t have to dress it when we get back to the keep.”

You purse your lips, eyeing Windfel as he places the roll of cloth beside you. A moment later, and he’s moving around the tent, rummaging through his own pack and pulling out a fresh pair of clothes.

“What, exactly, is this ‘keep’ you all continuously talk about?” You ask, somewhat warily.

He completely ignores your question, tossing the spare clothes at you.

“I don’t use these anymore, and although we typically enjoy the smell of blood, we don’t enjoy when wounds fester.” His nose crinkles along with his words. “There’s a small stream about a quarter of a mile to the northeast. I’ll take you there once you’re ready.”

“You’re being awful nice to me for someone who doesn’t like my kind,” You observe, eyeing him carefully.

“I care about my general, and anything I can do to… lesson his burdens, I will.” Comes Windfel’s simple reply. “When you’re ready, I’ll be outside.”

You watch him step out the opposite flap of the tent he entered, brow furrowing as the material slaps shut. Shouts can be heard outside, along with the hustle and bustle of the rest of the encampment being set up. You bet the rest wouldn’t have even notice you moved from that tree, yet.

Tilting your head downwards, you look at the clothes in your hand, feeling the fabric between your fingers. It’s been far too long since you’ve gotten any type of new clothing. Back in the human realm, the only time you got a new piece of clothing was when- no. You shouldn’t be thinking about that right now.

Swallowing thickly, you look over at that roll of white medical cloth. As much as you don’t trust this redcap, this is the first ounce of kindness you’ve received in quite a long time. There’s a part of you screaming at yourself not to believe it, but there’s another part, a part much more vulnerable that clings onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, things are starting to look up for you.

Your life has never been worth much, but perhaps someone is actually starting to see value in you that has never been there before. Then again, you probably shouldn’t get your hopes up. They’ve fallen too many times for you to count.

Taking a deep breath in, you grab that roll of medical cloth. Carefully, you wrap it in the bundle of clothes from Windfel, and stand back to your feet. Though you wobble slightly, you’re able to steady yourself, and within a minute, you’re exiting through the same flap that redcap did only moments before.

A single nod is all you give him as you stand outside the tent. A single nod of which he returns, motioning for you to follow him deep into the woods.

***

The journey to the stream is slow, taking well over an hour to get there. The distance is much greater than you were expecting, and the path isn’t easy at all. As much as Windfel seems to be ‘helping’ you, he did not once offer you a hand through the rough terrain of the woods through your travels.

“Will there be enough time?” You ask, eyeing the trickling water at the edge of the bank.

“Relax,” Windfel huffs out lightly. “Knowing the general, he’ll probably spend at least another two hours resting. So, as long as you don’t take too long, we’ll be fine.”

You purse your lips in response, but say nothing.

“I have no interest in watching you bathe, either, human.” He says, turning so his back is to you. “So, you needn’t worry about that.”

“I’ve never had much privacy, anyways.” You grumble, but as soon as the words leave your lips, your eyes widen. Terrified, you glance at Windfel’s back.

Choosing to either ignore your statement, or you entirely, he stands there, unmoving, His back is straight as he gazes out into the woods in the direction you both came, paying no mind to even the sound of water trickling behind you.

You turn back around.

Darting your gaze to the stream once more, you notice how clear the water seems to be. The movement against the stones appears languid, a gentle breeze flitting through the trees in the next moment. It’s almost as if the stream is inviting you in, luring you into it’s pristine waters, and the longer you stare at its enchanting depths, the more you long to dip your feet into its calming waters.

“What’s the catch?” You grit your teeth, cursing yourself for being so stupid.

“You humans always think there’s some sort of trick to everything, don’t you?” Windfel chuckles, and suddenly, you feel his hot breath on your neck. You didn’t even hear him move. “I could push you in, if you like, but I don’t think that would bode well for your wound.”

Your spine straightens. “I can get in myself, thank you very much.”

“You are most welcome.” The way you can practically feel him smile against your back has a shiver running down your spine.

A moment later, his presence at your back lessens, and you find yourself able to breathe easier once more. You spare a glance over your shoulder to see him resting in that same spot as before, his back turned as he begins to hum a small tune to himself. Eyeing him cautiously for a few moments, you finally turn back around to face the stream, deciding that he won’t actually do anything to you. Besides, even you are starting to not be able to handle your own stench, and that’s saying something.

Slowly, carefully, you begin stripping yourself of your old clothes. The tattered shirt you wear gets tossed onto the ground beside the new one, your pants following shortly after. You have enough mind to leave your undergarments on, just in case Windfel decides to play a trick of some sort on you, or run away with both sets of clothes. You still need something to wear, and Windfel is still a man.

Men are never good at keeping their promises. You learned that the hard way.

Stepping towards the very edge of the stream, you take your time sitting down. Each movement is stiff, pain shooting through your right side as you finally get a good look at the cut on your upper leg. 

The wound festers, dried pus caked on the edge. The cut itself is swollen, days old blood littering the skin around it. From how bad it looks, you’re scared to even touch it, but a creeping thought in the back of your mind keeps you inching towards the water with every passing second.

You’ve had worse.

Carefully, you dip your toes into the crystalline water. It’s a bit cool to the touch, and causes you to jerk back, surprised by its icy feel. Yet, it’s alluring in a way, as if it’s the softest of silk that has ever caressed your skin. A luxury you have never been afforded, and you take the time now to savour it, despite the chill that clings to your feet as you submerge them beneath the gentle flow of the stream.

In no time at all, you feel yourself get used to the water’s icy chill, sinking deeper and deeper until you’re fully sitting on the edge of the river bank. Being mindful of your leg, you angle yourself so you can lean towards the water, cupping your hands together in order to gather the cool liquid in your palms and clean your wound.

The first few handfuls sting, but you grit your teeth and bear it. With each handful of water, more and more of the dirt, grime, and blood is washed away, revealing the cut to have gotten longer over the past few days. All that running around must have strained it, and reopened the wound over and over again, leading to the edges widening, and the cut deepening.

No wonder your whole leg has been aching. You just hope the infection isn’t already in your blood. There’s no telling what may happen to you, then.

“Oh my, that looks bad.” 

A voice from above your head startles you, and you nearly go toppling into the stream. Looking up with a hand clutched over your chest, your eyes wide in panic, you see Windfel leaning over you, inspecting your cut.

“A few more days and you would have had to cut it off,” he remarks casually.

You physically feel your heart drop, your eyes briefly shifting to your right ankle. You swallow thickly, a jolt of pain travelling all the way from your foot upwards to your hip as tears unwillingly spring to your eyes. Almost involuntarily, you begin rapidly shaking your head, protests falling from numb lips.

“I’m just shanking ya!” He laughs, boisterously at that. He even goes so far as to pat your shoulder a few times, wiping tears of joy from the corner of his eyes.

“You’re not very funny.” You whisper, expression hard.

Windfel blinks, “Geez, tough crowd.”

You purposely avoid his gaze, looking back out over to the opposite bank of the stream. Your lips are pursed in a thin line as you slowly manage to get your breathing under control. Even you can hear the thunderous pounding of your own heartbeat, so you sure as hell know that Windfel can, too.

“I thought you weren’t going to watch me.” You mutter, slowly turning yourself further into the stream.

“No, I said I had no interest in watching you bathe.” He remarks, matter of factly. “There’s a difference.”

“If you say so,” you mutter, slipping into the water and putting a little bit of distance between you and that redcap. Not that it would really matter, in the long run.

The chill of the water causes your body to stiffen for a moment, only for the entirety of your muscles to immediately relax. The chill morphs into a gentle caress, and as you sink down to allow the water up to your neck, you find yourself letting out a small, blissful sigh through your nose. Involuntarily, your eyes slip shut.

“Feels better, doesn’t it?” Windfel hums.

Your eyes shoot open, turning to look over at the redcap who is back to standing in his original spot, facing away from you.

“I-“ you swallow, keeping your voice low. “I haven’t had a chance to bathe like this in a long time.”

“Yeah,” Windfel snorts. “I could tell.”

He makes a gesture similar to fanning the air in front of himself, and you find yourself rolling your eyes. You even go to far as to splash water in his direction before you can stop yourself.

Even though not a single drop of water touches him, your eyes still go wide. Not a muscle moves as you stare at him, your heartbeat thudding once more in your ears.

“Damn, human, you really are uptight.” Windfel snickers. “As if a little water could hurt me. It’s nice when such creatures are playful. Adorable, even.”

“I don’t think many would agree with you.” You mutter, gently pushing yourself backwards and creating just a tiny bit more distance between yourself and him.

“You’re probably right,” he hums. “Though, we all can agree on liking to be amused.”

“You confuse me.” You state blankly, rubbing at your skin lightly beneath the water and washing away any excess dirt and grime you can see.

“The feeling is very much mutual, human.” He replies. “I bet if you lived on your own as long as I have in the wild, you’d feel the same way.”

“Oh, yeah,” you hum, clearly not convinced as you dunk your head under the water briefly. “I’m sure.”

“Oh, come on! You’re telling me you’ve never lived in the woods before? Never fought for your own survival all by you little lonesome?” Windfel’s voice is slightly mocking, and you know he’s probably only trying to get a rise out of you. 

Unfortunately, though, it’s working.

“I think you and I have two very different definitions of survival.” You say, scrubbing a bit harder at your skin.

“Perhaps that is true,” he hums once more, as if considering your words. “But come on, you can’t tell me you’ve never wanted to know what it’s like to live on your own.”

“How do you know if I’ve lived on my own or not?” You retort, eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion.

“I don’t.” Windfel shrugs. “From what those of us who care enough to read about your kind can gather, it’s observed that you usually go out on your own once you reach a certain age.”

“And you’re one of those that have read about my kind?” You quirk a brow. 

The longer you spend talking with Windfel, the more you seem to ease into the conversation. Though the water continues to feel nice around you, you also decide that it’s time to remove yourself from the stream so you can quickly dry off and make it back to the others. The last thing you need is for something to happen, or for you to finally face the wrath of a redcap.

At this point, that may just be a blessing.

There’s almost a slight tug at the back of your mind. With each step you take towards the bank and your awaiting clothes, a small voice tells you to stay. The water seems to be caressing your entire body, becoming denser around you with each step. It’s almost as if the stream is trying to hold you down, to force you to not leave its waters. Yet, despite it’s almost enchanted callings, you persist, managing to pull yourself out of the crystalline water and back onto the side of the bank.

The consequences of staying far outweigh the rewards in your mind.

You fail to notice how Windfel’s brow quirks in surprise, but he continues on the conversation as if nothing is wrong.

“I’ve read a few things, yes.” He confirms. “Knowledge is power, or haven’t you heard?”

“Power is power, no matter where in the world.” You grumble, flicking off as much excess water on your body as you can before beginning to wrap your upper thigh with that medical cloth. Once finished, you tie it off quickly, but not tight enough that it will hurt you even more than you already are. A moment later, you stand back to your feet.

“Spoken like a true scholar,” Windfel teases lightly, his back still turned to you.

Slowly, you begin pulling on the clothes he leant you. The pants are a little short around the ankles, but they fit surprisingly well. Considering the size difference between the both of you, you’re surprised the shirt even managed to pull over your head, but it’s loose, and you’re grateful for the soft material that graces your skin.

“Still, you should definitely try living on your own at some point.” He remarks casually. “There’s no feeling quite like freedom.”

Your whole body freezes, gaze slowly trailing over to where Windfel stands, now at the edge of the wood. He seems to be holding a bundle in his hands, and when you look down, you realize that it’s your old, raggedy clothes.

“I wouldn’t know.” You state, rather firmly as your eyes narrow at the redcap across from you.

“Oh, yes, well,” he finally turns back around to face you, a grin tugging at his lips to reveal all too sharp fangs. “About that…”

“If you’re going to kill me, get it over with.”

Your words clearly catch him off guard, for now it’s his turn for his eyes to widen in shock.

“My dear, why would I want to kill you?” He chuckles, shaking his head. “You’ve done nothing but be forced upon us since the start. I may be a monster, but I’m not unreasonable.”

“Like I’ve never heard that one before.” You mutter, rolling your eyes.

Again, your breath hitches as soon as the words leave your lips, and you find yourself flinching backwards away from Windfel instinctually.

He frowns, but doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he says, “I told you. I care about my general and how much your presence burdens him. It’s easier this way if you just disappear.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You want me to disappear, but not kill me?”

“For the most part.” He blinks, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“How do you expect me to do that?” You frown, doing whatever you can to hide the clear exasperation in your voice.

“Run away.” He states.

“Excuse me?”

“Run away.” He repeats with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “I doubt they’ll even notice you’re gone.”

Now, it’s your turn to blink at him. Once. Twice. Three times in disbelief as you cannot keep your mouth from falling open in shock.

“You’re shitting me.”

“I think the whole point of you bathing was for that to no longer be the case.” He says smartly. “I told you. You’re a burden to our general, and if I can relieve that burden from his shoulders, I’ll do whatever it takes. You’re not currently being hunted, so there’s no reason to kill you right now.”

“And where will I go?” You ask, incredulously. “I have nothing-“

“Find the Latha court, I’m sure those human lovers will take you in.” He cuts you off, a slight twitch to his brow. “Go that way,” he points off to your left with a clawed finger. “There’s a small town. I’m sure someone will give you a hand.”

“Like you did?” You quirk a brow, eyeing Windfel carefully.

“Exactly.” He nods. “Now, you best be on your way, little mortal. My patience is starting to wear thin.”

Though the last part of his words he says in a cheerful voice, the way his eyes gleam in the light of the setting sun unnerves you.

Without waiting for another chance, you take the one presented to you.

“I better not see you around again.” Windfel hums, and you can hear him beginning to trudge in the opposite direction that you are. “You won’t like it if you do.”

A shiver caresses your spine at his words, and you find yourself picking up your pace. Reaching the opposite end of the little clearing where the stream is, you quickly spare a glance over your shoulder. Windfel is nowhere to be seen, and you do not know if it should relieve you, or terrify you. All you do know, is that you have to put as much distance between yourself and that gang of redcaps as you can. To start, you just have to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

The trek into town is a lot easier than you thought it would be. It only takes you about forty minutes to reach the outskirts, and with every step, you seem to gain better footing than before. The ache in your leg is dulling, and your head is the clearest it’s been in weeks. You don’t trip over any roots, or stumble over any rocks, either. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say things are actually starting to look up for you.

That’s when it hits you.

Is this even reality anymore?

Windfel could have cast a glamour over you. You could be under some sort of spell, or undergone some weird magic while bathing in that stream. You have no way of knowing what is true or not, unless you talk to someone. Even then, your chances of them tricking you are high, but it may be the only way to tell what is true or not.

Standing at the edge of the town, you do a quick scan of those you can see. The sun has already set, and the faint glow of lanterns casts a warmth around the surrounding buildings. There seems to be only a few people milling about, and honestly, you shouldn’t really call them people at all. From what you can gather, all these beings appear to faeries. Some have grand wings that sprout from their backs, ranging from feathered to those of the insect variety. Others, you can only discern from their height and pointed ears. The few flashes of razor sharp teeth aren’t that reassuring, either.

The only relief seems to be that all of the inhabitants steer perfectly clear of you. Save for one, who watches you fidget from across the way. His gaze dances with amusement, and you don’t know if that unnerves you more than if he were glaring. Long, dark hair is pulled back in a half-ponytail to showcase his sharp features. He sits on the edge of some steps leading up to what appears to be a shop of some sorts, his elbows resting on his thighs as he leans forward.

The moment he catches you staring, his eyebrows quirk curiously.

Turning away quickly, you curse yourself. You’ve always been used to blending in back home, that you didn’t realize just how much you’d stick out in the Fae realm. Perhaps you really are in over your head, but where else are you supposed to go?

A voice, smooth and deep, coming from behind startles you.

“Are you lost, Little One?”

[artandbrimstone]

First things first 

!!!! Riptide 115 spoilers !!!!!

And if im wrong about anything i am sorry :( also this might be nothing but i need to say this somewhere

Chip and his lack of control over his own fate is so interesting to me. The guy who tells gillion tidestrider “I didn’t believe in destiny before i met you” is somehow, out of the three of them, the one who is seemingly following a predetermined path set out for him. 

Gillion, whilst being the chosen one, struggles with this identity and was exiled, which may be in his destiny but was clearly not intended by the elders. 

Jay has her prophecy (type thing I know its not exactly a prophecy) but it has no clear path for her specifically to follow.

Chip, however, was destined to end up back at the hole in the sea, but barely remembers actually being there in the first place, and yet when he does return to the black sea, there is a message from Rose from a decade prior knowing not only that he would return, but that he would be there looking for them after their disappearance. (i dont have the brainpower to go into how insane that message makes me so just know i think about it at least once a day). Even chips search for arlin, which was originally his own, was used against him and taken advantage of by Niklaus (with whatever the fuck he is planning im not smart enough to figure that out im just insane) making what was originally a goal into an “incessant urge to not only find the other members but also do what you [chip] were told and return to the hole in the sea”.

Not only that, there is also the compass, which is further twisting and intensifying chips desire to find arlin and return to the hole in the sea (niklaus also told chip to stop using the compass but yknow) so not even his desires, his main motivations that have led him to where he is now, arent truly his own. ( interestingly despite rose knowing he would go back to the black sea, still urges him to leave behind the legacy of the black rose pirates and do something greater) 

Even his death he had no part in, no crucial mistake, nothing he could have done differently to avoid it, he was simply chosen and made an example of for the sake of making a point of how fucked they were against captain widow, yet again a pawn in something he had no control over.

And then, when they do finally reach the hole in the sea, chip is led by the compass (THE FUCKIGN COMPASSSSS) and (im getting into insane territory here) has strange parallels to captain rose. He is separated from his crew (namely the only other black rose pirate, drey), made a deal with niklaus regarding the hole in the sea has the hole in his chest (idc if its not there in canon its there to me) however what is he met with? “Welcome home”. Now what does that mean? I dont fuckign know but it makes me very insane and this is long enough already so i hope you enjoyed my incoherent chip just roll with it ramble :D

[archivesofthevoid]

Hiiii!!

Can I get a friends to lovers scenario with some of the Harry Potter boys (particularly George Weasley and Remus Lupin if you do those two characters ❤️❤️)? Any specifics will do, I’m just a sucker for the trope. Please and Thank you!!!

George Weasley - Friends to Lovers Trope HCs

I know you guys are looking for probably actual writing but right now making bulleted headcanons are just so much easier on me and my melting brain, so for now, take this semi detailed scenario hcs about being friends to lovers with George :))

I'm so sorry I'm advance!! these really are just me rambling about how I think it would go,,, I hope y'all enjoy,,

I promise I'll actually write something better for this soon

•So friends to lovers with the one and only George Weasley. Honestly I see this trope as like,,, you're just best friends with him and he's the one to fall first. And believe me, he falls HARD.

•This man doesn't fall easily for people. At least, not like this. Sure he's had a few fling crushes here and there that he might have hyper fixated on a tiny bit just because he craves the attention. HOWEVER - once he realizes he's falling for his best friend? He's a mess.

•One day he was just listening to you talk to him, Fred, Lee and Angelina and all of a sudden when you laughed about something stupid he said? It made him feel different. It pulled at his heartstrings in the most beautiful way that he was almost sure he imagined it because you never stirred up this reaction out of him before?? So he was very confused.

•No doubt he tried to brush it off but as time went on in the span of the 30 minutes you and everyone else was chatting in the Commons, it dawned on him.

•O h. I'm gaining feelings for my best friend.

•Insert him excusing himself to go do… something else. Probably go try to work on WWW inventions or something. He just needed to take a quick breather and distraction. Everyone thought it was normal but Fred could sense something was off with his twin. So he followed after him? He went to their dorm to see George kind of flustered and freaking out and asked what was wrong.

•Naturally, George is great with words /sar so what ended up coming out of his mouth? Complete gibberish. Fred normally could understand his brother's incessant ramblings but not this time.

•"Woah Georgie, slow down. I can't understand you when you're spilling your words all over the floor like this." He normally would have tried to make light of the situation and he still does. Thankfully, George was able to actually get out what he was trying to say.

•"I think - I think I might be falling for them!"

•Que Fred laughing. Also que George punching him in the arm while yelling "BLOODY HELL FRED THIS ISN'T FUNNY!!!"

•Oh but it is. He knew his brother was rather soft when it came to the mushy feelings of romance, but he didn't think he was this bad.

•So naturally Fred has to talk him through processing these feelings (not that he could really handle his own feelings if he ever liked someone like his twin is currently)

•They're both horrible with their feelings. Despite having a big family, I don't think Molly really was there to help them process their own feelings due to having their younger siblings to take care of. And you know Arthur was always working so it was quite literally just the two of them. Not that they don't appreciate their family but c'mon now.

•ANYWAYS I'm getting off track here. George eventually figures out his feelings and yes, its very apparent he feels something for you.

•So he and Fred try to plan accordingly about how to bring it up to you. But you're so… you. George doesn't want to mess whatever you guys have up.

•I will say however that you've noticed him acting a bit different. So the plan the twins had goes out the window once you confront and ask George about his behavior in the next coming weeks.

•He cracks, because he just can't lie to you! Not when you're looking at him like that. So he ends up spilling a confession of which almost gets missed by how hesitant and quiet he gets.

•Thankfully your ears work (unlike mine lmao) and you take his confession in pride. You tell him you appreciate it (which he swears he's about to be rejected just because of those words alone-) but then you tell him that you'd be willing to try. Because recently you had started to see him in a different light.

•He's ecstatic tbh and SO relieved. Like when I tell you he let out the biggest sigh of relief? I MEAN IT.

•This is how your relationship with him starts. Yeah it's a little messy, but not in a bad way! George has next to no idea what he's doing because he REALLY does care for you and he doesn't want to let you down or hurt you.

•Just be patient with him, okay? I promise he makes it all worth it <33

[andreafmn]

Because It's You | Jacob Black Oneshot

Word Count: 11.1K Paring:  Paul Lahote x Female!Reader, Jacob Black x Female!Reader Requested: Yes [@nyctophilia710: "Could you do a Jacob Black x Pregnant Reader One Shot. Y/N was a girl who recently moved to forks Washington, with her father Charlie Swan. The younger sister of Isabella Swan. Y/N falls for a guy named Paul Lahote, ends up getting pregnant with his child, who then cheats on her. Heart broken Y/N goes to an old friend Jacob Black, who she hasn’t seen in years and to much surprise Jacob Black imprints on his pack brothers pregnant ex girlfriend."] Story Description: After (Y/N) Swan moves back to Forks, Washington to live with her sister and her father, she meets one Paul Lahote. Even if her heart had always been spoken for by her childhood best friend, she still falls into a whirlwind romance with Paul that ends with a pregnancy and a betrayal. Can Jacob accept her even in her situation once they are fatefully bonded? Warnings: foul language, teen pregnancy, cheating, implied sexual relations A/N: An eternity and three days later, I finally worked on this request, but at least it's a long one 😬😬 and even though in this household we are Jacob haters, I loved writing him here. Hope you enjoy and that I did the request justice. 💖💖 Also, I'm thinking of doing a part two to this. Should I? My content will always be free, but if you’re feeling particularly generous, you can leave a tip on any of my posts to support me and my love of writing or buy me a coffeeTikTok • Instagram • Business | MASTERLIST If you’d like to be tagged in any other story: click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post!

Because It's You | Jacob Black Oneshot

Moving was something (Y/N) Swan was already used to. With her mother trailing her up and down, following Phil Dwyer until they finally settled in Florida. But the novelty of living in a hot crowded state had grown old and something inside her was calling to the coldness of Forks, Washington.

She didn’t understand the sudden urge to move back to her birthplace, but it remained incessant inside her. Growing every day that passed. Her skin itched for the gloomy nature of Forks. The rainy days, the freezing winters, the chilling winds, and the smell of the pines. Long gone was her love for the humid air, the bustling streets, and the burning sun of Jacksonville.

“Mom, can I talk to you?”  (Y/N) peeked her head into her mother’s bedroom one day.

Renee smiled and patted the empty spot on the bed beside her. “Of course, honey. What’s up?” 

“For some time now I’ve been thinking about moving to Forks with Bella and dad,” she confessed. “It’s not that I don’t like living here, don’t get me wrong. It’s simply that something keeps calling me over.”

“Oh, (Y/N), you don’t need to feel bad for wanting a change in scenery,” Renee consoled. “And I know that your father will be absolutely thrilled to have you there. And even though I will miss you a lot. I, more than many, understand the need to find a new pace.”

“I’m so happy you understand, mom,” she beamed. “I promise as soon as I can I’ll come and visit you. And I’ll call you as much as I can and send you messages.” 

“Maybe you’ll finally get Bella out of that weird funk she’s in over that boy.” 

“First loves are something that are hard to get over. That’s something you taught me.” 

“Oh, me and my ramblings,” Renée chuckled. “Do you need any help packing up?”

“I’ve got it,” (Y/N) smiled. “Thanks, mom.”

The girl packed excitedly, a morose feeling creeping up her back. It wouldn’t be her first time in the cold and rainy lands of Forks, Washington. But it would be the first time she would remain there for the foreseeable future. A mix of nostalgia and anticipation crept through her veins and made their home in her heart.

The hardest part was saying goodbye to her mother. She would miss the woman’s sporadic need to change things up. Whether it was a wall color, a couch, or even a state, their household was always in a constant state of evolution. (Y/N) could never say her life felt monotonous.

Still, she embarked on the seven-hour journey to Washington, ready to start her new life and answer whatever call the town had made to her.  She could feel it deep in her bones that there was a reason moving to Forks was the right decision for her, and she couldn’t wait to find out what it was.

Sleep overtook her two hours into the flight, her brain shutting down as tiredness flushed it. One second her eyes were focused on a book, the next, her head had fallen against the side of the plane and flashes of images started fluttering behind her eyelids.

But (Y/N) could not understand the visions that her subconscious played for her. She saw a gigantic wolf with russet-colored fur. She saw the back of a man with short brown hair and tan skin. She saw tears. But what jolted her awake was that she saw a baby. And the stewardess welcoming the passengers to Port Angeles, Washington.

She quickly gathered her things, unable to shake the image of that baby from her head. She couldn’t erase the image of the child’s coal black hair, its soft tan skin, its unforgettable big brown eyes. Every feature of the tiny baby had sewn into the very fibers of her brain. But she had to squash it down. To believe that what her imagination had conjured was only that, her imagination. (Y/N) was starting a new chapter and she did not want a silly dream to set off the tone for the rest of her book.

“I can’t believe how much you’ve grown,” Charlie Swan beamed as his eyes fell on his younger daughter. “I swear only yesterday you were a little girl asking to learn how to ride her bike.”

“Hey, dad,” she smiled, wrapping her arms around her father’s waist, sinking into the warmth of his body. “Can’t believe it’s been almost three years since I’ve seen you.”

“Yeah, three years too long,” he chuckled. “But I’m glad I’ve got both my girls with me now. Even if Bella is not quite herself right now.”

“Don’t worry, dad. We’ll get her back to being herself in no time.”

“I sure hope so, kiddo,” he sighed. “Now let’s get you home.”

Both Swans rolled suitcases and carried bags to the cruiser, joy wrapping around them comfortingly. (Y/N) had always loved visiting her dad. Even if it was only two months of the year, she enjoyed spending time with the awkward and lovable man.

Charlie had always tried hard to be a good father. He’d done everything he could to fit a whole year into eight weeks, trying with all his might to form a strong relationship with his daughters. He had always felt guilty for letting Renée take them without much fight, but he had believed it was the best decision for all of them. Even if he could only see his girls for a small amount, they would know how much they were loved.

“I have to warn you, kiddo, Bella is not herself,” Charlie finally spoke. “She’s kind of like the living dead. She goes to school, she goes to work, and she locks herself in her room. It’s like she’s stuck in autopilot and can’t turn it off.”

“Well, it’s her first-ever boyfriend. She’s probably still reeling from the fact that she lost her first love.”

“I guess,” he sighed defeatedly. “I just want her to get better. A boy is never worth your tears.”

It wasn’t long until they were parking in front of the house. The night was quiet, somehow unaware that there was now a new resident in its midst. Even the house had no idea that she had come home. Everything was just as she had remembered. From the couches to the curtains, to the dated kitchen, it was stuck in time.

“You’ve still got your same room,” Charlie smiled. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like so I kept it the same. We can change it up any time you want though. Buy some new paints and sheets or whatever.”

“Thanks, dad,” (Y/N) responded in kind. “And I’ll take you up on that offer. It’s been a while since I’ve liked bright green paint on my walls.”

“Alright, kiddo. Why don’t you go ahead and turn in for the night? Bella is definitely already in bed so you can try and catch up tomorrow afternoon after school,” he offered. “You start on Monday anyway, so you won’t see her until she comes back.”

“That’s done. I’m honestly exhausted and will probably sleep in,” she sighed contentedly. “Well, good night, dad.”

“Night, kiddo. Welcome home.”

Her childhood bedroom was truly exactly like the last time she had seen it. The walls were painted a painful neon lime green, the sheets a shade of teal that seemed too bright for the darkness of the night, and books and dolls littered shelves on the wall. She quickly felt like she had never left home. Only a couple of months into being sixteen and she had regressed to her thirteen-year-old self.

She could see herself spending her summer days in her room, playing make-believe, and imagining what it would have been like to spend more than two months living in Forks, Washington. She dreamed of how it would feel to spend the freezing winters bundled up in front of the fire and drinking hot chocolate. To watch the snow fall as she breathed in the scent of pines and damp soil. To know more of the souls that lived in the small town and the reservation.

After her eyes ran across the room, they fell on a little wolf carved out of redwood. She had forgotten it had existed, but looking at it then made a smile spread across her face. It was choppy and amateurly made, but it had been a sweet token of appreciation from a dear friend.

They had been but ten-year-old kids playing around the barn behind the Black residence. Jacob Black had been excited to show (Y/N) something he had made her, his face lit up with excitement. He dug into the pockets of his too-big-fit cargo pants and pulled out the little wolf.

“Mom used to say that wolves are a totem of protection,” he said sheepishly. “I want to make sure you have something that’s always protecting you. Even if it might seem like it’s all make-believe, but good vibes and everything.”

“It’s beautiful, Jake,” she had smiled. “I’ll keep it with me always.”

“Good, I don’t want anything to ever happen to you.”

“What’s that?” Bella had asked, joining the kids after going to the bathroom. She was already a head taller than the other two, and the fact that she was thirteen already was evident in how disinterested she had been to spend time with her sister and their friend. “It looks bad. Like you couldn’t have spent more than five bucks on it.”

“I made it,” Jake had peeped, his skin turning a deep hue of red. “I spent a whole month working on it.”

“Oh,” she had answered, taking it from her sister’s hands and inspecting it. “It’s cute.”

“Well, I think it’s amazing.” (Y/N) had snatched the totem back. “And it’s mine so your opinion doesn’t really matter, Bella.”

“It’s okay, (Y/N). You don’t have to say it’s good,” Jake shrugged. “I can take it back.”

“No, you have it to me, and I love it. You can’t take gifts back.”

She couldn’t believe she had forgotten the little totem had existed. She ran her fingers over the carved fur, the lopsided snout, the painted black eyes, and the slightly sharp ears. It was still as beautiful to her as she had thought the first time she had seen it. And it made her think of the boy she had grown up with.

It made her wonder how he looked. How tall he had become, how long his hair could have gotten, how broad his shoulders could have become. She wondered if his smile was just as bright, if his hugs were just as warm, and if his laughter was just as melodious. She wanted to know if he was still the same boy she had loved since she was a kid.

The next morning, rather the afternoon, she had woken to the sun beaming on her face. Even in the midst of the January snow, the sun was as bright. (Y/N) stretched out the soreness in her muscles, the seven hours sat on a plane taking a toll on her body. She rolled out of her bed, her eyes taking a second to adjust to her new surroundings. She wasn’t back in her room in Florida, wondering which shorts she would wear to take on the ravishing humidity and heat. She was in Forks now, rummaging through her suitcases for the warmest sweater she owned.

After she had gotten dressed, she noticed the note that had been taped to the door, her father’s scribbly handwriting evident from far away. She took the paper in her hands, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Thought you might need some wheels to get around, kiddo. It might not be too new, but it runs perfectly. You have Jake to thank for that. Keys are on the kitchen table. J

The girl took off in a run, excitement running through her veins. Before going outside and seeing her new car, she stopped by the kitchen grabbing the keys and a chocolate chip muffin. Outside, a 1971 baby blue C-10 Chevy pickup truck was parked on the driveway, a thin sheet of white snow covering the car. It had been the very car she had been obsessed with since she was a kid and she had started to love cars just like Jake had.

She sat on the driver’s seat, turning on the engine, allowing the car to warm up. Her eyes unconsciously closed, reveling in the rumbling of the car and the warmth that the heater blew. The truck sounded beautiful, as beautiful as she thought it would have been in the 70s, maybe even better. Her fingers traced the inside of the car. She touched the gear shift and the steering wheel. She grazed the stereo that had definitely been replaced and the soft leather seats that had been clearly upholstered. It was perfect.

Jake had outdone himself with the car and it had made her heart flutter that he had put so much care into fixing it. All she wanted was to thank him. And that’s exactly what she had planned to do.

She remembered the road that led to the La Push reservation like the back of her hand. She had spent so many summer days there while her father worked, and she had been excited every single day she went there. The same excitement she felt as she parked by the beach to wait until the high school let out and she could finally see Jacob.

She found a spot on the beach, sitting on a piece of driftwood, watching as the waves rolled in and out of the shore. Even in winter, the reservation was always just a bit warmer, a bit cozier. (Y/N) had always enjoyed the time she spent there just as much as she loved Forks. She loved going to bonfires and splashing around on the beach. She loved the people that lived there and how welcoming they had always been toward her.

A loud hooting broke (Y/N)’s trance, her head snapping to the right end of the beach, not too far from her, where three boys were shouting from the top of a cliff. They were all tall and of deep-tanned skin, their hair chopped similarly, and something she could only assume was a tattoo on the right biceps of each of their arms. She couldn’t believe they were thinking of jumping into the ice-cold ocean, much less than she could believe how little clothes they were wearing.

Her eyes focused on the way the first one jumped, going straight down with a joyful scream before he slipped effortlessly into the water. He disappeared for a second into the dark waves, before he resurfaced with a cocky grin on his face. As he swam to shore, the second boy jumped and her head snapped to see him plummet just as flawlessly into the water.

“You’re not from around here,” a voice called her attention. It was the first boy. His dark brown hair was dripping, the drops falling onto his bare chest. “I would have remembered a pretty face like yours.”

(Y/N) could feel her cheeks growing red, the warmth that filled her body pooling in her face. “I’m not from around here, you’re right,” she smiled. “I’m from Forks. But I used to come here a lot when I was a kid.”

“And why haven’t you been here since then?”

“I just moved back,” she responded. “I’m (Y/N) Swan.”

“The sheriff’s younger daughter,” he said with a grin, sitting next to her. “I’m Paul Lahote. And on behalf of all the residents of La Push, I formally welcome you back to Washington.”

“Well; thank you, Mr. Lahote,” she chuckled. “It’s good to be back.”

“So, are you back for a visit or are you back for good?”

“And why would that be important information, Paul?” (Y/N) smiled teasingly.

“Well, if you’re just here for a visit then I won’t ask you out,” he smiled deviously. “If you’re here for good, then I’m not leaving until you say yes.”

“What if I say now?”

“I don’t take no for an answer.”

“Good,” she grinned the same way he had. “Because I was going to say yes.”

That very afternoon (Y/N) went home with a smile on her face, a new number in her directory, and a forgotten boy pushed into a dark corner of her brain. Her head had been filled with the image of a new one. Paul Lahote’s face had engrained itself in her, sending a rush of dopamine and serotonin through her body.

It wasn’t long until weeks had passed, and she seemed to be spending more and more time with one Paul. She had started visiting the reservation more and more, but it had never been to see the one person she had promised herself to reconnect with. She was spending her time with the Lahote boy, doing much more than just talking. She was sure that she was falling in love. At least she hoped that’s what it was.

Her schedule had become packed. It had been completely occupied by school, long dates in Port Angeles and the rez, and trying to get her sister out of the funk that had started to make the house reek. (Y/N) had grown tired of it and so had Charlie. Bella needed to make a change, for herself and her family.

Though as more time passed it seemed that Bella had found something to occupy her mind. The older Swan seemed to be in the house less and less, leaving early on weekends and coming home late, mimicking her little sister’s behavior. If she wasn’t at school or at work, she would be out of the house with the one person (Y/N) had seemed to forget.

“Why do you think she hasn’t come see me?” Jake had asked Bella one day as they worked on the motorcycles. “She’s been here almost a full month and I have yet to see her.” 

“I don’t really know,” she shrugged. “She’s barely in the house when I’m there and I honestly haven’t asked.”

“I just thought…”

“Why haven’t you gone to see her? When I got here you were one of the first people on the welcoming committee.” 

“Yeah, and look how well that turned out for me,” he chuckled dryly. “I just want it to come from her to want to see me. I don’t wanna ambush her.”

“Is this about the little crush you used to have on her when you were kids?” 

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he blubbered.

“It was obvious you two liked each other. You would get so red in the face and nervous when she was around,” Bella laughed. “You would get all flustered and tongue-tied, it was cute.”

“Was it that obvious?”

“A blind person would have seen it,” she grinned. “But it doesn’t matter now.”

“What’re you talking about?” Jake questioned, his brows furrowing in curiosity. “Why doesn’t it matter, Bella?”

“She’s been dating one of Sam Uley’s friends. Uh, Paul Lahote I think he’s called,” Bella responded. She could see anger surging through him, his body shaking slightly with ire. “She basically spends all her time with him. I’m surprised you haven’t run into them here.”

“I haven’t,” he spoke through gritted teeth. “He’s not a good guy, Bella. You need to tell her to stay away from him.”

“You and I both know that no one can tell (Y/N) what to do,” she chuckled slightly. “And why shouldn’t she date whoever she wants? He hasn’t done anything bad to her.”

“But he will,” Jake spat. “Paul Lahote is bad news, and it won’t take long before he breaks (Y/N)’s heart.”

“Why do you care so much, Jake?” Bella pushed, for some reason growing annoyed at her friend. “She’s old enough to do whatever she wants. No, to be with whoever she wants. It’s not really my place to tell her who she can or can’t date.”

“You’re her older sister, Bella!” the boy exclaimed. “Why do I care? Why don’t you care enough?!”

“I do care,” she argued. “But I also know what it’s like when people start to comment on who you can and can’t be with. I’m not doing that to her.”

“So, you wouldn’t stop what happened to you from happening to her?” He was blind with anger now. He had closed any space between them, staring her down. “You would rather let her be heartbroken and try and protect her from getting hurt? You’d rather both of you be miserable than spare her the pain that I know she will be in? You have a chance to spare her heartache, Bella. You owe your sister that much.”

“What about you, Jake?” Bella added, standing her ground, and facing up to him. “Why don’t you tell her that Paul is such a bad guy? Why don’t you spare her all this hypothetical heartache instead of forcing me to do it for you? Or are you too scared to face her since she has someone else to occupy her time?”

“If she hasn’t come to see me, it’s clear she didn’t want to,” he said, his voice clearly broken. “But I am begging you. Tell her. It’s not a matter of how, but when he will do something to hurt her.”

“(Y/N) can make her own decisions,” Bella responded. “Heartbreak is a part of life. She’ll get over it.”

“Like you have?” Jacob called as the girl had started to make her way to her car. “If something goes wrong, it’ll be on you, Bella.”

“No, it’ll be on the both of us.”

But they didn’t know that moment would come sooner than they could have thought.

(Y/N) had not been feeling well for at least a week. Her body felt sore, and her stomach felt uneasy. Nothing she ate stayed down long enough to fill the unbearable hunger she seemed to have. She felt as awful as could be and she was ready to pass out by drinking the cold and flu medicine she was holding in the pharmacy.

But as she perused the aisles of the brightly lit establishment, her eyes fell on the sleuth of pink and purple boxes that were yelling at her. It was a hard thing to fathom, but it was a perfectly plausible explanation to how she was feeling. Her symptoms, and the fact that she had missed her monthly in January, were to the book the thing she was most dreading.

Time seemed to warp as she drove home, two pink boxes buried deep in her purse. One second, she was cowering from the cashier, embarrassed as she placed the boxes on the counter. And the next, she was making a beeline to the bathroom, locking herself inside as her father and sister called for her.

She had never thought five minutes could ever feel so long.

Five minutes and she would know if her whole life was about to change.

Dread was the only feeling that washed over her. As the seconds counted down, she could feel her heart dropping. Deep down, she knew what the answer would be. She knew that when the time was finally over, she would l have to accept her new reality. It was daunting. She was only sixteen and she was on her way to face one of the most life-changing events that anyone could go through.

(Y/N) could have never thought that a pink cross on a piece of plastic could be so permanent. She was holding the pregnancy tests in her hand, the two of them producing a very dark pink plus sign. There was no denying that they were positive. There was no denying that at that very moment, inside her body, was a bundle of cells multiplying to create a baby.

“Hey, kiddo,” Charlie called out from the other side of the door. His voice startled her, making the tests clatter loudly against the sink. “What was that? Is everything okay, (Y/N)?”

“Uh, yeah, dad,” she choked out as she finally opened the door.  “Everything’s fine. Just knocked over the toothbrushes.”

“Are you sure, kid? You look paler than a ghost.”

“I’m fine, dad,” she said, trying her best to give a convincing smile. “I actually just remembered I have to run out for a bit. Miriam just texted me and I forgot to give back her science textbook and she has a test tomorrow. I’m gonna go give it to her.”

“Okay, honey. As long as you’re okay,” he responded. Charlie could tell there was something lingering underneath his daughter’s smile, but he could see how hard she was trying to hide whatever it was. “Be careful on the road, alright? And don’t come home too late.”

“I will. I’ll, uh, see you guys later.”

In an instant, she was back in her truck and speeding down to the reservation. At that moment, she needed Paul’s comfort. She needed him to tell her that everything would be okay, and that they would figure things out together. She craved feeling his warm arms around him and listening to the soft coo of his voice as he calmed her down. All she wanted was him.

She reached the Lahote residence in record time, jumping out of the car and running to the front door. (Y/N) knocked against the blue-painted wood frantically, calling Paul’s name incessantly. She knew his father wouldn’t be home that night, taking night shifts was something he was prone to and that day had not been different. The girl rapped on the door, over and over again, until it finally swung open.

“(Y/N)!” Paul exclaimed in surprise. “What are you doing here, baby? I wasn’t expecting you.”

Overwhelming anxiety burst inside the girl and all she could do to not break down in front of him was to wrap her arms around his waist tightly. “We gotta talk, Paul,” she cried softly. “It’s… I don’t know how it happened l, but… I’m just so scared.”

“What’re you talking about, (Y/N)? You’re not making any sense.”

The youngest Swan couldn’t find the words to tell him. She wanted what she said to be perfect. For there to be no flaw to her monologue that could make him desist of the idea that this was what was meant to happen. That maybe it was a sign that they were always meant to meet and be together for the rest of time.

But a voice suddenly burst the delusion that (Y/N) had built in her head. “Paul, baby, come back to bed,” the voice whined. “Get rid of whoever’s at the door.”

(Y/N) released herself from Paul’s grasp, feeling as though his touch had burned her. He looks like a deer caught in headlights, surprise opening his eyes. “Who is that?” (Y/N) asked sternly, making the boy scramble for words. “Do you have another fucking girl in your room right now, Paul?”

“It’s not what it looks like, (Y/N).”

“Not what it looks like?! She just called you back to bed, baby,” she mocked. “I am pretty sure you’re not in there helping her with homework.”

Paul’s shocked expression didn’t last long. His agape mouth and huge eyes were instantly replaced by a stoic mask. “So, what, (Y/N)?” Paul spat. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Nothing wrong?!” (Y/N) yelled. “You’re cheating on me! How can you think you haven’t done anything wrong?”

“How could I be cheating?” he shrugged. “You and I were never exclusive.”

The girl felt like she had been punched in the stomach. Her chest tightened, squeezing out whatever little breath that was left in her lungs. She felt warm tears fall from her eyes before she could do anything to stop them.

“I thought you actually loved me,” she said with a broken voice. “Did I mean nothing to you?”

“Look, (Y/N), you’re a great girl, but you had to know this was gonna end sooner or later,” Paul said. “Let’s just call this what it is, a fling. We were just having fun.”

“It wasn’t a fling to me! I fell for you, Paul! I loved you.”

“I’m sorry, (Y/N, but  I thought you knew what this was,” he sighed. “We were never gonna last long anyway.”

“I can’t believe this,” she said to herself. “I’m such an idiot. How could I have ever believed you?”

“At the end of the day, I hope we can still be friends.”

Now it was (Y/N)’s turn to be completely aghast. She had borne her heart to him; she had given him her time, her body, her soul. She had trusted that he returned the sentiment, even if it was a fraction of what she felt for him –that would have been enough. But he didn’t. He never had. And he was asking her to remain in his life as a friend with a sickening grin on his face.

She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry, she wanted to claw out that smile he was giving her. Still, deep down, she wanted him to choose her, to want her, to need her. She wanted him to be devastated that he was losing her, devastated that he had hurt her. Instead, he was giving her empty promises of friendships, and devaluing her as nothing more than a way to pass the time. She was carrying his child and he wanted them to be friends.

“You know what, Paul? You can take your friendship and shove it up that girl’s ass,” she spat. “I don’t want you to call me, I don’t wanna see you, I don’t wanna even remember that you exist. You will regret this, Paul. You don’t even know how much right now.”

(Y/N) got into her car, ignoring Paul’s calls of her name. The last thing she wanted was for him to see her cry and revel in the fact that he was the one that had made her spill tears. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how deep her hurt was.

Only when she was in the safety of her truck and far enough away that he couldn’t see her did she allow the water to stream down her cheeks. It was an overwhelming surge of emotions –betrayal, heartbreak, sadness. All she wanted was to not feel that way, not anymore, not ever again.

In her distraction, she didn’t notice the person crossing the street. Only when she was seconds away from crashing into them did she look up and slammed on her brakes. The stranger braced themselves, their hands landing on the hood of her car, their face shielded by the hoodie they wore. Until they raised their head and (Y/N)’s world came crashing down.

The brown eyes that stared at her unmistakably belonged to the one person she had yet to see since she had come back to Forks, Washington. He seemed frozen for a second. Standing there in the middle of the night, staring at a specter from his past. All the questions she’d had about him, answer in a swift second.

Jacob didn’t understand what Sam had meant when he had explained imprinting. The shift in gravity, the way your whole being seems to incline toward that one person. Nothing else matters but them. He thought it was fiction. A way he could explain choosing his ex’s cousin after breaking her heart. But at that very second, he knew just how true it was.

The second he locked eyes with (Y/N) he felt it in the pit of his soul. He was almost sure he could see the way his world had changed, and everything became her, became about her. In that instant, he could feel her sadness. Whatever pain was tormenting her, he could feel it wrenching its way into his own heart. All he wanted was to wrap his arms around her and tell her that everything would be okay.

Instead, he kept quiet. He looked into her tear-streaked eyes, and he ran. He ran until his legs were burning with pain, until his lungs were begging for air, until his whole body hurt to be near her again. He understood Sam, but he didn’t want to. He had even gone as far as trying to force himself to imprint on Bella, that way he could forget the void that (Y/N) had created in his heart.

(Y/N) had avoided him for over a month. She had come home, and she had yet to even show her face to say hello to his father. She had preferred to run to the arms of Paul Lahote and forget the people that cared about her.

Most of his childhood he had hoped for a moment like this with her. A sign from the universe that she was the person meant for him. Even at his young age, he knew what love felt like. Jake had experienced it the moment he laid eyes on (Y/N). But she had made the decision to invest her time with someone he knew would only break her. A guy that would use her until there was nothing left and discard her the second he got bored.

And something told him that’s exactly what Paul had done.

He didn’t know where he was going until he was standing in front of the blue-colored door, banging loudly against it. “Paul!” Jake screamed. “Open this god-dammed door!”

“What the hell is up with people tonight?” Paul grumbled as he swung the door open. “What the hell do you want, Jacob?”

“What did you do to (Y/N)?” the boy said, fuming.

“What’re you talking about, Jake?” Paul pretended. “I haven’t done anything.”

“I just saw her, driving away and absolutely destroyed,” he seethed. “So, I’m gonna ask you again. What the hell did you do to her?” 

“Why do you suddenly care about her, Jacob? It’s been over a month, and you haven’t even said hello to her,” he deflected, a mischievous laugh leaving his mouth. “Could it be because you just imprinted on her? Maybe you should be worrying about that rather than trying to pick a fight with me.”

“We’re not talking about me, right now. Now, I’ll be the bigger man and not access your thoughts, because I don’t need them to know what a jackass you are and that you’re the one that hurt her,” Jacob retorted, squaring up to Paul and staring him down. “So, I will ask you one last time before I beat the shit out of you for absolutely no reason, what the fuck did you do to (Y/N)?”

“I just reminded her that what was happening between us was just a bit of fun,” he shrugged, chuckling. “It’s not my fault she built up a whole fantasy in her head about us.”

“She was in love with you, and you broke her heart,” Jake scoffed. “Tell me was it worth it?”

“What was worth it?”

“Losing the best girl you could’ve had by your side all for a night of fun.”

(Y/N) didn’t take much time to dwell on why Jake had run away, or why her heart wrenched tighter as he left. She could only process one thing at a time and the most pressing matter was the fact that she was pregnant, the baby’s father had cheated on her –or sort of cheated—and she was left to decide what to do all by herself.

The second she got back home, she ran up the stairs and into her room. Once more ignoring her father’s calls to her name. She simply wanted to sink into her bed and disappear, to make every bad thing that had occurred in the last hour disappear. If that was only a fraction of how her sister was feeling, she never wanted to know the expanse of that pain. All she wanted was for things to stop.

“Hey, kiddo. Can I come in?” Charlie knocked softly on her door. He couldn’t bring himself to pass the threshold. Not without her confirmation. It wasn’t until she nodded softly, her face mostly shielded by the pillow she held tightly, that he entered the room. “Talk to me, (Y/N), what’s going on? And I’m assuming this isn’t about a textbook.”

“It’s not,” (Y/N)’s broken voice peeped. “I screwed up, dad.”

Charlie sat beside her on the bed, wrapping his arms around her. She shifted her hold from the pillow to her father, enjoying the comforting warmth from his body, allowing it to ease the pain she felt. As she settled against him, he had started rubbing her back, letting her empty herself of tears on him.

“What happened, kiddo?” he said, trying his best to not let his voice break as he stared at his youngest daughter. It was the first time he had seen her so distraught, and it broke him just as much as he had broken when Bella had been in that kind of pain. “I’m sure we can fix whatever it is, but you’ve gotta talk to me, kid. I can’t fix it if you don’t talk.”

“You’re gonna hate me for it,” she sobbed. “And I can’t take you hating me, dad.”

“Honey, there is absolutely nothing in this world you can do that will ever make me hate you,” he said, staring deeply into her reddened eyes, a hand on her wet cheek. “Even if you tell me right now that you’ve killed someone, I could never hate you.” 

“You can’t say that, dad,” she chuckled. “You’re the sheriff.”

“No, but it made you laugh,” he smiled. “Now, come on, tell me what’s wrong, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) finally sat up, unable to face her father as she confessed what happened. She could not witness the look of disappointment she was sure would befall on his face. “I found out I was pregnant tonight,” she sighed defeatedly. “I went to see the father when I told you I was going to Miriam’s house, but I caught him cheating and I couldn’t even tell him. And now, I’m pregnant and alone, and I don’t know what to do, dad. I’m so scared.”

Instead of anger and displeasure, her father surprised her by wrapping her in a tight embrace. He cooed her as she sobbed into the hug, letting herself fall apart in Charlie’s arms. She had been so sure that he would yell at her, chastise her for being a stupid child. But he had never been that type of man, and he never would be. “Oh, honey,” he said as he smoothed down her hair. “You’re not alone, kiddo. You’re never going to be alone in anything as long as I’m around.”

“I screwed up, dad,” she cried against his chest. “I don’t know what to do and I’m terrified.”

“Well, we’ll go to the doctor as soon as we can and we can weigh out your options,” he offered. “It’s up to you whether you wanna keep it, if you wanna give it up for adoption, or if you don’t wanna have it at all.” 

“I don’t… I don’t think I wanna give it up, dad,” (Y/N) responded sheepishly. It was the first thing she had told herself. No matter what, she wanted to go through the pregnancy –with or without Paul. “Even if I have to do it by myself, I want to have this baby.”

“Again, you’re not alone, kid,” he smiled. “And if keeping the baby is what you want then that’s what we’ll do.”

“He’s right, (Y/N),” Bella added. She joined her father and sister on her bed, a soft smile stretching the corners of her mouth. “I know I haven’t been there for you for a while –I haven’t been me for a while—but you are never alone. You will always have us.”

“That’s right,” Charlie beamed, his two daughters wrapped in his arms. “We’ll take it one day at a time, kid. And let me know the kid’s name. I might have a way to scare him straight. You think a night in a jail cell would do?”

“That’s illegal, Charlie,” Bella laughed. “But, for him, I think it’s worth it.”

“He’s not worth even another thought,” (Y/N) joined. “But thank you for offering, dad.”

“Sure thing, kiddo,” he grinned. “Now, I’ll still make that doctor’s appointment as soon as possible and we’ll see what our next steps are. You’ll also have to tell your mom, but we can do that together. You should get some rest right now.”

“Thanks, dad. For everything.”

“You’re never alone, kid. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

“I’m so sorry this happened, (Y/N),” Bella said as soon as Charlie had left the room. “I should have prevented this.”

“There was no way you could have known, Bells,” she sighed. “Paul is just a wolf dressed in sheep’s clothing.”

“But I did know. Not about the cheating but that he was a bad guy. Jacob told me.”

At the sound of Jacob’s name, her heart panged. The very boy that had been in her head since she was little. The very boy that had run away from her only an hour before. “Don’t blame yourself,” she added. “I don’t think I would have listened to you. I was so blinded by him that I would have probably fought you about it. It’s on me that I didn’t see the signs.”

“No, (Y/N). It’s on him for being a shitty guy.”

“I guess,” she chuckled. “But I’ve also been a shitty person. I’ve been here for such a long time already and I haven’t gone to see Jake. I’m a horrible friend.”

“Unfortunately, that I can’t spin,” she grimaced. “But so is he. Contact goes both ways, and he hasn’t come to see you either. And he’s been avoiding me for a while too.”

“I saw him tonight,” she added meekly. “I almost ran him over.”

“You did?! What happened?”

“He ran away,” (Y/N) shrugged. “He stared at me for a second and then he ran.”

“That boy needs to stop disappearing like that,” she sighed. “He came over the other night. Told me he was avoiding me for a reason that he couldn’t explain. I’m gonna go confront him about it tomorrow.”

“Can I come? I think seeing you yell at him will cheer me up.”

“I think having you there will make him more nervous,” she grinned at her sister. “And I don’t know if that’s better or worse.”

“Why would he get nervous?” (Y/N) questioned, her curiosity quickly peaking. “It’s just me. Bella’s little sister.”

“Are you serious?”

Bella was staring at her like she had muttered the dumbest words she had heard, but she had only said what she truly believed. Jake had always had a crush on Bella and (Y/N) was just her little sister. “He’s always been in love with you, Bells,” she said. “It’s obvious.”

“Oh my god, you are serious,” Bella said in disbelief. “You know it’s you he’s always been in love with. It's so painfully obvious.”

“What’re you talking about? He was always hanging around you when we were there, he even sought you out when you came to live with Charlie. Sounds to me like he’s always crushed on you.”

“Okay, first of all, the only reason he was always hanging around me was when you were around. He only used me as an excuse,” she retorted. “And when I came to live in Forks you were the first thing he asked me about. He’s been in love with you since we were kids, (Y/N). I honestly can’t believe you never noticed.”

“How could I if I really thought he liked you?” the girl cried as she covered her face in embarrassment. “Oh god, I’m an awful person. The only reason I went after Paul was because I thought I had no chance with Jake. Now I’m definitely never gonna have it.”

“Why not? You’re a great catch.”

“I’m a single pregnant teen that hasn’t even finished high school,” she told her sister. “Sure, great catch.”

“You’re also kind, you’re smart, you’re beautiful, and anyone would be lucky to have you by their side,” Bella said with a smile. “And if Jake can’t see that then he’s not the right guy for you. It’s not like he’s the poster child for perfection.”

“But why would he ever be with me when I tried to replace him with Paul? Jake knew he was a bad guy and that I chose to be with Paul over him.”

“Look, I don’t know how tomorrow’s gonna go, but I think it’s best if you do come with me.”

“Why? What could go wrong?”

“Just rest tonight and I promise everything will be answered tomorrow.”

“Okay,” she responded, still not understanding her sister’s reluctance to answer. “Well then, good night, Bells. I’m grateful you’re my sister.”

“I’m grateful too, (Y/N). Good night.”

“Night.”

The next day couldn’t come soon enough.

(Y/N) had spent the whole night tossing and turning in her bed. The daunting realization that she was growing a human being inside her weighing on her like a thousand bricks. She was set on her decision. She wanted to keep the baby and she would do it without Paul. But he wasn’t the boy that was running through her head anymore. Instead, she could not stop thinking about what Bella had told her. She was still hesitant to believe that Jake loved her. He’d never given her any indication that he did, at least not ones she had noticed.

“Ready to go?” Bella asked, breaking (Y/N) out of her trance. “Got the car all warmed up already.”

“Yeah, just a sec.” The youngest Swan gave herself a once over, trying to look perfect. No, trying to look strong. “I’m ready.”

The sisters talked and laughed like they hadn’t the whole time they had been reunited with each other. They had both led such different lives at that point that it felt like they had abandoned the other. But that wasn’t far from the truth. At the end of the day, they would always have each other’s back.

Bella parked her truck near the Black’s house, killing the engine before she turned toward her sister. “Look, I don’t know how to explain this, but you might hear some things that sound almost made up,” she said. “But they’re not. As crazy as it might sound, they are 100% true.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Bella?”

“I just –ugh—I don’t know how to tell you this without sounding like I’ve lost my mind,” she said, her eyes begging her sister for reassurance. “But, if you really wanna be in Jake’s world, it’s only fair that you know the truth. About him… and even about Paul.”

“Paul? What do you know about Paul?”

“Do you remember the stories Billy used to tell us when we were little?” Bella started, carefully picking her next words. “The stories about the reservation and their ancestors?”

“Vaguely.”

“You remember the stories about wolves and cold ones, right?”

“Yeah,” she chuckled. “But those were just legends and stories to explain the divide between lands. What about them?” 

“They’re real, (Y/N),” Bella finally admitted. “Every single thing that they told us is real.”

“Come on, Bella,” the girl smiled, not too convinced by her sister’s words. “You’re telling me that you dated a vampire. And, what? That Paul and Jake are werewolves? That’s completely fantastical. Vampires and werewolves aren’t real. Next thing you’re gonna tell me that the tooth fairy and Santa Claus exist?”

“I’m serious, (Y/N),” she said firmly, her sister’s laughter dying as soon as she looked into Bella’s eyes. “I’ve seen it. It’s real”

“So, you’ve seen Jake turning into a wolf and seen your ex drink blood? What about that doesn’t sound made up?”

“Fine,” she resigned. “If you don’t believe me. Maybe you’ll believe Jake. Now, come on.”

(Y/N) followed Bella to the red cabin, her words swimming around in her mind. Talk about the supernatural had never been something her sister had been interested in, and there she was claiming that it was all real. It couldn’t be. It was just too much.

“We need to see him,” Bella said as soon as Billy opened the door.

His eyes ran from her to (Y/N), thinking over what his response would be. “He’s not in,” the man responded.

But Bella would not give in. She knew better. “Okay, I’m sorry,” she said before stepping aside and pulling (Y/N) with her. “But we really need to see him.”

“Girls!”

(Y/N) didn’t understand what was happening. She felt like she was stuck in a bad dream where no one was making any sense. When her sister opened Jake’s bedroom door and she saw him sleeping, the girl felt her heart squeeze once more in her chest. Ever since their encounter the night before, it hadn’t stopped doing that. It hadn’t stopped calling for him.

“He looks exhausted,” (Y/N) whispered.

“I think I know why,” her sister muttered, her gaze falling on the four figures that were walking up to Jake’s house. “Wait here.”

“What why?” the younger girl questioned before following her sister’s sightline. “Why is Paul here?”

“If you still don’t believe me, you’ll believe me now.”

Bella marched out of the house, leaving her sister reeling with more and more questions.

“She told you,” Billy’s voice startled her. “You don’t believe her.”

His words seemed to want to be questions, but she could tell he was merely stating facts. “How can I, Billy?” she said. “We’re talking about the existence of supernatural creatures right in our backyard. Those things are stories you tell kids to feed their imagination. They can’t be real.”

“It is,” Jake’s voice joined. She turned to face him, any unease dissipating as she looked into his dark eyes. “I promise I’ll explain everything, but right now. I need to make sure your sister doesn’t get hurt.”

“What’re you…?”

Before she could finish talking, she heard her sister yelling outside. She followed Jacob out of the house, all in time to see Bella slapping Paul straight across the face. And everything that happened next seemed to muddle.

Where Paul stood in a split second was a silver-furred wolf baring its teeth toward her sister. Then, Jacob ran past her, jumping over Bella and transforming into a russet-colored wolf himself. The same wolf she had seen in her dream. The two animals fought each other, all teeth and claws, all snarls and growls. Even as it happened before her, it was still just as unbelievable.

Once the two wolves had disappeared into the tree line, did the older man of the group speak up. He told Jared and Embry –the two boys she had met that fateful day on the beach—to take her and Bella back to someone’s, named Emily, place. The duo quickly followed orders, jumping into the bed of Bella’s truck, never looking over to (Y/N).

The older Swan motioned for her sister to join them, telling her to get back in the car. But (Y/N) was still reeling. She still felt like she was trapped in a harrowing nightmare, waiting for the second she would wake up. All she could think of was the dream that had shaken her as she arrived in Forks. Because it hadn’t been a dream. It had been a premonition.

(Y/N) had yet to say a word, simply following the others to know what to do. Whatever they said or did, she wasn’t sure. The world around her had blurred and nothing made sense. At that moment, all she wanted was to know that Jacob was okay. The very fabric of what she knew reality to be had been changed and all she wanted to do was make sure that he was safe.

She didn’t even notice when she had entered the little house. Her gaze was far away, her mind completely disassociated from the situation. Emily, who she now knew was Sam’s fiancée and she couldn’t stare at, had offered her food or something to drink, but she couldn’t even respond. She simply shook her head and sunk into the background.

Everyone was speaking of werewolves and vampires like it was the most normal thing in the world, but it wasn’t, and (Y/N) knew that. And it seemed that Emily could tell that the girl was finding the information hard to digest.

“It gets easier,” she told her, breaking her out of her trance. “I know right now it might seem like nothing makes sense, but you get used to it.”

“I just saw two men rip their skin and turn into massive wolves,” (Y/N) finally spoke. “Don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”

“I know how you’re feeling. When Sam told me for the first time, I was sure he had lost her mind,” she smiled. “Something tells me that once Jacob talks to you a lot of things will click into place.”

As Emily handed her a glass of water, Sam walked into the house, kissing her deeply. They were the definition of being in love. She couldn’t help but feel it when she saw them. It was what she had always dreamed of, and it was what she thought she had with Paul until the night before. It was what she had once wanted with Jacob too.

After Sam came Paul and Jacob. They were wearing matching scowls, walking as far from each other as possible. Paul entered the house, his eyes never landing on (Y/N)’s. Suddenly, the house went eerily quiet. Now knowing that they all shared thoughts, the girl knew that everyone was aware of what had happened between her and Paul.

(Y/N) felt like the walls were closing in on her and the looks of pity all the guys had given her finally made sense. She could barely breathe, and her heart hammered harshly in her chest. She needed to get out, she couldn’t be in the same space as him. Not right now. She tried to stumble out of the house, clutching at whatever she could to stabilize her body.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Bella tried to draw her attention, following her sister outside. “You’ve gotta breathe.”

But she couldn’t. Her lungs were aching, and her throat felt tight. Already, her vision was blurry with tears “I-I… I gotta…”

“Breathe, (Y/N). Breathe.”

“I can’t,” she struggled. “I-I… I can’t.”

Then, warm arms were wrapping around her, a hand running through her hair. “You’re okay, (Y/N),” Jake whispered. “I need you to breathe with me, okay?”

She nodded softly, her sobs choking her. Still, she followed the movement of Jacob’s chest, taking shaky breaths in and blowing them out seconds after. They could have been there forever and (Y/N) would have never known how much time had actually passed. But at some point, her breathing stabilized and she felt like her body was functioning properly.

“There you go,” Jacob smiled. “See? You’re okay.”

“I think I’m going crazy,” she chuckled dryly. “Nothing makes sense.”

“Let’s go for a walk, okay?” She nodded in response. “We’ll talk later, Bella.”

“Yeah, go ahead,” she said. “Make sure she’s okay. I have some words for someone else right now.”

Jake and (Y/N) walked side by side, neither daring to say the first word. The truth was, there was just too much unsaid between them and they had no idea where to start. There had already been so much change in a day that they didn’t know how much they could take.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N),” Jake finally spoke. “Firstly, for the way you found out about all of this. And secondly, for me running away last night. I’m sure you have a million questions.”

“I do,” she chuckled, staring down at the way the creek they were walking through rushed beneath her feet. “But I also want to apologize for not going to see you as soon as I got her. I actually tried… that’s when I met Paul.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, (Y/N). I didn’t seek you out either and I’ve been beating myself about it ever since,” he sighed. “I should have told you about Paul. I should have protected you from him, but I didn’t, and he broke your heart.”

“It’s not on you, Jake. It’s not on anyone but him. He knew what he was doing and that’s that,” she said. “But I don’t really want to talk about him. I want to know about everything else. You’re a werewolf.”

“Last time I checked, yeah,” he chuckled. “Only a few people in the tribe have the gene. It gets triggered when there are vampires in the area.”

“Bella’s ex and their family.”

“Yeah, and any that are passing by,” he confirmed. “Our job is to protect people from them. We keep it a secret because of the treaty our ancestors made with them decades ago. We can’t reveal their identity and we can’t reveal ours without revealing theirs. And people can’t fear what they don’t know of. ”

“Then, did they break the treaty by telling Bella?”

“They didn’t tell her about us, I kind of did,” he continued. “I was ordered to cut ties with her, but I couldn’t so I pointed her in the direction of the truth. She found out all by herself.”

“So, Bella knowing I understand. She already had knowledge of this whole world from that Edward guy,” (Y/N) started. “But why me? Why am I allowed to know all this? It can’t possibly be because she took me to your place. Billy would have stopped me from going outside but he didn’t.”

Jacob stopped in his tracks. That was the moment the truth needed to come out. He had to confess everything he’d ever felt for her and how the universe had decided to make it an unbreakable thing. All he hoped was that she didn’t push him away after.

“Being a shifter comes with more things than the ability to transform into a wolf,” he started, finally facing her. “You get superhuman strength and speed; you heal faster; you basically stop aging. And you gain the ability to imprint on someone.”

“Imprint?” (Y/N) questioned looking into his eyes for the first time since she had left the cabin. “What is that?”

“In the simplest of terms, it’s basically the moment you lay eyes on your soulmate,” he continued. His heart was beating faster, and he was sure his skin was flushing to a deep shade of red. “It's not like love at first sight, really. It's more like gravity shifts all of a sudden. You’re not bound to the earth anymore, you’re bound to that person. You become whatever they need. A friend, a brother, a partner.

When I ran into you last night, when you almost ran me over with your car…”

“Sorry about that,” she chuckled. “That would have been horrible bad luck. To run you over with a car you fixed.”

“Eh, I would have healed,” he smiled. He was glad to see her lighter. Her laughter, the most beautiful music to his ears. “But when we looked into each other’s eyes I imprinted on you. That’s why I ran. That and the fact that I knew Paul had hurt you. I could feel your pain and your sadness, and as much as I wanted to comfort you, I needed to give him a piece of my mind.

But I should have stayed with you. I should have told you everything that I’m about to tell you now.

I love you, (Y/N). I’m in love with you and I have been since I even knew what love was. I have wanted to tell you since I gave you that whittled wolf I made, but I never had the courage to. And even if you don’t feel the same for me, I need you to know that, with or without the imprint bond, you have been and always will be it for me. My heart has been yours since the moment our dad’s brought us together and it will be yours until the day I die.”

Tears were now falling from (Y/N)’s eyes. She had waited for so long to hear those words and it made her heart swell as she finally did. But she feared he would take them back as soon as she told him the truth. Imprint bond or not, no teenager wanted to become a father, especially of someone else’s baby.

“You say that because you don’t know everything,” she sobbed, turning her back to him. “There’s another reason why I was crying last night that has nothing to do with Paul cheating.”

“(Y/N), nothing you say will change what I feel for you,” Jake said, running his hands over her arms. He tried to turn her back around, but she wouldn’t budge. “What is it, huh? Just tell me, (Y/N).”

“I’m pregnant, Jake,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “And I’m keeping it. And Paul has no idea. I went to tell him as soon as I found out and caught him with someone else. I don’t even know if he would care that the baby is his.”

“Is that all?” Jacob asked softly. “You think that’s enough to change my mind?”

“It would change anyone’s mind, Jake!” (Y/N) flipped around. Her eyes were red and streaming out tears faster than she could stop them. “We’re only sixteen. The last thing in our minds should ever be starting a family. We should be thinking about what college we’re going to or what countries we want to see, not about shitty diapers and feeding schedules.

What is happening is happening to me. I’m the one that’s pregnant and I can’t burden you with someone else’s child. I can’t do that to you. Why would you ever be okay with any of this?”

“Because it’s you,” he smiled. “And why do you think you or that baby could ever be a burden to me?” His hand cradled her cheeks, his thumbs wiping away the streaks that stained her skin. “I want everything that comes with being with you. The good, the bad, and the ugly. You’re all I’ve ever wanted, (Y/N). And I meant it when I said that there’s absolutely nothing you could do or say that would change that.”

“But I can’t do that to you,” she repeated, her voice breaking in pain. “I can’t do that to someone I love.”

Jacob’s mouth stretched into a wide smile, his eyes searching hers for any sign of deception, but it wasn’t there. All he saw was a girl in love that had been broken by someone else. “You love me?” he asked happily. “Is that what you said?”

“Of course, I love you, Jake,” she smiled softly, the tears still falling from her eyes. “I’ve loved you for so long it hurts. And that’s why it’ll hurt more to let you go.”

“(Y/N), I need you to listen to me and know in your heart that what I am telling you is the absolute truth,” he said lovingly but sternly. He needed her to believe him. He had lost her once and he would never do it again. “I want you. I want all that comes with being with you. I want to be there when you start showing; I want to be there when you go to the doctor; I wanna be there when that baby comes into this world, and I will be there every moment after. I will love that child as if it was mine because it’s part you –it’s already perfect.”

“You really mean that,” she smiled. Her hands were placed on his chest, her eyes gazing into the dark brown of his. “Why? Why do you care about me so much? I don’t deserve it.”

“You deserve the entire universe, (Y/N),” he beamed. “You deserve love and happiness, and I know I can give that to you.”

All the younger girl could do was smile as she stared up at him. If she had been dreaming, she did not want to wake up. Not now. Not after the nightmare was over. She needed to prove to herself that she was awake.

She stood on her tiptoes, stretching as far as she could while she pulled Jacob down by his shirt. She crashed her lips onto his and allowed herself to get lost in that moment. Everything around them stopped. The ocean had quieted, the wind had stopped blowing, and the sun had stopped beating on their skin. It was them and only them at that moment, surrounded only by their love and affection for each other.

“Thank you, Jake,” she smiled as they finally broke apart, their foreheads pressing against each other. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear those words.”

“I think I have some idea,” he chuckled. “I have been waiting since we were kids to tell you.”

“Maybe we wouldn’t be in this mess if either of us had,” she teased. “But, honestly, I would have it any other way.”

“I love you, (Y/N),” he said before kissing her once more. “I love you today, tomorrow, and forever.”

“Well, I love you more. And I don’t think I’ll ever be able to show you just how much.”

As they walked back to the cabin, Jake’s arm draped over her shoulders, (Y/N) stopped in her tracks suddenly.

“What’s wrong?” Jake worried. “You feeling okay?”  

“I haven’t thought of this, but what if Paul does want to be in this baby’s life? I mean, he has no idea that I’m pregnant.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he smiled. “If he does, he’ll have a lot to make up for. And I’ll make sure he is very apologetic for what he’s done.”

“You can’t just go around fighting him you know?” (Y/N) laughed.

“Don’t worry. He knows not to confront me with his fists –or paws—anymore.”

Taglist: @winter-soldier-101 @zheezs14 @a-sifu-hotman @sunflowerleii @dyslexiccatterpillar @blackbluerose666 @slutforsainz @kortniec696 @xcastawayherosx @minhaimaginacao @bluebirbnamedjay @sirenheadenby @andreiaafaria @bluetreecloud20 @sunshine2894 @valejewel @mushroomelephant @swidkid @skyesthebomb @esposadomd @nocturnalherb16

@avis15 @wonieeee @baebeepeach @krazyk99 @catgirlpwr @klf1999 @sl-ut @adaydreamaway08 @cinffy23 @toomanythoughts33 @laylaskywalker @fandomonetwo @fruitylilfuck @a-slut-for-loki-bucky @honeywxter @haroldpotterson @kaita11 @gangstalicious06 @uwunuggetchan @elijahssuit @multifandomreader73 @ellabellabus07 @blackloveangel13 @euphoria1992 @saltedcoffeescotch @lowkeysaurus @zealouscookierebeltrash @sleepilysworld @laylasbunbunny @american-sataness @cevans-winchester @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @jstarr86 @coquita @ilikepunsbeth @itsmytimetodream @laury-blackbeak @unstablekay @midnightmisses @magical-spit @ratsys @hopexargent @druigsluver29 @fresita1218

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

The Wanderer: Homesick

This one's a side-story for something I submitted for a magazine... Enjoy! (Also warning for angy teen girl swearing)

I sat on the train, cheek pressed to the icy glass. Trees sped by me, a swathe of verdant greens and deep browns. The leather of the couch gave way under my knees, and I dug into it with my fingers.

I'd been scratching dates into that seat, one for each day. The entire couch was covered in etches now, cross hatching as far as the eye could see. Having counted them, I could safely say they totalled up to 730 marks. That would be two years.

Two years since I'd seen my parents. Two years since I'd seen my home. Two bloody fucking stupid years! Even thinking about it, I wanted to scream.

The goddamn train's incessant noise grated on my ears. If I had to see its gaudy golden facade again, I would gouge my eyes out. Every single destination along the damn train's mercurial routes was a godforsaken shithole! 

Oh my gods, I hated it. I hated it in ways no human could truly express. I'd tried, of course. I wrote emo poetry, sang off-tune songs, and when all failed, screamed incoherently into the endless void. To truly understand the depths to which my sanity had fallen, one must first endure this abomination:

Roses are blue

Violets are red

Fuck this shit

I want it dead.

It's likely the closest I've come to conveying my frustrations. It's also likely the closest I've come to convince my fellow wanderers that I've gone mad.

Did I mention the wanderers? They're the worst. The absolute worst. Psychos, the lot of them. We had Mr ‘Maya-be-a-lady’, Ms Magic-is-real-and-birds-are-a-conspiracy, Dr I-drown-babies-for-fun, and worst of all, Mx Doppelganger. Creepy ass bitch.

If I could meet whatever bitch put me in here, I'd tell them one thing: Fuck you. Fuck everything. Fuck the stupid train, the stupid people on it, and the stupid fucking places I kept getting dumped into.

I hate it all so much. I just want to go home. You know what I've missed in the past two years? My friends will have graduated. My cousin's probably turning two soon. I'm supposed to be in the University of Kristiania by now! 

Everything I've ever worked for has been washed away. What was the point of learning trigonometry when the only triangles I'm ever going to see belong to interdimensional horrors trying to eat me?! I was set to win last year's Informatic Olympiad. I was so close.

But that's not the worst. (Oh gods, how bad is my life, that losing my future isn't the worst?) The worst is homesickness. I want to hear Qi's whining over her crappy grades. I wanna listen to Pam bitch about her latest boyfriend. I want to come home and eat my mom's porridge and study maths while metal blasts in my headphones. 

I want the good and the bad. I don't care if I get yelled at by Mr Lim for failing physics again. I'd probably hug old Aunt Beatrice if she showed up and called me fat. Hell, I would give anything, anything to have my glasses broken by a stray football again, even if the glass goes into my eye.

I miss home. I… I hope I can go home soon. (Oh gods, I'm pathetic.)

Fun fact: She did not get to go home soon.

Taglist:

@coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch @ramwritblr, @urnumber1star, @fortunatetragedy, @bigwipscholar, @ratedn

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west

@finicky-felix, @evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @owldwagitoutofyou (Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

[bella-rose29]

Not Your Lover - Chapter 8 (final chapter)

Gregor finally gets some backstory (been a long time coming) although it's actually quite depressing (I'm sorry)

shit goes down in this one (both bad and good)

ok edit: this is the last part of this series (I know 😭), there's a better explanation on the master list if you would like, but thank you to everybody who has liked, commented, reblogged, or even just read and enjoyed <3

Word count: 4.2k

Warnings: swearing, the mother is (you guessed it) still a bitch, mentions of death, mentions of a stillborn, grief, Gregor sees Nik as a son (I cried writing that honestly he's so sweet), the mother gets her ass verbally handed to her, idk what else there is other than it's only been proof-read once

Tag list: @a-candle-maker, @bish-lasagna, @bubybubsters, @el-de-phi, @hauntedenthusiasttragedy, @iambored24601, @itsyoboo-jassy, @karensirkobabes, @kentucky-criedfricken, @little8sun, @mrsklockwood, @mvidaaaa, @nalie-98, @naushtheaspiringauthor, @notoakay, @pietromaximoffsbabe, @shadowwolf202101blog, @simbaaas-stuff

As always, let me know here if you would like to be added to/removed from my Nikolai tag list <3

series master list

Y/n was having a shit day.

She hadn't seen Nik- Nikolai, since he'd told her who he was the day before, and she felt awful about how she'd dealt with it. It was irrational, really, since she knew that he wasn't Davor, but the doubts about what else Nik- Nikolai (Saints, that was still difficult to get her head around) was lying about were creeping in. Her mother's presence in the mansion at the moment was doing absolutely nothing to help.

"-and Davor says that he overheard the two of you the night of the faire, you know, when I found out that the two of you were 'together', and Davor says that he heard you talking about how you were going to pretend to date so that you could use me for your grant! And Davor says tha-"

"Saints, mother! Stop talking about Davor! 'Davor says this' and 'Davor says that', it's exhausting just listening to you!" Y/n was working on the third room, the deadline closing in far too fast for her liking.

Everything would be easier if Nik was helping.

She shook her head in an attempt to clear her thoughts of him, and went on stubbornly ignoring her mother's incessant rambling, picking up a brush and painting the walls. The entrance hall and first front room were done, but they'd taken longer than she'd expected and now it was a rush to get the third and fourth rooms done in six days. In fairness, she only really had to put the final coat of paint on these walls and finish tidying up and then the second front room was done. It was the final room that was stressing her out, since it needed clearing out, floors replacing, furniture replacing, everything replacing, really, and she'd barely touched it.

Her father had promised to help, which she would be eternally grateful for, but even with somebody lending a hand Y/n had no clue how she would ever get the project done in time.

"You know, I should have expected something like this from you. You're a terrible daughter, do you know that? All I ever wanted was the best for you and you had the audacity to lie to me and take me for granted."

Y/n stopped her work again to stare up in incredulous shock at the woman that called herself her mother. "What? I'm a terrible daughter? You do realise that the only reason that any of this has happened is because of you, right? Because of your failings as a mother?" She stood up, hoping that she looked intimidating.

"How dare you insinuate that-"

"I fucking dare. Get the hell out of my property." Y/m/n wasn't moving, but neither was Y/n, and after a few moments the older woman seemed to realise that she'd lost this fight and left.

~~~

Gregor had smacked Nik for the third time that day, and it was barely lunchtime.

"Focus, boy!"

He felt bad about hitting him on the back of his head, but at the same time Nik hadn't been concentrating and was about to saw his fingers off, so Gregor thought that it was fair.

"Sorry," the younger man muttered, clearly still not with it.

"What's up with you?" Gregor asked, tone softening. "C'mon. If it's gonna stop you working effectively then we'll talk about it." Nik sighed, turning in his seat at the workbench, and for the first time that day Gregor could see the exhaustion in his eyes.

"I told Y/n. She didn't... she didn't take it too well. And Davor and Y/m/n have started going around saying we were faking it-"

"You were though?" Gregor said, confusion lacing his voice.

"Well, yeah, but the point was that nobody was meant to know that. Although I did tell you pretty early on which kind of defeated the point, but you're good at keeping secrets so I felt safe telling you." Gregor's heart swelled at the words and at the knowledge that Nik trusted him enough to share something he wasn't supposed to. It hadn't been long after Nik's first appearance in Taya that Gregor started seeing the man as a son, helping to fill the hole in his heart that had been empty for so long. His wife had died during the birth of their firstborn son, only for the baby to be stillborn. Gregor had been wrecked, despondent and reserved, and eventually he'd moved out to Taya, hoping that the sea air would heal him. Work had kept his mind off of his past, but every now and then he'd be reminded of the two of them and had to close the shop, sitting in his grief all day doing nothing but staring blankly at a wall and periodically crying, his head in his hands. But Nik, bright and shining Nik, had been the son that Gregor never got the chance to meet, and so knowing that Nik felt that he was somebody he could talk to filled the older man with joy.

"Anyway," Nik continued. "I said I'd give her space. It wasn't the best time to tell her, to be honest, because Davor and her- Y/m/n were giving her shit, and then Evalina appeared, and I think it was just a lot to take in all at once." Gregor didn't miss the way that Nik stopped himself from calling Y/m/n 'Y/n's mother', and he found that, despite having known the woman for years, he agreed that she had been too despicable the past few weeks to be called a mother to anybody.

"Well, can you still help out with the mansion? I know she's stressed about that since she's got a whole room left that she hasn't touched and maybe that'll help her figure things out?"

"I don't know. I'd have to go when she's not there, I think. Otherwise I'll feel that I'm pressuring her into an answer or something."

"Well, she normally gets back here around seven bells, and heads out around five in the morning to get the bakery open. Not ideal hours for you to go and help out at the mansion, but I'll let you slack off a bit in the morning if you're tired."

"You sure? Thank you, Gregor. Really. I was going to ask where she's staying, too. She's here then?"

"Yeah. I've got a spare bedroom upstairs. Not the nicest, but at least the heating works," he joked, knowing full well that the hotel heating was complete shit. He'd tried many times to fix it, but somehow (he suspected the owners were Grisha and deliberately breaking it to avoid paying heating bills) it always ended up worse than before. Nik huffed a laugh, a small smile creeping onto his face. "Come on," Gregor said. "Let's get this desk sorted, yeah? If I remember rightly they're coming tomorrow morning to pick this up."

~~~

That night, Nikolai made the short walk to the mansion.

The street lamps dimly lit the way, making the shadows lengthen and concealing people walking along the pavements, but Nikolai wasn't afraid.

Not when he had his demon on high alert for any sign of danger.

Thankfully they made it to the building without incident, although Nikolai could have sworn that Davor was following him, and once they were inside he let his demon out.

"You're helping, alright? You can fuck around a little bit while I get started, but when I need your help, you help, okay?" His demon nodded, stretching out his wings and immediately running off into the bowels of the house. Nikolai sighed, then headed into the back room to make a start on clearing the space.

~~~

"What the fuck?"

Y/n was standing with her father in the mansion just after eleven bells the next day, staring at the empty fourth room.

"Do you... do you know what happened, Dad?"

"Uh... nope. Looks like somebody wants you to get this finished though. Not sure why they wouldn't just... come and help during the day," he frowned, shifting the toolbox he carried. Y/n frowned for a moment too, until she realised who was most likely to do something like this.

"Well," her father declared, striding forwards. "Let's not waste time! We need to get these floorboards up and replaced! Come on!"

The next hour or so was spent doing just that, ripping up floorboards with much more aggression than was needed (both Y/n and her father were taking out their anger on the job), and by the time Y/n had to go back to the bakery they'd stripped the whole room and had made a start on laying the new boards. She was just stepping into her shop when Evalina appeared, and it took a tremendous amount of willpower on Y/n's behalf to not punch the woman in her stupid face right then and there.

"Hi, Y/n. So Nik is single, yeah? Because I would love to see what he's like as a lover."

"Fuck off, Evalina." Y/n walked around the counter, tying on her apron. "Unless you wanna buy something?"

"I'm not hearing anything saying I can't be with him, which is perfect! I'll go find him now!" She ignored Y/n's protests and pranced to the door, but didn't get a chance to open it and rush down the street because a woman had thrown her arm out. Holding the door closed, she raised an eyebrow at Evalina, her other hand resting lightly on one of the axes at her belt.

"You're gonna do no such thing, alright? Go and find some other poor sod to run after, because he is a taken man," the woman threatened, and Evalina paled slightly when an axe was lifted and held up to her throat, nodding so hard Y/n thought her head might go flying. Satisfied, the woman released the door and let Evalina disappear around the corner, watching her go, then turning to face the counter. "You're Y/n L/n, right?"

"Uh, yeah. Who are you?" she asked with a frown. How did this random woman know who she was?

"Tamar Kir-Bataar. You're in contact with Nikolai, correct?"

"No. Well, yes. Well, no. It's complicated," she finished with a sigh.

"But you know where he is? Because I need to find him and the little shit is being evasive. Does he ever open his mail?"

"Um, I don't- I don't know? Wait," Y/n frowned, picking up on something. "How do you know he's Nikolai?"

Now it was Tamar's turn to frown, clearly unsure what the situation was. "Because I used to work with him? Until he ran off into the countryside. Took a good while to track him down, sneaky bastard. He was always good at disappearing."

"Wha- okay." She huffed a sigh, pressing a hand to her forehead. "Well, he's probably at Gregor's, the mechanic. Although he could be taking a lunch break, but I don't know where he'll be if he is. Why do you need to find him?"

"The crown needs him. Urgent business. I'm not obliged to say any more than that, I'm afraid. Thanks for the help," she smiled, heading for the exit. The bell on the door chimed behind her, and Y/n replied to an empty room.

"You're welcome."

~~~

Nikolai dropped his spanner when Tamar walked in and called his name, which was unfortunate because he was on his back, and therefore the tool fell on his face.

"Fuck," he muttered, clutching his nose.

"You alright down there?"

"Yep, all good!" he called, hoping she couldn't hear the pain in his voice as he pushed himself out from under the carriage he was fixing. "Not that it's not lovely to see you, Tamar, but what are you doing here?"

"Zoya needs you. We've been trying to contact you for weeks now, but you haven't replied."

"When you say contact...?"

"Letters, mostly. Have you just not been reading your mail, Nikolai?"

"I haven't been getting mail. And just Nik would be great. People don't know who I am here, stops any assassination attempts. Well, Gregor knows, actually, but I doubt he's going to kill me."

"...Okay. Well, we need you to be Sturmhond for a little while. Shit's going down with the Kerch and they're refusing to loan us money right now despite our crippling debt because they don't like Zoya being on the throne."

"But they were fine with it when I abdicated a month or so ago. Why are they complaining now?" He wiped his hands on a nearby cloth, frowning at Tamar.

"They've got some new people on the council, and apparently they're really anti-Grisha. We need you to convince them otherwise and get those loans." Nikolai sighed, bracing himself against the workbench.

"I can't just uproot my life here, Tamar. I've got... stuff."

"Look, your girlfriend will still be here when you get back. You'll only need to be gone for what, two weeks at most?"

"My girlfr- oh, you mean Y/n."

"Yeah. Who else would I be talking about?"

"I don't know," he sighed, exasperated. Everything was happening far too quickly and all at the same time, and he had no idea what to do about any of it. On top of all of that, he was apparently meant to be receiving mail, none of which had arrived. "Look, I can't leave now. I've got jobs in the garage I need to finish off and the deadline for Y/n's project is in five days. Just give me until after then, okay?"

"We can't wait that long, Niko- Nik. There's trouble in Kerch and you're the only one good enough at getting what you want to fix it."

"There's always trouble in Kerch. Can't you send our good friend Kaz after them? He could threaten them in the middle of the night with murder or something."

"Kaz won't do it unless we pay him an inordinate amount of money," Tamar grumbled, and Nikolai couldn't help but think what a good idea that was.

"Five days, Tamar. And I'll give my most convincing speech yet, how's that?"

"Fine. But I want you going straight there, no detours. We're already behind thanks to your missing mail."

"Yeah, I'll look into that. I have my suspicions on who could have been intercepting my letters."

"I'm going to make the journey back. Five days. And then you make a move," she pointed a finger at him, stern look on her face.

"Five days." Five days to finish the third and fourth rooms. Five days to get Y/n back onside.

No pressure, then.

~~~

That night, Nikolai headed back to the mansion, his demon scurrying across the rooftops out of sight from pedestrians.

He spent most of his time laying the rest of the floorboards, then painted the walls with a first coat in the colour that Y/n had left with a note saying 'Room 4 walls'. His demon was helpful, or at least trying to be, picking up a brush in his mouth and attempting to paint the walls, but when Nikolai saw how haphazardly the job had been done he gave a tut and let the demon wander off and explore the rest of the mansion.

It was strange, how friendly the two of them were now.

Since the events within the Fold things had been different, almost as if now that they were two beings sharing one body they had to learn to get along or go mad instead. Nikolai had previously thought that he'd never be pleased to see the demon, or enjoy its company when it was a reminder of what he had suffered at the hands of the Darkling, but every now and then when it went quiet in his head he grew concerned, or when it chased after its own tail like a dog he laughed, and sometimes, in the depths of the night when nightmares kept Nikolai awake, the demon would curl up around him, offering what comfort it could.

Watching it now, he wondered how they were ever not this close. It was sort of like having a large cat, Nikolai thought. One that didn't shy away from a spot of murder.

The sound of stones being kicked made both man and demon swivel their heads to the entryway of the mansion, and Nikolai paused with the paintbrush mid-air.

"Hey, easy," he whispered to the demon, hoping it would take the hint and stop growling. Footsteps sounded, louder than the stones, and after a moment Y/m/n appeared. Nikolai was surprised to see her, not expecting her to turn up this late at night. He felt his demon hide itself in a corner, the long shadows helping conceal its dark form.

"Hello, Nik."

"Y/m/n," he said tightly, suppressing a grimace. "How can I help you?" He didn't bother disguising the contempt in his tone, no matter how schooled his expression was, and she noticed.

"You can start by going home. This is Y/n's project, not yours."

"Bullshit. She's just the manager of it. Anyone can help."

"Well, she needs to grow up. A child's dream is just that. Perhaps I entertained her fantasies too much when she was younger, but this has gone on long enough and I need to put a stop to it. So, put the paintbrush down, and go to bed. She needs to do this on her own, and when she inevitably fails she'll come home. Back to me."

Nikolai couldn't stop the laugh of disbelief that came out of his mouth, and now he made sure that she could see every emotion on his face. "You really think that she'll go back to you?" When Y/m/n nodded he only scoffed. Maybe she hadn't heard him properly at the market the other day. "You are delusional. You put her down, crushed her, destroyed her, and made her hate you with every fibre of her being, and now you think that she'll forget every comment, every moment where you made her feel like she wasn't a good enough daughter, and act as though nothing happened? No, I'm talking," he said when she tried to interrupt, his tone hardening. "You have ripped your family apart, and there is no amount of grovelling that you can do to get it back. You tore our relationship, too. Yes, it was fake to start with, but our feelings are real. So real that it fucking hurts to know that she has a mother like you, because you don't deserve her. I don't deserve her, but at least I know that she's the best I'll ever do and that I need to worship her like the goddess she is. You don't recognise that you've done anything wrong. And if you ever talk about her like that again, I will make good on my words from the other day. I will find you, and I will ruin you. Because she is the love of my life, and if she'll have me, my future wife. There's nobody but her for me." He paused, chest heaving from the realisation of what he'd just admitted. "We're done here. You can go." Y/m/n looked surprised at the dismissal, but the authority that had crept into Nikolai's voice made her scurry off into the night, her metaphorical tail between her legs.

The demon slunk back into the light, nuzzling up to Nikolai's hand in what felt like pride and comfort, and he was so preoccupied with giving it chin scratches he didn't notice the second figure that had been lingering outside the mansion.

~~~

"Nik? You here?"

"He's out," a voice replied, and Y/n deflated slightly when she recognised it as Gregor. "Went to get lunch. He should be back in about-" he checked his watch, then said "ten minutes. Do you wanna wait?"

"Uh... yeah, sure. Thanks, Gregor." She perched on a chair in the waiting area, anticipation making her buzz with energy. She couldn't sit still, leg bouncing and gaze darting around the room, and every second that passed felt agonisingly slow.

After seven minutes (and thirty-four seconds, although she definitely hadn't been counting) Nik walked in, and he froze with his eyes wide when he saw Y/n waiting in the shop. She stood up quickly, opening and closing her mouth as she tried to start the speech she'd been planning all morning. Gregor walked back out into the main shop after disappearing into the back rooms to fetch supplies, and upon noticing the two of them stood staring at each other, he excused himself, offering up his office as a quieter space for them to talk. They accepted, clumsily thanking him at the same time and walking hesitantly over.

Nik closed the door behind them, and despite the large room Y/n felt cramped, the air heavy with the words she couldn't find the strength to say just yet.

"How have you been?" he asked, his voice quiet. He wasn't looking at her, and she was stubbornly refusing to look at him, but she could picture his exact expression.

"I heard you last night." She winced, not meaning to start there. He didn't say anything, and after a few moments of no sound but the clock in the office loudly ticking she braced herself and glanced up. "Nik? I didn't mean to say it like that. I just- the first night, when I came in in the morning and the room was clear, I assumed it was you, so I came over the next night to make sure, and also to talk to you, I guess. But then my mum was there and I was about to turn around and leave, but then you started talking to her and saying all those things and-" she broke off when he met her gaze, taking a breath.

"How... how much did you hear?" His voice was hoarse, like he was trying to hold back his emotions.

"From around when you told her she was delusional." She bit her lip, nerves taking over the small wave of confidence she'd just had.

"Right." Nik cleared his throat, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. "And... do- what-"

"I love you, Nik. And I wanna try being with you, for real. I can't promise that I won't be wary, and I can't promise that I won't doubt you at times, but I can promise that that isn't your fault, it's Davor's. And I can promise that should you ever propose, I'll say yes." He took a shuddering breath, a shaky smile forming on his face as he took a step towards her. Y/n wasn't sure who moved after that, but somehow they ended up meeting in the middle, arms wrapped around each other as he held her face and kissed her like he'd never let her go again. They parted after a while, taking heaving breaths and resting their foreheads against each other. Nik didn't move his hands from her cheeks, and Y/n slid hers up to cover them where they sat, linking their fingers the best she could.

"I love you," he whispered, pressing a lingering kiss to her lips. "I love you."

"I love you too. Just no more lies, yeah? I'm not sure I can handle that."

"Got it. No more lies." He went quiet for a moment and then said: "Is now a really bad time to tell you that I need to leave for two weeks?" Y/n pulled back so that she could search his eyes, huffing a laugh when she saw how concerned he was.

"I think it's a great time, actually. Does this have anything to do with that woman? What was her name... Tamar?"

"Yes. Apparently I'm the only one who can talk a nation into being cooperative. I've managed to make it so that I don't have to leave until after the deadline, though, so I can keep helping out."

"You didn't have to do that, Nik. Really."

"What, and leave you wondering where I'd gone? No thank you. You'd most likely murder me when I got back."

"I would never!" she exclaimed, laughing when he gave her a look that said he knew she was lying.

"Oh, you so would, darling." She'd forgotten how sweet the name sounded, sending her heart into a flutter.

"Hm, maybe," she murmured into his lips, moving her hands to wrap around his neck and hold him in place (not that he needed much encouragement). They only broke apart because Gregor coughed very loudly in the doorway, an unimpressed look covering up the smile he was attempting to hide.

"If the two of you could refrain from using my office as a room to fuck in that would be brilliant." Y/n snorted, and Nik nodded, both of them flushing at the thought. "Great. Nik, back to work. Y/n, I'll see you at dinner."

He swung the door shut behind him, leaving Nik and Y/n holding back laughter in the office.

[bookshelf-dust]

Before the party ends, I thought I’d request another one!

🖋️ Angst to fluff with Eddie? Maybe he says something hurtful because he’s rambling about something that happened to him and reader keeps quiet ‘cause she doesn’t want him to know she’s upset about whatever he said ‘cause she does whatever he complained about. Even though Eddie’s not complaining about her. Then, he picks up on her weird behavior, and everything ends all fluffy.💜

slumber party shenanigans (ends 2/4)

eddie munson x gn!reader

a/n: hi, my sweet! thank you for being so supportive and for coming to my slumber party :))) i hope you enjoy this!! love you 3000

----------------

🖋️ want another blanket?—i will write you a little ficlet (under 1000 words) for the character of your choice. i would appreciate if you’d specify whether you want comfort/fluff/angst/whatever and i will try and come up with something for you!

"Your nephew's an asshole, you know that Wayne?"

The man in question chuckles, cigarette smoke clouding the air in front of him. "I've heard that many a time around here kiddo."

You hop down the stairs, hoping Eddie will let you leave without walking you out like always.

"Hey, did you just call me an asshole?"

You realize only the screen door is shut, and Eddie, putting his shoes on to go outside, heard your claims. Wayne laughs again at your being caught, and you shoot him a look. He raises his hands in surrender, moving to go back inside and stay away from whatever storm is brewing between the two of you.

You fumble with your keys, trying to unlock your car door, but Eddie bounds towards you, snatching them from your grip.

"Eddie, you dick, give me my keys. I want to go home."

"No. What's the matter with you all the sudden?" He crosses his arms, locking the tool to your escape under his hand.

"Nothing. Let me go home or I'll call Hopper and tell him you've kidnapped me."

Eddie has the nerve to laugh at you. Sincerely and heartily. It's a boyish sound. And it infuriates you.

"You wouldn't dare."

"Wanna bet, Munson?" Eddie realizes that you aren't, in fact, joking, and that you totally would. The boy's already on thin ice with the chief, given his situation.

"Just tell me what I did. I don't want to argue with you," he says, almost pleading.

"Did you already forget the conversation we just had, dipshit?"

The boy ignores your incessant name calling, trying to figure out what he'd done to upset you so much that you're practically running away from him.

Fifteen minutes earlier, you'd been sitting on Eddie's bed, listening to him go on about his day. "We had to do this group project in O'Donnell's today, right?" He'd said.

"And we're all going around, supposed to be talking to each other about what we're currently reading or what we like to read. This one kid was saying how they love romance novels, or some shit like that."

Your stomach had dropped, knowing exactly where this was headed.

"And it just drove me crazy. Because I don't really think you get to call yourself a reader if that's the kind of stuff you read, you know? There's nothing to them! They're just for soccer moms to have someplace they can distract themselves from their failing marriages."

Outside currently, you get sick of looking at Eddie's thinking face and blurt it out.

"I read romance novels, Eddie!"

Eddie drops his arms, looking confused. "You do?"

"Yeah, I fucking do, and you saying that really hurt my feelings. Have you ever even read one, Eddie? How can you just assume they have no matter to them?"

The boy hands you back your keys, running his hands down his face.

"Oh my god, baby, I'm sorry."

"I just wish sometimes you'd think about this stuff, Eddie. I hadn't read much fantasy before you, and I don't know. It just hurt my feelings."

Eddie moves closer to you, taking your face in his hands. "I am so sorry, baby. I was being a dick, really I was. I see that now."

You nod, contemplating.

"Why didn't I know this? That you read romantic books?"

You shrug. "I mainly read them when I'm feeling lonely, but that was prominently before you. Guess I didn't feel like I had to tell you about my filling the void anymore."

Eddie's flattered, really, but he still feels bad. He really should've been more considerate.

"I really am sorry, Y/N."

"It's okay," you assure him. You understand where he's coming from.

"Anything I can do to make you feel better?" He asks, playing with your belt loops.

"Read one. I'll pick something out and bring it over later."

Eddie blushes, but he's intrigued. "You want me to read one of your romance novels in order to make it up to you?"

"And to whoever it was that you were bitching about."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah." Eddie kisses you, short and sweet. He's got lip balm on, and now so do you. "Now, how dirty are these books of yours?"

You roll your eyes, and try to pull away. You were going to let him figure that part out on his own.

[pupkashi]

figured out the juice tastes even better in a cocktail 🤪💃🏻 may i also req the prompt calling just to hear their voice w our best big brother itachi uchiha? i'm back on my naruto bs (if you couldn't already tell) 🤣

OOO I LOVE A GOOD COCKTAIL !! let me know what u think of this one 🤭 i hope you enjoy !! (this is my first time writing itachi so i hope it isn’t too ooc!!)

join the party!

your fingers are dancing over the screen, the messages between you and itachi opened.

‘miss you’ alongside three sad emojis was the last message you’d sent. you knew not to get your hopes up, he was busy and hard working. it’s why he’s been gone almost a month now.

with a sigh you’re setting your phone down, getting comfortable under the blanket you’re wrapped in, not expecting the incessant buzzing coming from your phone.

itachi’s contact picture flashes on the screen and you can feel your stomach doing flips as you answer.

“‘tachi? thought you were busy?” you ask, a wide smile on your face as he laughs on the other end.

“made up some excuse so i could leave early, just wanted to hear your voice again” there’s a wide smile on his face when he hears your giggle, he doesn’t care how insane he looks leaning against the wall and swinging his feet. “i miss you much my love” he sighs, wanting nothing more than crawl through the phone and drown you in kisses.

“i miss you too pretty boy” you sigh, “it’s so boring without you here” pouting as you recall your day to him, rambling on and on about the smallest things.

he never once interrupts you, clinging onto your every word and memorizing the inflections of your voice, trying to figure out the new slang you’d started using.

“how was your day?” you ask, he wishes he could come home to you already. he can imagine the way your eyes are sparkling right now, intently listening to him as he replies.

“wouldve been better if you were here” the smile in his voice can be heard through the phone and it’s making your cheeks burn. “i have to go take care of something, but I’ll call you when i can” he sighs, chest tightening as you give him a deflated ‘goodbye.’

“i love you sweetheart, I’ll be back before you know it” he assures you, hands itching to hood you once more.

“i love you more, lover” you smile, “come back to me soon.”

the dial tone rings too loudly in your ears, a cruel reminder that your lover was a ways away. but as your head rests in the pillow below you and you take in the home you’ve built together you find yourself at peace.

he always comes home to you, he always would.

[psalacanthea]

WiP Wednesday

I'm working on things! :) I'm still not 100%, but making progress makes me happy. This is for the game canon f!tav x astarion fic which I am currently working on as ordered to.

Dissonance and Debauchery: The Drama of an Ill-Fated Bard

Some foreplay interruptus for you on this mid-week day. hope you enjoy!

...

“If I say no biting…will that ruin things for you?”  she asked curiously.  Because, if so, she’d give in to him.  Give him the blood.  But tomorrow when she was thinking clearly, she’d probably break things off with him.  Too transactional for her to have as much fun as she’d like.

“Mmh…”  His smile he mused through was stiff at the corners, but it quickly relaxed.  Softened playfully.  “No, darling, it won’t. No biting, I swear.”

“You are allowed to pout, whine, beg, or in moderation sulk about it,” she said, noting that slight lie in his smile.  “But no being snippy, secretly angry, or broody about it.  And you’re not allowed to pretend to be fine with it if you’re not.”

Astarion gave her a bizarrely astonished look, leaning back.  His forehead furrowed.  “What is it with you and making rules?”

Gods, the man was dense.  Zyn rolled her eyes excessively and dramatically with her head thrown back, ignoring Astarion’s small sound of outrage at her disrespect.  “It is what I enjoy, milord.  Only a morally bankrupt man would feel otherwise, so I hesitate to call it a fetish–”

“You sound like Gale when you talk like that,”  Astarion said snidely.

Zyn gasped, sitting bolt upright as she shoved him onto his back.  “How dare you!”

He smirked up at her, eyes rolling to the side as he splayed out on her bedroll dramatically.  She hadn’t been that rough!  Zyn glared at him, and his smirk deepened, scarlet eyes a deep, stormy gray in the quiet darkness of the tent.

“I didn’t think ‘moral purity’ was your vice, darling.”

“Oh, no.”  Sitting back on her heels, she pushed her hair out of her face, staring down at him.  “It’s not about good, it’s about fun, Astarion.  And it’s most fun for me when everyone is enjoying themselves as much as possible.  I need it.  I want to bask in your enjoyment.”

He laughed, arm draping diagonally across her lap, fingers caressing the curve of her thigh.  “You’re insane.”

“Please, I need your applause,” she begged dramatically, leaning over him.  “I need to know my performance has pleased you!  Otherwise what’s the point in play at all?”

He groaned, unoccupied hand splaying across his face, covering his eyes.  “Why do I let you monologue?  You work yourself up into a dramatic frenzy every time.”

“Your denial of our mutual tomfoolery is hurting my feelings, sweet viper.”

Astarion sat up abruptly– so abruptly that she nearly reared back, eyes wide.  As her head jerked back, he followed her, bringing them nearly nose to nose.  He didn’t broach the last space between them, but she could practically feel his lips curve up into a smile.

“I’ve indulged your bizarre form of foreplay enough.  The lights are off.”

“No~o,” she complained, throwing her head back again.  

“The audience is gone,” he declared sternly, but she felt him laugh at her pathetic whine.  He threw a knee over her hip, forcing her down on her back as he lowered himself onto her.  “All of your incessant disguises and masks are off.  And now it’s time for the noisy little fox to leave her stage and occupy her mouth otherwise.”  

Zyn couldn’t help the wicked giggle that escaped her.  “No masks at all, milord?”

“Mmh,” he mused, tilting his head to the side with a purse of his lips.  “No, I suppose that one can stay.  Just for tonight.”

She was laughing when he kissed her.

It was fierce and unexpected, her smiling lips claimed with a passionate greed.  Melting underneath him, she happily, wantonly threw her arms around his neck.  Now this was worthy of interrupting her show. As if in punishment for her 'endless rambling', there was no break in the kiss, no space to take a frantic breath.

He kissed her like the breath from her lungs could bring him back to life again.

[pleiades-cabin-talk]

Hello...?

Right ah, hello there!

I've been a little restless as of late and remembered that a good old friend of mine used to use this site? So I figured I'd give this a try.

Okay, I guess introductions are in order?

My name is Rose, I use They/He pronouns. I've gone by all sorts of names by now, but Rose is the one that just kind of...stuck.

Anyway. I'm 24 and I work on and off on the ships of the cruiseline Pleiades. Have for years now. I rotate between them, but my main post tends to be up on the Andromeda, the largest amongst her sisterships.

They all have different routes, though most of them stay out on the sea for multible days at a time between stops and honestly it's the most peace you can find. Out in the open, with nothing but sky and sea in sight. Endless expanses of nothingness with no idea of what lurks below or above at all times. Something about that has always been reassuring to me.

I liked the ocean first, I think. Felt like it was calling to me. When I was younger I'd go on vacation often with my parents, we'd end up near some beach or another most times. I never wanted to leave. Stayed in the arms of the sea as long as I could. The stars and with it space, came later in my teens. Both stuck till now, and here we are. Couldn't have asked for a better place to work than this, to be honest.

Gosh, I am rambling again...ah.

Well, I suppose this blog is meant to serve as a sort of...not diary, but log of some of the happenings on the ships, I suppose?

There's always plenty to do here, plenty happening, incessant as the call, that tug in my chest may be.

Join me out here for a chat?

______

OCC: Hola! This is an rp blog!! Rose is an Avatar of the Vast and heavily marked by the Lonely. Slight Eye touch, but mainly because of them remembering a Timeline that doesn't exist anymore. They are calm most of the time, though can get rather excitable and even flirty at times.

He is afab, curvy and a bit chubby with dirty blonde, wavy hair down to about the middle of their back and has moss green eyes, if that info is needed? 5'8.

Rose's own Timeline kind of...hit the fan a few years back. the new one seems to be the same, but they've yet to find someone who remembers like him. They feel erased, all friends they'd tried to reach for not knowing him. Not to mention that, this time? It seems the Fears are more than fiction...

_

I've never done an rp on tumblr, so please bare with me!!

Contentwarnings for: possible mentions of falling, drowning, helplessness, isolation, legal and non drugs and abuse (verbal and in the past, it's parental)

I'm mainly aiming for sfw, but willing to do nsfw if discussed beforehand.

Flirting is perfectly fine, and if there is anything you're unsure of, just ask!

Okay I think this is it for now? May update if need be.

Update: when my text is blue, it is for rp purposes, my 'canon typical' posts and the like will be in the normal white! This is to keep things more easily separated.

Purple and cursive is for little snippits of Rose's past present and future, meant to just aid in extra info one may want to use, or just to enjoy getting to know a little bit more.

Asks are more than welcome!! I love them, always open for them! Dms are also open for rp purposes ald discussing ideas or just questions!

[i-hate-people-1]

This is the final part of my Warren Rojas fic I know it’s been a while but I wanted to do this series justice hopefully y’all enjoy it! thank you so much for reading you have no idea how much it means to me!

It's a little under 3.k words and it's a little spicy towards the end but there’s nothing explicit

Warren Rojas x reader

Masterlist

Not my gif

Warren                                                                  

"Look, I know what you’re thinking, but I had to come up with a way to tell her that I really did love her, and it wasn't just drunken rambling.”

“I think you should just tell her how you feel.” Karen sighed.

“He can't do that,” Eddie laughed.

“Why not girls like that? Besides, you know that she feels the same way,” Karen said, looking at the boy, exasperated.

“I know, but she said, I think what if now she thinks that she hates me?” Warren told them, falling dramatically onto the couch face first as Karen and Eddie laughed at him.

It's been two weeks. TWO WEEKS! Since Warren said he loved you, he still hasn't said anything. absolutely nothing.

You've still been hanging out every day. He’s just done nothing, and it’s killing you!

Every time he opens his mouth, you pray it’s those three words you oh so want to hear, but nothing!

Your strategy has been waiting things out, but enough is enough. Whoever said a girl can’t make the first move?

And you were so sure it was going to happen right up until you knocked on the door because you swear every bit of courage that’s ever been in your body just took a vacation. With no notice, your palms started sweating, and there was this quiet, incessant ringing in your ears as your brain came up with every possible way this could go wrong and then some.

But just as you were deciding between running back home and never talking to any of them again or making up a reason you were here and playing it off, a man you didn’t recognize opened the door. He had longer, unkempt curly hair, sad green eyes, and an unpleasant frown on his face as he noticed you standing on the other side of the door.

As you were opening your mouth to ask who the hell he was, he held his hand up, making you shut it. “We don’t want whatever you’re selling." He told you, slamming the door in your face.

You stood there for a while before snapping out of your shocked state. I mean, what the actual hell who does that? It’s so rude!?! You have half a mind to stomp in there and tell him to learn some manners. I mean, the nerve of that guy. You banged on the door more aggressively, ready to give this guy a piece of your mind. Unfortunately for your anger, but maybe good for your sanity, it was Camilla who opened it this time.

"Y/N, what’s wrong? Are you okay?" she asked, seeing your upset state.

“No, who the fuck was that guy?” You asked, trying not to scream, but with your aggravation, it was proving to be difficult. “I mean, he didn’t even let me talk; he just held up that condescending hand and slammed the door in my face. Ugh, what an asshole," you complained as you walked in the house, not letting Cammy get a word in edgewise.

“That asshole is the owner of this house,” the guy snapped from the kitchen doorway. “Who the fuck are you?” he bit back, his glare intensifying as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Instead of letting the man get to you, you turn to Camilla, choosing to talk to her instead of him. "Seriously, Cami, who is this dude?"

"Y/N, this is Billy Dunne, my husband,” she sighed.

Suddenly it all made sense. This was the Billy Dunne two-timing asshole dream-crushing dick and every other bad name. In the book extraordinaire, I mean, you’ve heard story after story, and so far, they’re looking to be true. This guy sucks.

"Oh,” was all you said. I mean, how are you supposed to respond? You were at a loss for words; all you could think was just poor Cami, unfortunately for you, though Billy took your silence as a win.

"Oh, that’s all you got. I should think you’d at least offer me an apology,” he said, smugly smirking at you, which pulled you right out of your speechless state.

“Excuse me,” you said, getting upset. “I owe you an apology. You're the one who slammed the door in my face, but no, your right. I owe you an apology. I’m sorry." You paused with a serious tone, waiting just long enough to make him cocky before finishing “that you’re such an asshole,” and the smirk was immediately gone as Cami hid her laughter behind her hand.

Billy went to reply before you stuck your hand in his face to shut him up as he did to you earlier. "Ah, ah, the adults are talking,” you said, motioning between you and Camilla. "Now, Cam, I love you and I respect your life choices, but this guy is a dick." Billy’s jaw clenched, his fist balling at your words.

Luckily, before your mouth could get you in too much trouble, the front door opened again, revealing Karen, Graham, Eddie, and Warren. They looked at you all, surveying the situation with confused looks. Billy looked pissed while you seemed perfectly fine, and Camilla was trying not to fall on the floor in fits of laughter.

They had caught Mount Billy just as he was erupting, and unfortunately,them being there wasn’t enough to stop it. “Who the fuck are you?!" Billy yelled at you. Billy yelled at you, and Warren snapped, punching Billy straight in the nose and jumping on his friend, who had fallen to the ground, laying on punch after punch.

Warren

"Man, I don’t know what happened, dude. It was just like my body went into autopilot. I don’t even remember jumping him until Eddie pulled me off.”

“Don’t you fucking yell at her, you asshole, I’ll kill you. I swear, Billy Dunne, I’ll fucking kill you!.” Warren continued to scream at him as Eddie pulled him out of the kitchen. Warren struggled against him the whole time.

You all stood in shock at the events that just unfolded. Warren was normally so calm that you had no idea he was even capable of something like that. You came too as Camilla passed you to check on Billy.

He was fine, a little bruised, nothing he didn’t deserve, but he’d be fine. His eye, lips, and cheek were starting to swell already as Camilla and Graham helped him up to his and Cam's room to clean him up.

“He's calming down in the bathroom,” Eddie said as he walked back into the kitchen. “I think you should check on him,” he told you, putting a hand on your shoulder squeezing it gently.

“Yeah,” you whispered, nodding. You tried to shake the nerves out as you walked towards the bathroom.

"Warren,” you knocked on the door softly after a quiet come-in. You interred Warren was sitting on the counter, staring at the wall in a kind of dazed-out state. You knew he was just as confused at what just happened as all of you, so you chose not to ask any question right now that could wait till later.

You walked to the cabinet below the sink. You took out the small first aid kit you knew they kept under there, grabbing the boy's bloody hand and gently cleaning it, trying not to focus on how close you were to him.

“This is going to sting a little,” you whispered, putting on the antiseptic. He winced softly but didn’t pull away.

You finished wrapping his hand and setting it back in his lap before stepping in front of him to get a better look. His eyes widened when they met yours before falling to the floor. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. Your heart hurt at the boy’s dejected tone.

"Hey,” you tried to get his attention, but his gaze stayed glued to the floor. Putting your hand under his chin, you lifted his face, moving it to look at you. "Hey, you have nothing to be sorry for. You lost your temper. It’s okay. It’s not like it happens a lot. I’m sure Billy will forgive you."

“No Y/N That’s not why I’m sorry. I don’t regret doing it. I’m just sorry you had to see that side of me." Warren told you, and you nodded, unable to keep the oh expression off your face as you listened to him. “Billy deserves it and more. I mean, I love the guy, but he’s such an ass and so arrogant. I can’t believe he yelled at you like that, I swear.” You could tell he was getting angry again by the way his fist clenched and his eyes filled with rage, so you stopped his words by bringing a finger to his lips. Those gorgeous, perfectly plumb, oh, so kissable lips. Wow, you were whipped, you thought, catching his puzzled expression, pulling your hand away, clearing your throat, realizing you probably made him uncomfortable.

As you moved to take a step back, Warren's hands found your arms, keeping you in place as you met his gaze again.

You stayed there a while in comfortable silence, staring at one another. With Warren's hands still on you, yours had moved to rest on his thighs.

“You’re so beautiful." Warren whispered breaking the silence you blushed profusely at his words moving to cover your face and brush the comment off but Warrens hands kept you from hiding “I’m serious,” he told you noticing your disbelief “That first day we met me and the guys spent thirty minutes just staring at you from our house before Karen said we should offer to help you I almost said no too” he paused chucking as he recalled that day as you were practically hanging onto ever word he said “ I was so scared because I swear the moment I saw you out that window my heart stopped and going over to talk to you that was even scarier I mean I was just a guy in a dying rock band and you well I didn’t even know you but you were everything even if I didn’t know it yet”

"Warren,” you whispered to caution him because if this wasn’t what you thought it was, you’d be crushed and you couldn’t live with that, so maybe just maybe if you stopped it now, you could still be best friends. You could just pretend none of this ever happened. It was a terrible existence, but one where you kept him was better than one where you lost him.

"Wait, please, just let me finish. I need to say this." Warren understood your whisper to be one of rejection, but he needed to get this off of his chest; it was eating him alive. Your gentle nod told him to continue. He took a deep breath, hoping it would calm his nerves before he spoke again. “You were even prettier up close, and you were so humble trying to refuse our help. I figured you’d never want to talk to us again, but when you did, I was ecstatic. I couldn’t believe that such a pretty girl was even giving me the time of day, but I thought you just saw me as a friend, and I settled for that because as long as you were in my life, it wasn’t really settling." He paused again, unable to muster the courage to finish his confession, before looking into your eyes. Those beautiful Y/C eyes that took his breath away in most other circumstances just gave him courage this time.

“But I can’t do that anymore; it’s killing me, and I know you don’t feel the same anymore, so everything will go back to the way it was right after I get this out, I swear, but I love you so much, I just had to tell you just once,” he finished, tears falling down his cheeks as he did, looking at your shocked face as emotions washed over him. He couldn’t quite place it; it wasn’t regret; he definitely didn’t regret it, perhaps sadness for the friendship he felt he’d ruined maybe even defeat from his pending rejection.

As Warren was stewing in his emotions, you were trying to come up with a way to tell him you loved him to prove to him that you did just as much, but he had just poured his heart out to you. How are you going to follow that? So you stood there in shock, racking your brain for the perfect response.

"Okay,” Warren sighed, letting you go as he got up from the counter. "Look, I know I said things can go back to normal, and they can. I just need a day to feel miserable, and then it’s business as usual,” he chuckled somberly, trying to make light of the situation before exiting the bathroom, leaving you behind so utterly confused it took you a second to process.

Realizing he must have taken your silence as rejection, you quickly left the bathroom to catch up to him, calling for him to explain how he had made it all the way outside. You’d never know.

You finally caught up to him as he was opening the car door. “Warren!” You called again, running up to him and closing the car door for him. Poor thing looked so confused and upset.

"Look, I don’t think it’s too much to ask for a day."

“Shut up and kiss me,” you cut him off, to which his face contorted in more confusion, and he tilted his head like a puppy, making you laugh at his cuteness. You rolled your eyes, pulling him by the collar of his shirt into your lips. He snapped out of his daze, his lips quickly moving against your arms, wrapping around your waist.

“Finally!” Eddie shouted from the porch, where he Camilla, Graham, Karen, and a bruised Billy stood, everyone but Billy and baby Julia in his arms were cheering.

The two of you pulled away, bashful. You hid your face in Warren's chest to cover the blush as you both laughed with your friends. Warren pulled you closer to him, with one arm around your waist resting on the small of your back and the other on the back of your head, playing with your hair.

“Hey guys?” Warren shouted at your friends as they stopped cheering and paid attention to him. “You’re kind of ruining the moment!”

“Or we’re making it more interesting,” Graham yelled back, shooting finger guns at the boy.

“Go away,” you said, lifting your face from Warren's chest.

Cami and Karen respected your wishes, pushing the boys inside as Graham and Eddie awwed, “I still don’t know who she is.” You heard Billy complain as the door shut, and the two of you laughed, turning your attention back to each other.

“So…” Warren started rubbing the back of his neck with the hand that was in your hair.

You smiled coyly, pulling him in for another kiss, which he gladly reciprocated.

This kiss was longer; you got to feel the way his lips felt on yours, how soft they were, and the way his arms wrapped around you to pull you closer, finding their way into his hair, tugging on the ends slightly so you could pull away.

“I love you,” you said in between breaths, your lips still so close together that you could feel the smile that overtook his features.

“I love you,” he said, quickly reconnecting your lips and lifting you off the ground. You wrapped your legs around his waist, smiling into the kiss, breaking away from his lips and leaving kisses across his face as you made your way to his neck as he started to walk the two of you to your house.

As y’all entered the house, he kicked the door closed with his foot pressing you up against it, pulling your head from his neck, and smiling at the small pout you gave him for having your attack on his neck interrupted.

He chuckled, taking the opportunity to kiss your pouted lips, which in turn made you smile.

“I love you,” Warren told you, pulling away from your lips. He made a trail of kisses down to your neck, whispering “I love you” in between each kiss, making you grin like a crazy person.”

He only stopped when he found a spot on your neck that made you whimper as he kissed over it, deciding to suck on the spot and grinning into it when you let out a quiet moan.

"Fuck, you drive me crazy,” Warren panted as he pulled away from your neck, resting his forehead against yours, beautiful brown eyes meeting your own.

“How crazy?” You asked, pecking his lips and capturing the bottom one in between your teeth as you pulled away.

“So crazy, you have no idea,” he replied, tilting his head back and groaning, his eyes shut tightly.

“Oh yeah?” You egged on kissing his neck again as your hands found their way under his shirt.

“Yeah,” he whispered in between gentle moans. The effect you had on the boy was insane; he full-on whined when you pulled away, grabbing his head in your hands to have him look at you.

“You want to show me?” You asked cheekily, making a giant grin take over his face. His eyes clouded slightly, but you could still see every emotion in them. You could feel the love he had for you in that moment.

“With pleasure,” he smirked his lips on you once more, leading you to your bedroom, never breaking away from your lips.

Warren

“One of the best nights of my life.” Warren smirked at the camera, giving you a wink behind the camera.

[kafus]

OKAY HERE'S MY CYNTHIA BATTLE FROM LAST NIGHT!!! i actually recorded it with my cap card and then put some subtitle commentary on it. i managed to do the entire battle in just under 10 minutes so it would fit on tumblr though i did have to make the file crunchy as fuck/low quality LOL. instead of typing out everything here you can just watch the battle happen. here's my team for context (i took these photos after beating her):

i did not record the E4 nor am i gonna talk about it much because it was honestly 10x easier than cynthia and not that interesting. i solo'd flint with my lumineon and i solo'd lucian with my scizor, and bertha/aaron weren't much better.

a few notes about the team though:

i wasn't thinking ahead to specific strategies to beat the E4/cynthia, i just picked movesets i thought were generally good and was like "i'll figure it out when i get there"

as a reminder scizor has technician which boosts the power of moves 60 base power or less, which is why i'm using shit like bug bite lmao

lumineon has ominous wind over attract literally just bc i wanted to use my stockpile of shards on a move tutor move SOMEWHERE on the team and the idea of her getting an omniboost in a fight was objectively funny (though it didn't happen during this run rip)

i picked thunder on clefable over blizzard because of the potential synergy with rain dance (zoom lens doesn't make either 100% accurate but rain makes thunder always hit) however i brought a blizzard TM along in case i needed to change my mind midway. i did not end up having to

return is on luxray just because luxray's movepool sucks and i think it's cute for my pseudo starter to have Return on it

sucker punch's priority ended up being ESSENTIAL to the cynthia fight and i'm very glad i delayed murkrow's evolution until level 45 for it. i actually didn't change pepper's moveset at all before the e4, she's the only one who received no changes

the shiny golem named dandelion is from my qpp gold :] he traded it to me at level 7. i spent nearly 2 hours grinding her to level 50 and used her on the team and did not tell him. i sent him the battle video and the first he was aware of this was when he saw her use explosion LMAO (i plan to use my hippowdon on future runs of the E4!)

BUT YEAH!! YAY WOO

75 hours... very little of that was idling i just really spent that damn long on this game huh.... sdfkdfsksd

i'm pretty much wrapped up here, i intend to use this save as my main platinum save moving forward but i think the liveposts can come to a close now. i may post about me catching the lake trio but that's about it. I HOPE IF YOU'VE BEEN FOLLOWING THE SAGA THAT U ENJOYED IT. THANKS FOR READING MY INCESSANT AUTISTIC RAMBLING THUMBS UP